The Deliverer of Dolls (The Lights Of Innocence - Book 1): The Lights Of Innocence - Book 1

By Denis Lenzi

“It is time for you to believe me, whether you like it or not. And, when everything happens, don’t be afraid. What you will see is real and not a figment of your imagination. They want you to take them to the children. You will know where to find them. The dolls will show you. Trust them. They are your friends. I created them with a lot of love, much more than you can imagine. If the dolls ask for your help, don’t refuse. Share it with them.”

After his grandmother’s strange request shortly before dying, David Forlin, now alone in the world, is faced with an important mission. Whatever it takes, he would keep the promise made to his grandmother; deliver the last three dolls made by her to the chosen children, who live in different States in North America.

During David’s journey, he meets each chosen child and his brief interaction with it is able to change his life. And he also finds himself in unimaginable dangers that suddenly appear during his journey. But David will not give up easily until the last doll is delivered to the chosen child.

In these difficult days, it is a balm to open this book by Denis Lenzi, in our brief moments of leisure and rest, and be convinced our dreams become reality as we believe them. To discover the magical dolls the world hides, we only have to open our heart and dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Aug 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781507128428

Book preview

BOOK ONE

THE DELIVERER OF DOLLS

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Author:

Denis Lenzi

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Translation:

Marina Hennies

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, descriptions of towns, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

In my house, I was collecting small and large toys, without which I could not live. A child who does not play is not a child. But the man who does not play has lost forever the child who lived in him and that will be deeply missed.

Pablo Neruda

PROLOGUE

A little while before World War II broke out, in a small town in Poland, whose name I cannot remember now, Nazi soldiers invaded the streets and started to break down the doors of the houses of Jewish families, surprising them with such brutality.  There was nothing the victims could do. Jewish mothers cried in despair, worried about the fate of their children who, frightened, clung to their waists, asking to be taken to a safe and peaceful place. No child would be able to understand the absurdity of so much violence. There was general chaos, a horrendous and cruel scenery. Those inhabitants – mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, people of all ages – were unjustly driven from their own homes. Many died because they bravely confronted the Nazi soldiers.

In the midst of this deplorable scenery, at the end of the street, not far away, there was a small toyshop next to other commercial establishments. It was a two-story building. In the shop window a variety of toys was displayed, including dozens of dolls like mine, which stood out because of their hand-made originality. They were made by hand by an old man who had the incredible ability of bewitching them and giving them life.  The dolls were fascinating and had very special features that only the children were able to discover.  Grown-ups noticed nothing. The shop owner used to give these dolls to special boys and girls. He was not only the shop owner, he was also a skilled maker of dolls. A very kind man with an enormous heart. His name was Yair Gelberg, which meant, He will shine on the golden mountain.

When this Nazi invasion took place, he was in a small room, at the window, from where he could see the smoke from the fire a few feet away. The good man felt broken-hearted. He had light green eyes and upon watching that scene, one of them became moist, while the other was inert under the black eyepatch that hid it. That was because, when he was a child, he was struck by a stone thrown at him by a prejudiced neighbor and lost that eye. A widower for twenty years and having lost two sons in the First World War, this man still believed in life, in spite of all his suffering. He had a strong build and excellent health. Despite being 68 years old, he thought that he still had a long time to live and always gave thanks to the omnipresent and omnipotent Creator for the life He had given him.

Standing at the window, he looked serious and worried. He knew that he could not stay there much longer. It would not be long before the Nazi soldiers knocked on the door of his toyshop to capture him. They would confiscate all his belongings and put him on a truck to be taken to the concentration camp. It was more than a premonition, it was practically certain. He blindly trusted his only Creator, nothing else. When he heard the dogs barking nearby, he fetched two backpacks. In one of them he put his belongings and some warm clothes to face the winter days and nights. The other one was still empty. He went downstairs, went to the entrance of the shop and started to look around. His eyes filled with tears. His shop, his home, his toys, everything would have to be left behind, he already missed them. But there was no time to waste. He quickly took the seven dolls from the shop window and put them into the empty backpack.  He hurried when he saw, through the window, two young soldiers and an officer in a black uniform, together with two enormous black dogs, coming toward the shop. 

It is time to leave, my friends. We have to find the children. The journey will be long he whispered and left through the back door, where the materials to make toys were kept.

The hardest part would be to climb over the fence that had been built there. He took some wooden boxes, stacked them and climbed to the top. First he threw the backpacks over the fence; then, with a great effort, he jumped and fell to the other side. At that moment, two of the soldiers opened the door. The dogs were barking nonstop, jumping and scratching the fences with their claws. One of the soldiers swore furiously, the other one immediately ran to tell his partner who was watching the shop, together with his dog, to wait for the owner’s orders.

He escaped through the backyard! Go after him! cried the soldier.

The young Nazi officer, with a cold, calculating look, heard quick steps coming from the other side of the street. He looked that way and saw an old man, carrying two backpacks turning into another street. The officer bent down and held the dog’s jaws, forcing it to look in the direction the Jew was escaping. He pointed persistently at the old man walking along the pavement, pretending not to be Jewish and mixing with the crowd. Hel looked at the dog, with a cynical, threatening smile.

Can you see that one over there? Go and catch him!, he said in a low voice, but firmly and slowly. –  Go on, go!

The dog stood up with pricked ears and ran after the fugitive, barking furiously. The Nazi officer, with his hands under his cape, walked slowly, certain that there was no chance the victim could escape from the killer dog. He whistled merrily, indifferent to the atrocities committed and to the destruction of Jewish homes.

Breathless, Yair Gelberg walked as fast as he could. He was afraid he would be identified by an acquaintance who, without meaning to, would call the attention of the Nazis. He felt safer in the middle of the crowd, the passersby would not suspect a well-dressed man carrying two backpacks. Yes, he felt safer. But not for long. Suddenly he heard the dog barking behind him. He turned around and saw the animal chasing him, baring its sharp teeth. And behind the dog, farther away, a soldier following it. He became aware, at that moment, that he was cornered. No way out.

Hi! Aren’t you the owner of the toyshop? Hi, guys! He’s a Jew! shouted a garrulous voice pointing aggressively at the old man. It was a Polish youth, about 15 years old. Not seeming to care about what was happening around him, he felt powerful, flaunting the ribbon with the swastika symbol tied around his arm. He was a Nazi supporter and would do anything to be one of them, his dream was to become a ruthless Nazi officer.

Now things had become complicated. Behind the old man, the Nazi officer and the dog. Ahead of him, the awkward teenager who marched coldly towards him, ready to attack.  Yair looked sideways and noticed that a group of people was gathering and also coming in his direction. It seemed to be the end of the line. He was unarmed and defenseless. In fact, he was not worried, nor did he fear for his life. The barking was coming nearer and nearer. Turning around, he was surprised by the dog, who jumped on him. The old Jew raised one of his hands and touched the animal’s snout in spite of seeing its sharp claws. As soon as he touched it, effortlessly, the dog became meek and receptive, surprising all the onlookers. Something fantastic had happened under the eyes of  dozens of people.

Everyone was paralyzed upon seeing the Nazi officer’s dog jump and gently lick the old man’s face. They were afraid to approach and touch that creature, after such an inexplicable show of power. There was something very strange about that man. It could only be someone gifted with some unknown and mysterious power sent by a Higher Self., they thought. They were unaware, however, that the phenomenon they witnessed wasn’t exactly a manifestation of supernatural powers, at least not those capable of performing impossible and unexpected things, but a different and very special one, unknown to those people; it was the power of infinite love that emanated from that man.

The old Jew stroked the dog’s head, smiling at the astonished faces. And he laughed when he heard some anonymous persons refer to him as a kind of wizard. Some said that he used a language of his own to communicate with the dogs. Others, more dramatic, whispered among themselves that the old man was the incarnation of the devil.

The Nazi officer appeared amidst the frightened crowd and saw, to his surprise, his dog, totally tamed and affable. Its tail was wagging in the air while it licked the old Jew’s hand. He looked at the persons around him, not understanding why they were standing there motionless, showing admiration and fear of the old man. He cast a look of the utmost hatred at the Jew, while indescribable fury beat in his chest.

What have you done to my dog? he asked in a loud, aggressive voice. Then he paused and cast a cold, threatening look at his presumed prisoner. At least, so he thought.

Nothing. I only showed my love for it. I love animals and would never harm one. I think your friend understood that he said, with an air of satisfaction, but with deep sadness in his eyes, sadness to know that those people around him had coldness and perversity in their hearts for unfairly judging Jews like himself.

Don’t play the fool with me! said the officer unbelievingly. He approached to examine him carefully, thinking that he might be hiding some secret or trick. What is in the backpacks?

They are my things. I have to take my dolls to some children. I can’t leave them empty-handed.

Ho! Ho! Ho! Is that so? he asked sarcastically. He approached, almost touching his face. Are you, by any chance, Father Christmas?

If that is what you think, so be it. Believe what you like.

The soldier stared at the Jew and roared with laughter exhaling his bad breath.

Stupid old man! he shouted. Do you take me for a fool? There is no Father Christmas. You ran away. You tamed my dog and even tried to bribe me to escape.

Let me go, my friend. Please!

Who said I am your friend? The soldier took a step back, drew his pistol and pointed it at him.

Yair closed his eyes. Just then, the unexpected happened. The black dog turned aggressive again and pitilessly attacked the prey. However, the prey it attacked was not the Jew, but its owner. It bit his wrist hard making him drop the pistol. The onlookers, even more perplexed with the scene, backed away to be safe. They no longer cared about the old Jew. The officer fell down with his wounded wrist, which was bleeding profusely. He felt defeated, humiliated. He looked angrily at the old Jew, who was now far away.

I’ll catch you! he yelled, getting up with an effort. And I shall kill you, damned Jew! I’ll chase you to the end, I shall not rest until I see you dead! After his explosion of hate, he looked at the dog and noticed that it was growling, dissatisfied. The officer stood still, enraged, until the dog ran away, disappearing from view.

Five years went by and Yair crossed all the towns, forests and mountains in the region. He faced snowstorms, rain, heat, hunger and solitude. However, as great as the challenges might be, he always triumphed in the end.  He was lucky enough to meet kind people who took him in and would not let him go hungry, cold or thirsty.  Yair stayed with them for a short while, as he knew that the young Nazi would not give up the chase. So, when he was informed of his presence in the town where he was, he fled to another place, disguised or helped by friendly people. And, so it went. During each season spent among those generous inhabitants who offered him a safe place, where he could stay temporarily, the old man used his time to create more dolls. And each time he met a sad child on the way, he would smile gently and offer it a doll.

From the time Yair abandoned his shop and spent five years going from town to town, he distributed 320 dolls among the needy or special children he met on his way.

When World War II broke out, many soldiers lost their lives or were seriously wounded. Distressed mothers prayed and implored for the return of their sons. The reply to many of them, unfortunately, arrived by means of painful letters announcing the death of these young fighters. Several regions, of many different towns, were bombed, a fact that resulted in many victims and destruction. There was no peace at that time. It was the most violent time that History ever witnessed. The events that marked the lives of those people were duly recorded in Literature and transmitted, from generation to generation, the memory of war. Yair was heartbroken each time there was news of the death of those young soldiers. He prayed for their suffering souls.

One day, the obsessed Nazi officer, in his tireless search, arrived in another town questioning its inhabitants about the old Jew who made dolls. Some inhabitants really didn’t know him. Others, fearing to be shot or tortured, confessed that he was in town, but did not know where his hiding place was. The young man ordered his soldiers to invade all homes, until he was found. When, during this search, they found a hidden Jew, they took him to the lorry going to the concentration camp. But there was no sign of the old Jew and the Nazi officer became even more obsessed.

I know you are here and I shall catch you, one way or another he murmured repeatedly, with hatred.

Once again, Yair had the help of generous people who did not hand him over while the Nazi soldiers captured the Jews. He thanked all those who offered him help and again escaped into the