by Rebekah Pace
“When battles went badly for the Germans, they are raising the quotas to kill us more quickly. And when the Allied bombers came, the Germans are hiding inside our camp, knowing the Allies would not purposely drop bombs on us. For this I am knowing German soldiers were not brave. They were bullies, monsters, and cowards.”
My throat was dry, so I turned off the recorder. My hand trembled as I filled a glass with water. I had not been brave or defiant. I had merely survived. Maybe I had always been ashamed of that, but now a small flame ignited deep inside me. There was power in the telling.
“Many of the strongest men who arrived at Auschwitz with me, the ones I am thinking the SS would prize for slave labor, were sent to the gas chamber straightaway. The Nazis wanted to keep their prisoners weak. The strong would be a threat in the event of rebellion or revolt.
“We were marched, sometimes miles each day, to and from our work assignments. Work went on even in bad weather, and often we had to sleep in wet things for we had no change of clothes. To find lice and fleas on ourselves would have been humiliating in our former lives, but in the camps, it was a matter of course.”
As I went on, I tried to hold my emotions in check. I clenched my fists to stop my hands from shaking, but I could not hide the tremor in my voice as the memories of the things I had seen spilled forth.
“The guards pushed little children into the latrine pits and let them drown in the filth. Those who had been in the camp longer than I had no body fat to protect themselves from cold or from sunburn. Every sickness and contagious disease became an epidemic, because there was no medicine.
“It would have been bad enough if the gassings had been quick, and random, but the Nazis are making lists and schedules for extermination. Once someone was on the list, they are no longer being given food or water. And they waited, sometimes for days, for the end to come.”
I forgot to turn off the recorder and the howl of agony that escaped my throat became part of my testimony.
“Once your name was on the list of condemned, someone could intercede on your behalf, but offering bribes could backfire. Also, there was guilt, knowing if you were spared, someone else is taking your place. The SS was not caring who they killed—only that they were fulfilling their quotas.”
Punching the off button, I got up and paced. As hard as it was to recount the horrors I’d seen, I didn’t know if I could talk about what had happened to the women without breaking down.
But I recalled the leering faces of the Hitler Youth boys who played master to the stock cars full of women and girls, and I had to speak. I must tell that even young people were part of the evils. I turned the recorder back on.
“Sometimes guards who were barely into their teens forced the newly arrived female prisoners to run naked along the camp road to the gas chambers. The women were frightened and humiliated by the way the young guards laughed and prodded them with their rifle butts. I couldn’t help but think those boys were so brainwashed they’d do the same to their own mothers and sisters if they’d been ordered to.”
When I finish speaking, I turned off the recorder and pushed it away. Now it carried the memories that had festered inside me for so many years. I felt exhausted, but lighter—and cleansed.
***
Jacob was there when I went to the library to return the recorder.
I handed it to him. “Here are some things I am remembering. I am hoping it is good enough.”
He received the machine with reverence. “Thank you, Peter. Every story is important. I know it must have been difficult.”
“It was, but everything is being alright now.”
“Good. I’ll transcribe this. Can you come back to go over a written transcript in about a week?”
“I think maybe I am not available next week. I am traveling to Shanghai.”
Jacob laughed. He thought I was kidding. “Oh, really? You’re serious? Well then I’ll get to work on it right away.”
28
With four days to go, I packed my new suitcase, then took everything out and packed it again. Mira still called to me from the darkness in my dreams, and I was antsy to get going.
To keep myself from climbing the walls, I cleaned out my apartment, taking everything out of the closets and cabinets and sorting it into piles. Most of it could be thrown out, but there were a few things worth saving. I made a pile of stuff for Benny and wrote a note, giving him my kitchen table.
Benny and I hadn’t spoken since the day of the robbery, and I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Once I found Mira in Shanghai, I was certain I wouldn’t want to come back home. It took me hours to write everything down, but I wanted Benny to know the whole story—even the part about how I’d reunited with Mira in my dreams.
I packed the library books in the canvas bag and headed out to return them. Kara was working at the front desk, and she greeted me with a smile. “Hello, Mr. Ibbetz. Jacob and I were just talking about you.” She picked up the phone to page him, then turned back to me. “Your books aren’t due yet. Are you finished already?”
“Yes. From them I am learning a great many things.” I pushed the bag across the counter as Jacob came out of the volunteer office. “Are you finding anything about Mira?”
“No. Nothing yet.”
“Okay. I have been thinking about it, and I will also do interview on video if you would like.”
“Yes, that would be great.”
“Can we do it now? I do not have much time left here.”
“Of course. Come on back.”
He set up the video camera in the office, and when he patched my image through to a monitor, I couldn’t believe how old I looked and sounded. But once I made the recording, I didn’t plan to watch it again.
***
With three days to go, Lucille and I made a test run to the airport. She gave me a tour of the arrivals area first, so I could see how the baggage carousel worked. She was great at explaining what to expect, and she laughed at how much I enjoyed watching the suitcases sliding down the chute onto the carousel.
“It is being like assembly line—so fast.”
She chuckled. “You might not think the bags come up fast once you’ve got a few trips under your belt. Oh, and another thing. Look how many black bags came off just one flight. You need to tie a ribbon or something around the handle on yours so you’ll recognize it.”
On the way home, Lucille pulled into a shopping center. “Come on. You need one more thing before you’re ready to travel.”
“What is it?”
“Trust me. It’s time to get you out of your comfort zone.” She slammed the car door and headed toward one of the stores.
“Again?” I was outside my comfort zone nearly all the time now. Half an hour later, I walked out of the shop with a cellular phone. In the car, it started beeping. I touched the screen, but it didn’t stop. “What? What’s wrong with it?” I held the phone out to Lucille.
“Nothing, honey. The phone is fine. That’s your seat belt beeping. Put it on, already.”
Believing I would never need to use the phone, I stuffed it in my pocket. Later that day it rang, but I couldn’t remember how to answer it. Whoever was calling rang off and called again four more times. Then my real phone rang.
It was Lucille. “How come you didn’t pick up your cell?”
“I was not knowing it was you.”
“I’m gonna call you again on it. This time, answer it, already.”
“Yes, yes, all right. Can you remind me how?”
Lucille chortled. “Just tap that green circle with the handset in it.”
Like a meshuggeneh, she called me not once, but three more times. After all that, she told me why she’d called in the first place—my passport had arrived.
I took a cab to her office, and she did a double take as I came through the door in a creased
pair of khakis, striped button-down shirt, and loafers. I’d been saving my new clothes to wear on the trip, but I wanted to surprise her.
“May I help you sir?” I saw the twinkle in her eyes and knew she recognized me.
“Very funny.” I turned in a circle. “So, am I ready to go?”
“You look fab.” Lucille handed me the passport and I opened it up. Oy vey, the photo! That was not the face of a man about to embark on the biggest adventure of his life. It was more like a mug shot. But it would have to do.
Next, she gave me the envelope with my plane ticket and cruise itinerary. I glanced at the cruise information without interest. I had no intention of actually going.
“I booked you a room at the Crowne Plaza. It’s easiest to take a taxi from the airport.” The hotel reservation confirmation she tucked into the folder with the cruise itinerary.
I waved the airline ticket at her. “This gets me home, too?”
“After the cruise—but you can change the date if you need to.”
I looked at my date of departure, just three weeks after I’d begun to have the dreams about Mira. I put it back in the folder.
“Pete, I hope your dreams all come true and you find who you’re looking for at the end of the rainbow.”
“Oh, she is still being the same girl. I know she is.”
“I’m rooting for you. Call or stop by when you get back. I’ll want to hear all about it.”
I waved on my way out. “See you.”
When I got home, I found a red bandana in my bureau and tied it around the suitcase handle.
***
The day before my flight, I put the things I had set aside for Benny in a box and bundled up the donations. As I set the stuff out in the hall, Miss Richter came up the stairs. One look at her fake smile and I ducked back inside my apartment.
She didn’t take the hint and go away. She called through the door, “Mr. Ibbetz? It looks like you’re getting used to the idea of downsizing. Do you have time for a chat?”
Oy vey. If I let her in, she’d see my suitcase, the passport, the tickets. She’d know I lied about my trip. “No. Not today.”
“It won’t take long. I brought you some brochures for assisted living facilities in the area. Maybe we could go over them together?”
“No thanks.”
There was a long pause. “All right, Mr. Ibbetz. I can see you’re busy. I’ll stop by another time. Would it be better if I called first?”
“No.”
“All right, then. I’ll just leave these here.” She shoved the brochures under the door.
I stood at the window and watched her leave, knowing I’d be long gone before she came back for another visit. Then I took a deposit to the bank and added to my balance, in case I needed more to tide me over once I found Mira.
***
Sometime in the night I woke up in bed in our dream house. As soon as I realized I was back with Mira, I rolled over to take her in my arms, but her side of the bed was empty. As I threw back the covers and reached for the bedside lamp, my back seized up. Stretching those last few inches to turn on the switch left me in agony. Light flooded the room, and I gasped at the sight of my hand, knotted and veiny, marred with age spots and purple bruising. In disbelief, I touched my face and the sagging flesh on my belly and legs.
I had gone back to her as Old Peter.
“Mira!” My voice came out so raspy I feared she wouldn’t hear me. “Mira.”
Her light footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she hurried into the room. “Peter, what is it—” Her scream rose above my hoarse cry. One hand flew to her mouth, the other to her pregnant belly.
I startled myself awake and lay there panting, clammy with sweat. I was still in Weequahic. I hadn’t left yet. I sat up, testing my back, but it hurt no worse than usual. It was all systems go. I sank back against the pillow and tried to go to sleep.
29
My flight left at 10:45, but I was up at six. I had cleaned out the fridge and wiped down the bathroom by seven and was ready to go at eight, my packed and repacked suitcases waiting by the door. Mira’s locket was safely hanging by its red cord around my neck, hidden by a new shirt. I wanted plenty of time to get through security. But I still had a few minutes to go by the bodega and check if Benny was there so I could say goodbye.
The sign on the door read closed, but inside the lights were on. Benny was behind the counter, his back turned. I knocked, and when he saw it was me and opened the door, he looked a wreck—dark circles under his eyes, stains on the front of his sweatshirt.
“Hey Pete.”
“Hi. How is Valeria?”
“She’s on the mend. They roughed her up pretty bad.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s going to be a while before things get back to normal.”
“I am so sorry, Benny. I am still feeling like it is my fault.”
He didn’t deny it. “You need to come in and get a few things? I’m not really open, but—”
“No, it is fine. I am here to say goodbye.”
He passed a hand over his face. “Oh. You heard. After what happened to Valeria, I can’t stay in this neighborhood anymore. She’d been bugging me for a while to move farther out, to a better location. I should’ve listened to her. Maybe the new owners will keep the stuff you like in stock. I can talk to them if you want.”
“I am sorry for your trouble. But it is me who is saying goodbye.”
“What do you mean? Did Miss Richter talk you into moving to assisted living?”
“No, I am leaving for Shanghai. Mira is needing me to come to her.”
He looked at me for a long moment before he spoke. “Are you coming back?”
“I am not knowing.” I shook my finger under his nose. “But I am knowing what I’m doing—and it is no different from the way you are making sacrifice for Valeria. I was writing down everything that happened, so you are knowing the whole story. You are my best friend in Weequahic, Benny. I will miss you.”
I handed him the envelope. “Is long story. You should read it later. While I am searching for Mira, I am making new friends, Jacob and Lucille. They are both helping me get ready for this journey. Now I am going.”
“Who are Jacob and Lucille?”
“Jacob volunteers at the library. Lucille is my travel agent. I know I will find Mira because the truest things are strange, and the strangest things are true.”
He shook his head like he was clearing out the cobwebs. “You have a travel agent?”
“Yes, yes. Booking this trip was trickier than I am expecting. Now, come here so we are saying goodbye.” I wrapped my arms around his middle, and my head fit under his chin. “You are good grandson, Benny.”
His arms tightened around me and he sniffled. “I wasn’t expecting you to take off like this. At my new place, I’ll still be looking for you to come through the door.”
I took out my handkerchief and blew my nose, nodding because I couldn’t speak.
“You were a great granddad, too.” He wiped a tear off his cheek. “Without you, who’s going to tell me about Weequahic’s glory days?”
“Maybe you are making new glory days in the suburbs, right?”
“Yeah. Hey, will you stay in touch? Let me know how your reunion goes?”
“Yes, yes. And if you get lonely for stories about the old days, you must call my friend Jacob at the library.”
“Will do. Pete, you’re one in a million. I hope you and Mira will be happy together.”
I checked my watch: 8:25 a.m. “We are. Now I must to call the cab.” The bell on the door jingled on my way out, and I walked quickly, not wanting to look back.
I was halfway down the block when I saw Miss Richter get out of her car and march into my building. I ducked into a doorway, thinking it was lucky she didn’t recognize me in my new clothes.
&
nbsp; Then my blood turned to ice. My bags and my passport were upstairs. How was I going to get past her? I waited a few minutes and she didn’t come out. Even though I’d made up with Benny, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t gang up with Miss Richter and try to talk me into staying if I went to him for help.
I fished my cell phone out of my jacket pocket and called the one number in the memory. “Lucille?”
“Yeah honey—what’s up? You should be on your way to the airport.”
“I am knowing this, but Miss Richter, the social worker from Elder Care, she is staking out my apartment. I am in the street, and my bags and passport are inside. She is thinking I am too senile to live alone. If she sees me, she will not let me leave for Shanghai. How am I getting rid of her?”
“Did she drive there?”
“Yes, I am seeing her car on the street.”
“What’s the make and model?”
I told her.
“Hang on, Pete. I’m texting you the number for a cab. You call it, alright? I’ll be there in five.”
30
I stayed huddled in the doorway, keeping watch for Miss Richter and trying to remember how to call the number Lucille sent in her text. My fingers fumbled on the screen, and when it went dark, I forgot how to bring it back. Just as I started to panic, the facial recognition feature unlocked the phone.
I touched the phone number in the text and the call went through. The dispatcher said my cab was four minutes away.
Lucille’s car must’ve lost its muffler on the drive over, because I heard it long before it came into view. Her red hair blew around her face as she barreled down the block and plowed right into Miss Richter’s car.
As the car’s alarm shrilled, Miss Richter dashed out of the building. Lucille waved a hand to shoo me inside while Miss Richter wasn’t looking. As I climbed the stairs, I heard Miss Richter say, “What’s the matter with you? Were you even looking where you were going?”
Inside, I put on the money belt and gathered my bags. Though I wasn’t leaving much behind, I was still leaving the place I’d lived most of my life. I gave the faded linoleum and the dingy walls one last look. On the way out, I dropped a goodbye note in Mrs. Simmons’s mail slot. My hand trembled, but from nervousness, not fear.