Jude

The moment I opened my eyes, I knew I'd fallen asleep and ended up in a living nightmare. We shouldn't have taken the time to 'relax.' There was no time to relax. I found myself in a place that made Salem in the 1660s seem like a walk in the park. It was the worst place I'd ever landed in my entire life. The sickening stench alone evoked images of death.

As I knelt on the cold ground, I looked up to see a boy, no more than nine or ten. His eyes were the biggest and most hollow I'd ever come across. They remained fixed on me, barely blinking, as if he was trying to convey something without words. He was there when I appeared and didn't react to my nudity or my sudden appearance. The area reminded me of a Victorian era ghetto with its old brick buildings and crowded streets, but the young boy's clothing wasn't Victorian. If I had to guess, I'd guess 1930s or 1940s. His tattered clothes hung loosely on his frail frame. He wore a white armband with a blue Star of David.

Star of David armband? I realized this situation was worse than I thought.

A few feet away, a naked man crouched, removing the pants of an emaciated dead man. Percy traveled with me again. When I first traveled, I frequently hid, unsure of how to find clothes or where to go. Percy acclimated to time travel well. Here Percy was, removing the clothes of a dead person. The man was nothing more than a skeleton with a thin layer of skin. Stripping a dead man of his clothes, of his last shred of dignity, bothered me.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"He's dead. He doesn't need his clothes anymore," Percy said. He handed me the man's overcoat, followed by his pants. The sight of small bugs crawling on both garments made me recoil in disgust. I cringed as I slipped my leg through the pants' leg.

"What are these things?" I asked.

"Just put the clothes on." Percy moved on to another corpse. "We're in a Jewish ghetto in Poland."

I wasn't sure how he concluded it was Poland.

"This is bad... really bad," Percy said. "How could you let me fall asleep?"

"How could you let me fall asleep? We should have left when I said so."

"Let's not argue about it," he said, scanning the area. "Fuck."

A group of men walked down the street, their slow and labored movements suggesting exhaustion and fatigue. Some looked as though they'd drop dead any minute. A cluster of women headed in the opposite direction. As my eyes wandered, I gasped, spotting a woman holding a baby, both dead on the ground. Percy gripped my arm, squeezing it, as horrified as I was, but more restrained.

A young girl, no more than seven or eight, stood in front of Percy; her eyes as big and brown as Percy's. After a few seconds, she threw his arms around his legs, hugging him like she knew him, as if he was something very special to her. As tears welled in her eyes, she raised her gaze to meet his and began speaking in a foreign language. Percy glanced at me, shrugging his shoulders. She took his hand in hers and led him down the street.

"She thinks I'm her father," Percy said, barely audibly, as I walked beside him.

"How do you know?"

"She called me Papa. She's German. I studied German in high school and college."

I was so confused. "But I thought we're in Poland."

"We are. The Germans sent German Jews to ghettos in Poland, Latvia, and the Czech Republic. It was Moravia back then. I was a history major in college and took a class on German history. Don't speak. You sound American."

As we entered a tenement building, I noticed a room full of people on the first floor. It was so crowded, I couldn't even see the floor. I trailed behind Percy and the little girl, making our way down a flight of stairs. Just like the first floor, people filled the basement. Some people had beds, others didn't. There were more children down here. The girl guided us to the back of the room where three young girls sat together. An older boy leaned against the wall, dozing.

From inside her coat, the little girl removed a piece of bread. The boy's eyes sprung open, and he jumped to his feet, snatching the piece of bread from her. Speaking in German, his tone sharp and stern. He placed the piece of bread inside his coat, treating it like a piece of gold.

As the little girl spoke, the boy shook his head, directing his attention to Percy. The boy's presence triggered a sense of deja vu, as if I'd encountered a teenage Percy all over again. Percy and the boy locked eyes, their conversation filled with intensity and emotion. Damn, I wished I understood what they said. As tiny bugs crawled all over my body, I scratched my arm, standing there, terrified the Gestapo would barge in any second.

What if they shipped us off to one of those camps? What if we got killed? It was a paradox I didn't quite understand.

I tugged Percy's sleeve to get his attention. "What are you talking about?" I whispered in his ear.

Percy nodded toward the boy, his body tense, his eyes wide with bewilderment. "You won't believe this, but that's Alonzo. I believe he's my grandfather."

"What? You're crazy. That's impossible. You're not even Jewish."

"If I am, I never knew it. He identified himself as Alonzo Richler. These are my great aunts that I never knew I had. The older ones know I'm not their father, but they don't want to break Hannelore's heart. They believe I'm related to them, but they're not sure how."

"Hannelore's the little girl?"

"Yes. I didn't catch the names of the others."

I wondered if Percy had control over his time travel. Maybe I did, too. After all, I made several trips to Cambodia.

"We need to get out of here," I said.

Percy nodded as Hannelore hugged his legs. Another lengthy conversation ensued between Percy and the young Alonzo. After twenty minutes, Percy summarized their conversation. "It's March 1944. They've been here for three months after their mother died of tuberculosis in Germany. She was Aryan, but their father was Jewish. He's a doctor, but they don't know where he is. He thinks their neighbors back home turned them in. Alonzo is sixteen and Herta is fourteen. They work in factories every day. The three others fled the nursery and took refuge here."

"This is fucked up."

"Yep. I'm gonna ask Opa about this when I get home."

"Is Opa your grandfather?"

"Yep. He's ninety-five and still with it."

I was too tired to discuss the pros and cons of this idea.

Percy and I huddled in a corner, too frightened to sleep. Most people here worked at the nearby factory, working themselves to near death before the Germans either shot them or shipped them off in an overcrowded train to a camp to never return.

It was impossible to sleep. I couldn't stop itching and the stench overwhelmed my senses. I'd never been so scared in my life. Sickness, disease, human waste, and death surrounded us.

"I'm fucking scared," I said to Percy as Hannelore lay beside him.

"Yeah, same here."

We didn't sleep a wink.

Come morning, the girls and young Alonzo shared the piece of bread before he and Herta left with the others. Percy and I debated on whether or not to go with them. We decided to stay back and keep a low profile.

If I were in the girls' shoes, I'd never leave the basement. However, I couldn't fathom the horrors they had already experienced. I used to think I had it rough as a kid, never knowing where I'd end up or when I'd get to see my mother again. I always had a roof over my head and decent clothes. I experienced some hunger, but nothing like the people in this ghetto experienced.

Percy's actions often left me confused and unable to fully comprehend his motives. Why did he leave the building with the girls? I just wanted to stay in the corner, fall asleep, and wake up from this nightmare. However, I joined them because I didn't want to be alone. In a weird, twisted way, Percy thought of this as an adventure, a way to experience history. More than anything, he wanted to learn about his secret family.

I expected to see lots of German Gestapo or SS—whatever they were called—and swastikas, but I saw nothing like that. Fellow Jews were the police and in charge. Percy tried to explain it to me, but I only half listened and half understood.

I wasn't invisible, yet I felt invisible, not understanding a word anyone said. My stomach also growled, and I doubted we'd be eating anything soon. Hunger would also make it difficult for us to fall asleep. The girls procured soup, water, and bread from strangers who felt sorry for them.

As a man pulled a wagon with two dead bodies, I clutched Percy's arm, stating the obvious. "I wanna go home."

"Yeah, no shit," Percy said. Eager to return to the basement, Percy encouraged the girls to go back with us.

Over the next few days, I convinced myself that Percy and I had fallen asleep, but for whatever reason, we never made it home. Percy disagreed, claiming we 'only dozed,' so we never fell into a deep sleep, primarily because of hunger and fear. Taking pity on us, the girls shared some of the meager food rations with us.

To make matters worse, I scratched myself so much I bled. Our open wounds on our shoulders also worried me. If we didn't get out of there soon, we risked infection due to the unsanitary conditions. It's not like soap and water were easily accessible. Percy and I leaned against each other, my head pounding with one of the worst headaches I'd ever had. All I could think about was ordering a cheeseburger and fries at 110 Grill. Guilt washed over me, especially since most people in this room wouldn't make it out alive.

"My head hurts," I said.

"We'll be home soon. We'll see Dr. Rodriguez as soon as we wake up. I won't ever say the word relax again."

"You better not," I said with a small laugh.

I rested my head on Percy's shoulder while everyone in the room slept. My eyelids grew heavy. I looked forward to falling into a deep slumber and waking up in a clean hotel room in a queen-sized bed with pillows and a warm comforter.

***

The headache persisted, accompanied by intense body aches as if I was coming down with the flu. Disoriented and dizzy, I stumbled into the bathroom. Overcome with intense nausea and stomach cramps, I projectile vomited all over the bathroom. I was glad it wasn't my bathroom. There was nothing in my stomach except for a slice of moldy bread and water.

In case I threw up again, I carried the trash bin with me as I searched the room for Percy. He always returned twenty or thirty minutes after me, so I wasn't surprised he wasn't there. I decided to take a hot shower, hoping Percy would be back when I finished. As I stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, I noticed weird, red dots all over my body. I never had a rash like this. Stuck to my skin, the little bugs traveled with me. Under hot water in the shower, I scrubbed my hair and body hard, hoping to rid myself from these weird bugs and any disease I may have contracted while in the ghetto.

After a thirty-minute shower, I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist. Convinced Percy had returned, I walked out of the bathroom, expecting to see Percy, but he wasn't there. He hadn't returned.

It was too soon to panic. He'll be back soon. Sitting on the bed, I picked up my phone, checking the time. It was two in the afternoon. I noticed several missed calls on Percy's phone. As I scrolled through the numbers, I realized they weren't from Percy's parents or sisters. They were from Dr. Rodriguez.

Words: 2050

Total Words: 33,414