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Adam remembered the apple tree, and they ran to it. The apples had turned red, and some of them had fallen to the earth. They picked apples and gathered them in the canvas. Miro didn’t leave their side. From time to time he raised his head, turned it, and pointed his nose.

Between rainstorms they went down to Mina’s tree. This time they found a few pieces of bread and a piece of butter wrapped in a rag.

The last time they saw Mina, her right hand had been bandaged in a kerchief. She milked the cow quickly, so it didn’t seem like a serious injury to them. But Adam kept repeating, “The peasant is not only angry at her. He beats her.”

“How do you know?”

“From the expression on her lips. The next time we meet her we should ask her to join us,” said Adam.

“Let’s hope she won’t be afraid to run away,” said Thomas.

“Mina’s a brave girl. Look at her hands as she milks.”

The next day they found Mina milking. Adam directed his voice at her and called out, “If things are hard for you, and if the peasant is hurting you, come to us. We have a nest in a tall tree, and, if necessary, we can flee into the heart of the forest. We don’t have a lot to eat, but whatever comes our way is enough to live on. If you want to join us, we’d be very happy.”

Mina heard, but her face didn’t move. When she finished milking, she took the pail and the stool and hurried away.

When Mina went away, she left behind a trail of secrecy. She was so short and so small, it was a wonder she could carry the heavy pail. “She’s a spirit, not a body,” said Adam.

“Where did you get that feeling, Adam?” asked Thomas.

“The pail is as big as half her body. Who’s carrying the pail, if not the spirit that’s in her?”

“For years in school we never realized she was a being with spiritual strength.”

“Our eyes deceive us,” said Adam, and they both laughed.

Chapter 25

After that dark days came. Cold filled the forest, and rain mixed with hail pounded the canvas.

Every time thunder and lightning exploded above them, Miro pricked up his ears.

“Is the war drawing to a close?” Adam asked Miro and looked at his face.

Miro couldn’t stay still. Every few minutes he stuck his head out of the canvas and let out little barks.

Snow was not long in coming. First it was mixed with rain, but from day to day it thickened and grew whiter. Mina continued to leave packages next to her tree. Once it was a packet of dry fruit. The good peasant left them a jug of buttermilk.

“What would we have done without our angels?” said Adam.

It snowed harder, and the cold grew fiercer. Adam and Thomas wore the shirts, the sweaters, and the coats that they had, but the cold wind penetrated their clothing.

Adam kept asking Miro if he sensed that the Red Army was advancing. Miro raised his head, pricked up his ears, and muttered dissatisfied little barks. He was complaining about the weather, which made it hard for him to sense things.

Their new enemy was now the cold and the wind. They had to reinforce the nest, add branches, and carefully build thick walls around the nest with twigs. One day from above they saw Mina come out of the darkness of the forest, place a package on the snow, and go away. Her movements were light, gliding, and hardly touched the snow. Fresh snow filled her footprints right away.

“Think of how much courage she needs to wrap corn pie and cheese in paper and sneak out of the house,” said Thomas.

“She’s a girl from out of this world,” said Adam, and he was alarmed by the words he had said.

They climbed down to see what Mina had left them. This time the package held a piece of cake, a slice of bread, and two sugar cubes.

“I have the feeling that Mina baked this cake.”

“How come?” asked Thomas.

“My heart tells me.”

“The cold is getting worse. Maybe we should go to Diana’s,” said Thomas.

Adam looked at Thomas and said, “It’s not right to leave the forest in this difficult time. The forest has protected us all the time, and I have a feeling that we can hold out without Diana.”

“The cold is penetrating to my fingers and biting them.”

“The cold is getting to me, too. We have to rub our fingers,” said Adam, and he added, “We’ve been in the forest for many months. We overcame fear and want. Now we have two angels who watch over us, and for our part we’ll do everything to overcome the cold.”

“Adam, you constantly amaze me.”

The snow didn’t stop falling. Thick flakes streamed thickly down from the sky. From time to time thunderbolts ripped the heavens. Miro was tense. Adam stopped him from jumping out, getting into danger. He spoke to him softly, saying, “Miro, it’s horrible outside. It’s best for you to be up here in the nest, to curl up under the blankets. When we’re together, the warmth stays, do you understand?”

Thomas wrote in his notebook:

Dear Mom and Dad,

The snow doesn’t stop falling. It’s piled high. If I’m not mistaken, half a meter. But don’t worry. We’ve improved our nest. We put on all the clothes we have. I think about you all the time, but since I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, my thoughts wander somewhere else every time. Fortune favored us, and our friend Mina and the peasant we met by chance bring food to us. My friend Adam calls them angels. The booming in the distance can be heard very well. Let’s hope it brings the Red Army on its wings. Conditions are hard, but we haven’t lost hope. Last night I dreamed you were liberated and had come to pick up me and Adam. You were very thin, but your faces expressed satisfaction. I hope so much it will be that way. Don’t delay. Come. I love you very much, Thomas.

Thomas read what he had written to Adam. Adam listened and said, “You described the situation correctly. I don’t know how to write the way you do.”

“But you’re better at making your way in nature than I am.”

“Sometimes I have the feeling that my parents receive my thoughts,” said Adam.

“It also seems that way to me, but I’m not sure,” said Thomas.

“You have to be strong and trust yourself, Thomas. When we met you didn’t know how to climb trees, you didn’t know how to walk right in the forest, and now you’re as agile and quick as a squirrel.”

“I still haven’t gotten to your level,” said Thomas.

“There’s no need to compete. Everyone has to be faithful to himself.”

One cold night Thomas suddenly asked Adam, “What do you want to study, Adam?”

“I want to learn from my father.”

“You want to be an expert carpenter?”

“Yes. And what do you want to study?” Adam asked.

“I’ll go on to high school and college.”

“Let’s pray that the winds and snow will leave us alone, and that our parents will come and get us soon.”

Upon hearing Adam’s words, Thomas burst into tears.