1943 - four

1943

            Hersch and Jim made their way through the dark, battered alleys without speaking. Jim had no idea where he was being led, and he wondered if he should be afraid. But deep down, he knew he still trusted Hersch. He still trusted all of them, even Erich.

            He was feeling pretty shaken up. Seeing everyone again was like running into long lost brothers who had suddenly pointed guns at him. Jim wondered if the other guys had missed him as much as he missed them.

            Hersch stopped suddenly and Jim had an awful sense of déjà vu. They were standing in front of a destroyed building at the top of a short flight of stairs. He stared down at the staircase, which disappeared under the street and ended at a basement door.

            Jim gave Hersch a disbelieving look. “Really?” was all he could say. Hersch scowled at him, clearly not appreciating the ironic similarity between this place and their room at Wellington.

            “Come on,” Hersch growled, heading down the staircase, well ahead of Jim.

            “Hey, wait!” Jim called, as Hersch as they headed down the dark corridor. The building had obviously been bombed ages ago, but the basement, though blackened by fire, was still standing. “This is where you live?” Hersch did not answer. “Oh, come on, Abrahamson,” Jim groaned, tiring of Hersch’s secrecy. “You really think you can’t trust me? She asked me to come here.”

            Hersch did not turn back to Jim, but said, “This is where we stay most of the time. Technically neither of us is supposed to be alive. We usually stay here most of the day, because it’s so safe. But when Gabe showed up here, I didn’t want to…”

            “You knew Gabe was here?”

            Hersch nodded seriously. “She wrote him too,” he muttered. “He got here before you and came to see me. But you and I both know where his loyalty lies,” Hersch’s tone was thick with implications, and Jim suddenly felt a little sick, “So I met him in a friend’s rooms. I couldn’t take him here.”

            Jim nodded. “Did you know Erich was here too?”

            Hersch shook his head. “I heard rumors, but he must have been transferred here not too long ago. I hadn’t seen him around.” He hesitated for a second, and then went on. “She must have known. That was her card to play with Gabe, to bring him here.” That made sense.

            The pair reached a door at the end of the hallway and Hersch stopped, looking down uncomfortably. “Um, she’s in there,” he said uneasily. “Listen, I remember what you said, that last day of school. So I’ll, uh, leave you two alone for a minute.” Jim smiled, realizing that Hersch hadn’t forgotten the almost-truce they had come to all those years ago. “But,” Hersch’s face was hard again. “If you touch her…”

            “Whoa, don’t worry about it!” Jim interjected. “I mean, you’ll be right out here, right? I wouldn’t…”

            “Never stopped you before,” Hersch said darkly. Jim was starting to feel pointlessly attacked, and he wanted to defend himself. But all he really wanted was to get to the other side of that door, Hersch or no Hersch. So he gave Hersch a nod and opened the door.

            When he entered, Jim was first shocked by the size of the place. The sparsely-furnished room extended so far back into the shadows there was no way to judge how big it actually was. It occurred to Jim that this must have been the rebel house, back in the early days of the ghetto. It was the center of the series of now-crumbled tunnels under the city. Now it was Hersch’s sanctuary.

            Jim was so awed by his own realization; it took him a long minute to catch sight of the shadowy figure sitting on the mattress in the corner. She noticed him, though. She set down her book and walked tentatively towards him. She stepped into the light of the single lamp and the breath was forced from Jim’s lungs at the sight of her.

            “Rebecca,” he breathed.

            An unbelieving smile broke out over her face. “James.”

            He didn’t have time to take her in, to say anything else. Jim wrapped his arms around her waist and she threw hers around his neck. The simple embrace was so emotional, Jim couldn’t bring himself to do any more than hold her, for fear that he might ruin that moment. She buried her face in his shoulder Jim heard her stifle a sob. A lump rose in his throat at the sound, but he swallowed it, inhaling the familiar smell of her hair, holding her tighter.

            They would stay like that for a long time, before he finally let her go. Eventually Hersch would come back and they would have to talk about what to do next. Eventually he would have to hear what had happened to them in those years he had been gone. But right then Jim didn’t care that his friends had all pointed guns at him, that he hadn’t been home to America in two years, that he might die in that ghetto. He had Rebecca.

Author's Note

Again, posted for noelwrimo, so very rough

Reviews

[Arianna]

awee
i like it.
its very short though.

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[trish420]

Aww... so sweet in midst of such ugliness, simple and beautiful.