For Max who taught me to dream
My name is Felix, I'm 7 years old. Let me tell you a story, I think I've got the hang of it now.
My Uncle Max tells me many stories as does my mother. Mama tells me stories like 'The Standover Man' and what it was like in Germany when she lived with her foster parents. She'll even sometimes make up fiction stories when it's bedtime, or when I'm ill. She doesn't speak much of her mother or brother, I think it upsets her. Papa sometimes tells a few, like how he met Mama and how he'd always beg for that kiss. "I knew she always loved me, she never denied it." I'd laugh at that, especially when Mama would blush.
My favourite stories come from my Mama, but I also love Max's. He tells me about his religion. He'd always tell me if you really are passionate about it; when you die, you live on in dreams.
He told me once; when he used to dream of his mother when he lived on Himmel Street, that he'd visit his mother. That would leave me confused, but he told me it was in a dream. A dream that was real.
He asked me if I wanted to visit my grandparents, the ones that were picked up my death after the bombing. I'd say "yes, but how?"
He taught me how.
It didn't take much, but words to see. Words.
I dreamt, I took those words, I used them to build my path; to heaven. Not to be dead, but to exist in a dream.
From there I found Himmel Street, just as my parents would describe it. Just as Max would.
Let me put that into words for you.
Mama put me to bed, in a small room with my siblings tucked in their bunks of the quiet hotel room.
I closed my eyes and used those words. A snow shaker, quietly leaving snow on the paved streets. Everything stuck behind a cloud, und the sun, doesn't look like the sun; but instead, a silver oyster. He told me how the sun felt on my skin, und what the air felt like to breathe, or how snow felt on my tongue.
I looked around me and felt my insides jumping at the sight.
I saw people on the streets, I heard the honking of cars, I smelled hint of smoke. Then I felt a ball, thwack me on the cheek. "Ow." I turned and looked behind. A boy called out. "Traurig!" I kicked his football back to him and he went back to a group of boys.
That's when a man came up to me. "Are you okay?" He asked concerned. Apparently I had a blood nose; I noticed when he wiped my lip with his thumb and saw the red stain the blood had left. "Here, I'll get you a rag." The man with grey, untidy hair led me into his house. "What's your name boy?" He asked me. I didn't answer. I looked around his house. Looked a lot like what my Mama would describe as her house. He had a damp rag in his hand and was about to wipe it on my face, but I stood to look around. I suppose I was in my own world.
I saw a woman outside the kitchen window; pick up a basket of laundry from the ground. My eyes followed her as she walked in. "Come on, turn around and let me help you." The man spoke. That reminded me that I had a blood nose as I felt it run down my cheek and past my mouth.
"Who's this?" The woman asked. I just stared up at her, I hadn't moved and I hadn't turned to look at the man. "I don't know, I saw him get hit in the head so I led him in to clean it up. He hasn't spoken a word." The woman then chose me to question. People would probably be scared, but I didn't really feel anything. I just looked into her cold eyes. "Do you have a home?" She didn't bother with my name. I answered her, just to avoid being slapped or something. "Not here." "What do you mean?" "I'm not dead, I came in a dream." I turned my head to see how the man had reacted. The same as the woman; blank.
My suspicions grew larger as did my itch to run up the stairs and back down again, all the way to the basement. Then I did. I sprinted to see my mother's bedroom and I sat on her bed just sitting in my own thoughts. I heard footsteps from behind on the stairs, so I returned to the kitchen. I stopped on the stairs. "Please don't touch anything. Have you taken anything?" I guiltily took the book from my pocket that I'd swiped from my mother's bed. "The invisible Man, by H.G. Wells." I said in an almost inaudible whisper. "Get out you Saukerl!" I heard the woman.
The man was staring at me from the bottom of the stairs. I squeezed past him and stared at the basement door. I wasn't sure what the man was thinking, but I knew the woman didn't like me. "Can I go in the basement?" The woman started pushing me out the door and I fell backward onto the cold snow. To grab her attention before she slammed the door, I yelled from the ground. "I'm looking for Hans!" I quickly got up.
I remembered about my nose again. I wiped it with my sleeve. "Who are you?" The woman asked from the door. "Do you know any Hubermann?" "That's us. Now answer our questions." "My uncle sent me here. He told me to look for you." I swallowed, tasting the blood. "He's a Jew. He said he once hid here, during the war. His name is Max Vandenberg." The two stood in the door way and the slowly walked to me. They were so confused, I started to giggle and then I cried remembering why they weren't living in our house like my Grandpa Alex.
"Was ist los mit dir mein kind?" What is wrong with you my child? I just leaped into his arms and hugged him. "I can't believe it's you! Please come back!" Hans held him tight. "Let's get inside." Rosa said, noticing people starting to look in their direction.
Tears were pooling my eyes, I wouldn't let go of Hans as he carried me inside. Rosa stayed outside to talk to a questioning Barbra Steiner. "Hans." I said looking at the damp spot I left on his shoulder. "Danke." "For what?" Words weren't working for me right now. I was too upset. "Caring for my mother." I choked, losing by breath with another sob.
Hans POV
The strange boy started crying. He hugged me tight, so I hugged him back. I was very con fused. When I carried him inside, he told me "Danke" "For what?" I asked. "Caring for my mother." He started crying again. It was my turn for my insides to tingle. He looked like her too, but not the hair or his small eyes.
After that, I didn't know what to say. What am I supposed to do?
I stopped crying and sniffled. "Can I see the basement?" I asked tracing a circle with my spoon in a bowl of revolting pea soup that Rosa had just warmed for me. "If you stop playing with your food and eat it, Saukerl." I laughed at her language. Hans was smiling and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Have you had pea soup before?" "No." "Well I think you'll like it." "Max told me it's the best thing he's ever thrown up." I said laughing.
"He knows Max?" Hans hadn't told Rosa who the boy was yet, he wanted her to find that herself. "Guess who his mother is." He said trying to force a spoon into Felix. "I hate you." She answered. "You mean that Saukerl, that lazy pig that's trying to make me eat poo."
Rosa came to realise by Hans' question and the boys' smile that he belonged to her daughter Liesel. His smile was an exact copy. "That Saumensch has got herself in to a lot of trouble." Was all she could say. "What for?" I asked puzzled. I'm seven, how am I supposed to understand. "Never mind." "But-""Shut up." "Yes Oma." I smiled like butter spreading onto bread, the cheeky way my father would. "And I'm going to kill your father." "You don't know who it is." "It's Rudy, I can tell by your hair and smile." She stared back at me. "You look like you want to punch me in the face."
Then it went black and I was sat up in bed with my mother standing over me worried. "Are you okay?" She asked. "Ja Mama, what is it?" "Werner woke me, he said you were crying and you were bleeding from your nose." I giggled, and laid back down into my pillow.
That's the end of the story, if you wish for me to continue, review your requests and tell me what you'd like to happen and I'll have a go. Hope you enjoyed, and please review!
-Emily
