I Am David: Chapters 1–2

Just by the big tree in the thicket that lies on the road out to the mines, you’ll find a bottle of water and a compass.

Then he saw before him the endless succession of days, months, and years that would pass if he did not.

And it would grow worse and worse, all the time; David clenched his teeth so hard that he felt the muscles of his throat grow taut.

And it would grow worse and worse, all the time; David clenched his teeth so hard that he felt the muscles of his throat grow taut.

His heart, which had been thumping so loudly all through the night, missed a beat, so terror-stricken was he.

David was about to step back, slowly and cautiously, when he caught sight, in the moonlight, of a bucket with a lid and the embers of a burned- down fire.

What had nearly proved a catastrophe ended as a stroke of good fortune.

You must not let your thoughts dwell upon anything more important than whether it would rain or turn out fine, whether you had long to wait for your next meal, or when the guard would be changed.

He strove to keep awake as long as he could, but the even purr of the engine and the swaying and jolting of the truck proved too much.

With infinite care, in almost imperceptibly small jerks, he pushed aside the packing case nearest the cab where the men were sitting, and he had soon made a narrow opening through which, when he put one eye to it, he could see a strip of the little window.

So David jumped out and found himself in the middle of a large town, and being careful to walk in the shadow of the houses—for there was no call to be foolhardy even if Johannes were with him—he had no difficulty in finding the harbor where the ships lay.

He lay awake for a while with his eyes shut, basking in the warmth of his own body while he listened as usual for sounds about him.

He saw the bright colors of the landscape, its variegated greens intermingled with gold and red, fade into one another toward the horizon until everything melted into the blue of sea and sky far away over the mountains.

Finally he sat down with his knife and whittled away at a twig until he had a sharp point of clean wood.

The sun glistened on a drop of water as it fell from his hand to his knee.

His body was lithe and quick, and he found no difficulty in keeping his balance.

But that meant he would have to lie flat all day, and when he was not sleeping, it would be very irksome to lie in roughly the same position all the time.

Not cars nor people walking on the hard surface, for David’s hearing was good, but if anyone were walking on the grass verge, he would not be able to hear him until he was right on top of him.

But there was a narrow ravine between him and the cave, and it was too far for him to jump across.

He was familiar with treachery, and he knew what death looked like.

There was talk everywhere—people walking along with baskets and parcels, people standing in shops where the lights were lit, all were talking.

But he did not tell him that a church could be so beautiful ... its walls built of different kinds of stone that formed intricate and lovely patterns, its great doors approached by a magnificent flight of steps.

The man laughed in a hearty, friendly way, the way everybody laughed here.

He was sure now that she must know better than he how to look after it, but he would rather not be reminded that the child was too young to understand the dangers that beset it.

David waited a long time, a very long time, hiding by the side of the road, before he ventured scrambling down to his hiding place.