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Of nominally Orthodox upbringing, I had no real idea of what the after-life might bring, certain only that it must be better than the existence I had just departed.
As if to confirm this supposition I felt a pleasing sensation on my lips, for a minute unfamiliar, then recognized to be cool, clean water. I felt the fluid seep between the teeth and onto my tumescent tongue and knew that I must be in heaven, for only there, surely, could one conceivably experience such sybaritic pleasure.
I savoured the moment. Words cannot describe how beautiful the taste of such commonplace a commodity as water after so many days of enforced abstinence.
Then I remembered Nicolae and all thought of heaven vanished, reality imposing its presence in an instant. I felt more of the precious liquid being applied to my chapped lips and instinctively pushed myself away, for my bodily needs were as nothing compared to my concern for my sibling.
I felt a gentle hand at my head restrain me and a voice spoke, the tone soft and reassuring, the language unfamiliar. I lay still while my mind sifted myriad unfocused images that fought for my attention. I tried to call out Nicolae’s name but pain seared through my body at the attempt and I fell back, exhausted even by this feeble effort.
Again I tried to speak, but a finger gentle against my lips prohibited my ambition, the stranger’s words surely urging me to be still and silent.
I felt water again applied to my lips and this time I tried to move my swollen tongue to savour it, hoping to draw strength from its refreshing powers.
If my vision was slowly beginning to focus, still nothing seemed clear. I could see daylight around me and from above could ascertain the amorphous image of a tree swaying gently in the breeze. But of my benefactor, indeed of anyone, I could see nothing.
I inhaled deeply, partaking of the cool, clean air, savouring the contrast as I remembered the feculence of the past days.
Gently cupped hands tilted before my face and I felt more of the cool fluid run over my lips and cheeks, and down my neck. As the water trickled slowly down my parched and arid throat, I felt my whole body strengthen in response.
A hand at my head lowered me until I was resting on what I smelt to be grass, though I could not move my neck enough to see it. Above me I saw a blurred figure move away. I tried to call out but the task was beyond me and I reluctantly accepted my fate, laying still, for every attempt to move wracked my body with pain. Desperate as I was to know the fate of my brother all I could do was pray that Nicolae too had been rescued with me. My eyelids were heavy and, overcome with fatigue, I lapsed once more.
When next I opened my eyes it was dusk, but pain still wracked my body and I fell back into slumber seconds later, vaguely conscious as I did so of a fire burning a short way distant. The flames seem to carry into my sleep for fire dominated my dreams over the next few hours until, at length, I awoke again, this time finding the pain more tolerable, and slowly I opened my eyes to the night.
The only illumination was now provided by the fire, its heavenly flames dancing gently to the unheard rhythm of the evening’s breeze, but still my muscles would not respond enough to permit me to turn.
Perhaps attracted by my efforts, an unfocused figure again appeared above me, leaning over my prostrate form. The blur came closer until it was just above me, hovering like an angel, though I had by now dismissed such flights of fancy from my mind.
The face came slowly into focus, first the eyes, then the other features, the contours flickering gently in the fire’s lambent illumination. Small fingers reached out and touched my face, and as they did so I felt my eyes moisten. Defying the pain a smile spread across cracked lips and my hand raised to take the fingers that lay on my cheek.
I felt Nicolae’s hand in mine and the tears became torrents as pent emotions were released in unquestioning gratitude.
I raised my other arm, clutching my little brother tight, drawing his body against mine. Tears of pain mingled with the tears of joy that flooded my cheeks, but I held him closer still, determined never to let him go. I wanted desperately to caress the sores on his lips, to offer comfort and tender his hollow cheeks, but I could not bring myself to let go the tight grip I held him in, for fear he might disappear, that his very presence might prove to be an illusion.
“Anca, why are you crying?”
Nicolae’s words were mellifluent, his question innocence incarnate, and for some minutes I could do nothing but attempt to smile through my tears. I tried to plant a kiss upon his cheek, but painful lips made me recoil. As my tears began to subside I tried again to speak, but words were not yet possible and I lay back again, now secure in the knowledge my little brother, at least, was safe.
Of Mama... Of Chaim and Golda, and of the sweet child Elone... Of the countless innocents that had been on the train with us... Of these I could not know, taking small comfort from the thought that we surely could not be the sole survivors.
An unknown figure approached and gently eased Nicolae to his feet, evidently suggesting I should be left to recuperate. Knowing Nicolae to be in safe hands I acquiesced without further objection, determined to rest now, that I might find the strength to rise when next I woke.