Heavy boots broke the night’s silence, and Reuben knew it was time for him to fly with Isaak to safety. In darkness they ran for the Rabbi’s basement and a secret hatch that led to the river. Reuben knew: he’d designed this very ghetto. Soon black ice water held and lifted them aloft.
But the boy, unable to swim, thrashed hard.
“Let me hold you,” Reuben said.
Isaak, disregarding his father’s instructions, floundered.
“Don’t let go,” his father pleaded. Freedom was close enough to taste.
Isaak, ignoring his father, plummeted downwards into the depths, bearing with him his father’s last dream.