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第13章红苹果奇缘HungryforYourLove（2）
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Itiscold，sobitterthisdarkwinterdayin1942.Butitisfromanyotherdayinthisioncamp.Iamalmostdead，survivingfromdaytoday，fromhourtohour，eversiakenfrommyhhtherewithtensofthousandsofotherJews.WillIstillbealivetomorrow?WillIbetakentothegaschambertonight?Badforthhebarbedwirefeokeepmyema.Iamhungry，Ihavebeenhungryf.Eachday，asmoreofusdisappear，thehappypastseemslikeameredream，andIsinkdeeperaodespair.Suddenly，Inotiggirlastohersideofthebarbedwire.ShestopsandlooksatmewithsadeyesthatseemtosaythatsheuhatshetooswhyIamhere.Iwanttolookaway，oddlyashamedforthisstraoseemelikethis，butIyeyesfromhers.Theoherpodpullsoutaredapple.Oh，howlonghasitbeensinceIhaveseenone!Shelookscautiouslytotheleftaahsmileoftriumphquicklythroleoverthefeopickitup，holdingitinmytremblingfrozenfingers.Inmyworldofdeaththisappleisanexpressionoflife，oflove.IglaimetoseethegirldisappearingiadayIyself—Iamdrawimetothatspothefendagainshees.Andagainshebringsmeanappleflingihefehatsamesweetsmile.ThistimeIcatdholditupforhertosee.Hereyestwinkle.Forsevenmohis.OnedayIhearfrighteningnews:we’rebeihercamp.
&daywhehermyheartisbreakingandIbarelyspeakasIsaywhatmustbesaid:“Dmeaomorrow.”
Itellher:“IambeioaurningbeforeIloseallmytrolIrunawayfromtheFebeartolookbathspassamareues.Butthememoryofthisgirlsustaihroughtheterror，thepain，thehopelesshehenightmareisover.Thewarhasehoseofuswhoarestillalivearefreed.Ihavelthatreeingmyfamily.ButIstillhavethememoryofthisgirl，amemoryImyheartahewilltogoonasImovetoAmericatostartaneass.Itis1957.IamlivinginNewYorkCity.Afriendetogoonablihaladyofhis.Relutly，Iagree.ButsheishiswomannamedRoma，andlikemesheisanimmigraleastthatinon.“Wherewereythewar?”
Romaasksmegentlyiewayimmigrantsaskoionsaboutthoseyears.“IwasiionGermany.”
Ireply.Romagetsafarawaylookinhereyes，asifsheisrememberihingpai.“Whatisit?”
Iask.“Iamjustthinkingaboutsomethingfrommypast，Herman，”
Romaexplainsinavoilyverysoft，“Yousee，whenIwasayounggirlIlivednearatrationcamp.Wherewasaboythere，aprisonerandfwhileIusedtovisithimeveryday.
IrememberIusedthimapples.Iwouldthroleoverthefendhewouldbeshsheavilyandues，“Itishardtodescribehowwefeltabouteachother—afterallwewereyoungandweonlyexgedafeecould—butItellyoutherewasmuchlovethere.IassumehewaskilledlikesomaIotbeartothinkthat，andsoItrytorememberhimashewasforthosemonthsweweregivehmyheartpoundingsoloudly，Ilookdireaandask，“Anddidthatboysaytoyouoneday‘Dmeaomorrow.Iambeioanothercamp’?”
“Why，yes.”
Romaresporembling.“ButHermahcouldyoupossiblyknowthat?”
Itakeherhandsinmineandanswer，“BecauseIwasthatyoungboy，Roma.”
Formahereisonlysileakeoureyesfromeachother，andastheveilsoftimelift，wereizethesoulbehihedearfriendweonuwehaveoppedloving，whomwehaveoppedremembering.Finally，Ispeak，“Look，Roma，IaratedfromyouondIdoobeseparatedfromyouagain.NowIamfree，andIwaherwithyouforever.Dear，willyoumarryme?”
IseethesametwihatIusedtoseeasRomasays，“Yes，Iwillmarryyou.”
AlmostfortyyearshavepassedsidaywhenIfaiinybroughtustogetherthefirsttimedurioshoromiseofhope，andnowithadreuofulfillthatpromise.Valentine’sDay，1996.IbringRomatotheOprahWiohoionaltelevision.IwanttotellherinfrontofthemillionsofthepeoplewhatIfeelieveryday:“DarlihetrationIwashungry.AndIamstillhungry，forsomethingIwillenoughof:Iamonlyhungryforyourlove.”
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