Run, Boy, Run(39)

15. Mines


Jurek resumed his wandering life. Sometimes he found work with a farmer for a week or two. Sometimes he stole into a hayloft and spent the night there. In hot weather he looked for streams or lakes to bathe in.

He missed the forest, with its berries and mushrooms. Sometimes he found blueberries and wild strawberries in the woods he passed, but the local women and children had usually beaten him to them. There were vegetables in the fields and in the gardens by the houses. Now and then he was caught, most often while trying to steal chickens. At such times, having only one arm protected him. He was a poor orphan who had to cross himself left-handed, and the farmers didn't beat him.

When he met workers in the fields, he greeted them in the name of Jesus. If he received a friendly greeting in return, he pitched in to help. During breaks he was given food and asked questions. The farmers shook their heads at his sad fate. He didn't like being felt sorry for. They had seen that he could work as well as anyone. He could earn his keep with just one arm.

"Where are you from, son?"

"I don't remember."

Sometimes these encounters ended with a job. One farmer, who ran into him one morning as he was walking sleepily out of a hayloft, offered him a job as a shepherd.

One evening it rained cats and dogs. Jurek was soaked to the bone. The farmer felt bad for him and brought him into the house, where he gave him supper and made a bed for him by the stove. Jurek lay down and was covered with a sheepskin. In the morning the farmer's wife came to wake him. She lifted the sheepskin and let out a scream. "Heniek!" she cried to her husband. "Look! The boy's lice are all over the sheepskin."

The farmer came in, looked at the sheepskin, gave Jurek a slap, and threw him out of the house. He hung the sheepskin on a fence, brought Jurek a comb, and told him to comb out the lice. Jurek put down the comb and took to the road, leaving his lice behind.

Another farmer sent him to the river with his horse. "Take Kasztan and wash him," he said. "Can you do it with one hand?"

"Of course," Jurek said.

When he returned he asked, "Why is the Wisla so little here?"

The farmer laughed and explained that the river wasn't the Wisla. It was another river, the Liwiec, which flowed into the Bug.

Jurek pastured the man's cows for several days. He liked the farm and its family liked him, and he looked forward to remaining. Unexpectedly, however, some cousins soon arrived with two teenage boys and Jurek wasn't needed anymore. The cousins had come from the east, where the Russians were advancing. By now Jurek knew that the thunder and lightning that he had heard and seen at night were the sounds and flashes of the Russians' big guns.

***





For the second straight day, he was following a broad road. It was strange that, although he could tell it had once been a paved highway, no one was traveling on it. For a while it followed the banks of a river. Jurek decided to bathe in it. He took off his clothes and waded into the water. Nearby was a bridge. He heard the motor of an approaching car and hid. A German truck with several soldiers pulled up on the bridge and stopped. Jurek was frightened. Were they going to swim in the river? He took his clothes and crouched in the reeds. No one entered the water. He peeked out. The men were still on the bridge. He crawled forward for a better look. They were unloading equipment from the truck and doing something on and underneath the bridge.

He wanted to get away. Yet even though he had never heard the word "mines," something told him that the soldiers were planting them. He took some carrots from his knapsack and chewed on them while the Germans worked quickly. Now and then, one took out binoculars and scanned the horizon. They looked worried and left in a hurry.

Jurek made up his mind to remain and warn anyone using the bridge. He found a comfortable place by the riverbank and dozed off. No one came. The sun was setting. He had to look for something to eat. Stepping out of the reeds, he saw a slowly moving wagon.

He flagged down the driver. The man reined in his horses.

"Looking for a ride, boy?"

"Some Germans were here and did something to the bridge. They worked on it a long time."

"Mines!" the man exclaimed. "Son, you may have saved my life. Come, I'll take you home. Are you from that village?" He pointed to his rear.

"Yes," Jurek said. He was about to climb onto the wagon when the farmer stopped him and said:

"Listen, son. The Russians are coming. We heard their artillery all night. They have to be warned that the Germans have mined the bridge. Stay here and keep anyone from crossing. Don't cross yourself. Just yell 'Mines!' if anyone comes near. I'll round up some men in the village and return. And then I'll take you home."