Forever Torn

C7: A Light Went Out (2/4)

That summer Abraham embarked on his journey to South Africa, arriving at Cape Town and travelling on to Johannesburg where a job opportunity awaited him. In years to come he would make a success of himself as a Blecher (a worker in tin and other metals) and go into partnership with a Mr Snaier and together they ran a successful sheet metal factory for years.

The long months until Ete and the children could join him were hard for Abraham but two things sustained him – the fact that he was working towards a better future for his family and that his good friend Yankel Lurie had promised to escort Ete and the children over the following year.

One day late in 1926, Dovid was sitting at the table in the kitchen reading a newspaper when a noise distracted him. Slightly irritated he looked up and saw his eldest son standing by the door, kicking idly at the frame. Orcik had his hands shoved deep within the pockets of his long grey short trousers and he looked bored and miserable.

Dovid stood and walked over until he stood, towering over his son. 'Orca,' he said quietly and the boy looked up.

'Yes Papa?'

'You miss Lily don't you my son?' (Lily was away spending a few weeks in Vilnius with her mother visiting some of the Aberman relatives and also to shop for clothes for their voyage to South Africa – another reason for Orcik's unhappiness.)

Orcik nodded and opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he abruptly closed it, prompting his father to ask what was on his mind.

The little boy hesitated a moment and then he stared up. 'Mama is never going to get better, is she?'

Dovid dropped into a crouching position and put a large hand on Orcik's shoulder. 'Come outside,' he said and straightening, he led the boy into the enclosed yard.

'You see that over there Orca?' he pointed to the woodpile.

'The wood?'

'Pull off the tarpaulin son; there's something I've been working on at the back; maybe you'd like to help your old Papa finish it off.'

When the woodpile was uncovered, Dovid motioned to the rear and Orcik excitedly climbed over to see what his father meant. It was a sled – unfinished but its shape was unmistakable. Dovid had started with a large block of wood which he had hollowed and shaped.

'Papa, I ...Is it really for me?'

Dovid reached out and patted his son's shaven head, feeling the bristles roughly against his palm. 'For you and your brother. If we work at it every day, it will be ready when the snows come and then I'll take you and Solly up to the hills and we'll see how it works, eh?'

Orcik beamed happily at his father for an instant and then he was bounding off to find the tools. Half smiling, Dovid followed at a slower pace.

Every day thereafter, father and son would go in to the yard and work on the sled, plaining the wood, smoothing and polishing the surfaces and creating what was to Orcik's eyes a thing of beauty.

Occasionally if the weather wasn't too bad, little Solly would be brought outside and Dovid would allow him to help, giving him a soaking rag and directing the toddler to polish the sides.

Several times a week the boys would have long visits with their mother in her bedroom when she was well enough and Orcik would babble on enthusiastically about the progress of the sled. As yet Solly only had a few words but generally he was a very quiet child, content to snuggle up against Mama and rest his face on her hair with a contented smile.

Mama would ask how Orcik was enjoying school and he would tell her it was alright and he had made some friends but it wasn't the same since Lily started a new school.