A/N: Sorry it took me awhile to update. I was drained from writing the last chapter and needed some time before writing this one.
Silence.
That was the only sound that could be heard after Gerald left. Everyone was too stunned to even move, let alone say anything. What could they say about the horrors they just heard? How could anyone begin to move on knowing this happened to their friend?
Phoebe was the first to stir, causing everyone to jump from the sudden movement. "Um," she said meekly, "I'm going to check on Gerald." Her movements rigid, she left the room. The remaining mannequins slowly came back to life and started to look at one another. One by one everyone quietly left back to their rooms, with some taking another drink before leaving. The only two people to remain were Arnold and Helga.
Arnold grabbed Helga's hand and lifted her up. Without a single word uttered between them, they went upstairs to her room. Arnold had gotten her situated in bed. He was about to leave when she grabbed his hand and pleaded with her eyes for him to stay. Arnold crawled into bed with her hand held Helga tightly. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. But that wasn't enough to calm her nerves.
"How could anyone go through so much at such a young age?" Helga asked quietly.
"I don't know," Arnold replied, playing with her hair. "I don't know how anyone at any age can go through that, let alone Gerald. Or Patty. Or you."
"Or me?" Helga questioned. "How is what I went through anywhere near what Patty or Gerald experienced?"
"You were beaten and almost killed, Helga," Arnold explained. "You had to hear people being killed in the gas chambers at Auschwitz. That would traumatize anyone."
Helga sighed. "This is just too much. So much death. So much suffering."
"I know it is, but that's behind us now. What matters is we're alive right now, and we have each other." He kissed her forehead. "Try to get some sleep."
It's true we have each other, Helga thought. But at what expense?
Helga woke to find herself in a dark room. She felt around to find all the windows were boarded up. Her hand grazed over a door handle. She jiggled it fiercely, but it wouldn't open. She knocked on the door, screaming for help, but all she can hear was muffled laughter on the other side. No one came to help. A dim light turned on overhead. Helga looked up and screamed at the sight above her. Multiple shower heads.
"Not again," she whimpered. She fell to the ground, shutting her eyes. It's only a dream. You're going to wake up and this will be all gone.
Helga opened her eyes, but what she saw wasn't what she expected. She was still in the room, but she was no longer alone. There were prisoners, wearing striped pajamas with a yellow triangle over their left breast. Their heads were shaven and their bones protruded out of their skin. She also saw some people who had darker skin. The Rhineland bastards. Their clothes were torn and their faces bloodied.
The crowd parted ways as someone walked up to Helga. It was a little girl whose face Helga couldn't see properly. She had blonde hair and wore a blue jacket with a Star of David on it. She couldn't be more than ten years of age. She carried something black in her hands. As the little girl got closer, Helga could see she was holding a small pair of shoes. Helga clasped her hand over her mouth from seeing the shoes. Her eyes then moved to the little girl's face. In the center of the girl's head was a bullet hole with blood and pieces of bone and brains dripping out. The girl pointed at Helga and gave her the shoes. The rest of the crowd started to move in closer to Helga. She screamed at the top of her lungs as the showers released the poisonous fumes.
Helga's eyes shot wide open as she gasped for air. Cold sweat dripped from her head, drenching the blue fabric beneath her. She looked up to find Arnold, still sleeping peacefully. Helga sighed in relief. It was only a dream, she told herself. You're safe.
She tried to fall back asleep, but her attempts remained futile. She didn't want to wake him from his peaceful slumber. Carefully, she climbed out of bed and left the room. As she walked downstairs, Helga see a glow coming from the lounge. She entered to see Eugene sitting in a chair, drinking.
"What are you doing up?" Helga asked as she sat down next to him.
"Couldn't sleep," he answered. He took a sip. "Want some?" Helga nodded and Eugene prepared a drink for her. "Why are you up?" he asked, handing her the drink.
"Nightmare," Helga stated, taking a sip. She delved into her haunting dream, giving every last gory detail. "When that little girl pointed at me, it felt as if she was blaming everything that happened to them on me." Helga chugged the remaining alcohol and poured another drink.
"You know it isn't, right?" Eugene assured, also refreshing his drink. "No one blames you for what happened."
"But can you blame me for once believing what the Nazis did was for the best?" Helga asked, her eyes focused on her glass.
"Did you always believe it?"
"No. It was only after Hitler took power. It was all over the house. Big Bob could only talk about non-Aryans are the blame for everything wrong with Germany."
"Then we're not to blame," a voice said from outside. Eugene and Helga turned to see Arnold walking in. "I was wondering where you went. You kind of left your mark on me." He motioned to his sweat stained shirt.
"I had a nightmare," Helga said. "I didn't want to wake you so I came down here. Eugene was already here so we just started talking."
"Was it about the shoes in the gas chamber again?" Arnold sat down with a drink of his own.
"Basically," Helga replied.
"I see I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep." Curly walked inside and joined the rest. "As a soon to be medical professional, I prescribe no more Gerald tales before bed."
"Hear, hear," Arnold cheered before taking a drink.
"What are we cheering about?" Sid asked as he came in.
"You, too?" Eugene asked. Sid nodded. "Join in."
"Should we be expecting anyone else to come?" Sid asked.
"Give it time," Helga said, looking at the clock and pouring more drinks. "Harold will be up soon."
Sure enough, Harold came down, along with Patty and Nadine. They all settled down and drowned into their alcoholic beverages.
"Who was the first one down?" Nadine asked.
"I was," Eugene admitted.
"Speaking of which," Helga said, swirling her drink, "you never told me why you were up in the first place, Eugene."
"Well, I guess like everyone, Gerald's story. It just made me think about things."
"Like what?" Sid asked.
"Like how when we were living in Berlin, we could barely get food on the table because we lost business. All because we're Jews."
"He's right," Harold said. "I had a good job working at the butcher shop until SS burned it to a crisp."
"I was part of the theater group," Eugene mentioned. "It got lonely at home so I went there for some company. Then SS commandeered and made it a German theater. No Jews allowed."
"We lost everything," Patty chimed in. "My house was burned to the ground because my parents fought back. Gestapo took them away. I never saw them again. If Harold hadn't taken me in, I don't know where I would have ended up."
"Patty, I had no idea," Arnold said, patting her hand.
"I didn't want to tell anyone. Just talking about my… rape was hard enough. It still is." Patty chugged a glass and stared at it. "Although this helps a bit."
"What's going on down here?" Phoebe mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
"Group therapy," Helga said. "Sit down and have a drink."
"Sitting and drinking," Phoebe repeated.
"How are you doing with all of this, Phoebe?" Sid asked.
"I feel bad for Gerald more than anything. This has always been a difficult subject for him. So I would have to say that I'm proud that he finally got it off his chest."
"That's great and everything," Sid began, "but how do you feel about it all?"
"Well," Phoebe fumbled with her drink, "it is disheartening knowing that I can't have kids with the man I love. And it hurts knowing that I can't be with either of my parents because of this stupid war. I hate that my parents couldn't make their marriage work and they decided to live on opposite sides of the world of each other so they don't have to deal with one another. I'm just sick of it!" Phoebe slammed her glass onto the table, breaking it.
"Oh Pheebs," Helga said as she rushed to help her friend. "Are you okay?"
Phoebe looked at the hand that once possessed the glass now covered in blood. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
"Here, let's get you cleaned up," Nadine offered, taking the wounded girl to the kitchen. Helga picked up the shards of glass and threw them away.
"Well, this has been a fun night," Helga chuckled drunkenly as she sat back down. "And we haven't gone through everyone's reason why everyone's awake."
"Who hasn't gone?" Harold inquired, refilling his drink.
"Nadine hasn't," Eugene blabbed. "Nor Sid, Curly, and Arnold."
"Wait, what about Madam Fortress Mommy?" Harold whined, pointing towards Helga.
"Get your finger out of my face, Pink Boy," Helga growled, slapping it away. "Plus, I' be already shared before you got down here."
"I want to know!"
"All right!" Helga yelled. "Would you stop whining? Criminy." For the third time, Helga went into detail about the recurring nightmare she's had ever since visiting Auschwitz, and the addition to it a few hours ago.
"Wow," Harold gasped. "That's disturbing."
"You don't say," Helga muttered sarcastically.
"Well then," Patty slurred. "Who wants to go next? We can wait for the others to wake up so they don't miss anything."
The group looked around to see who will be the next person to share. Phoebe and Nadine then entered the room again, now accompanied by Gerald.
"I see we're having a drunken late night family meeting," Gerald observed. "Where are Rhonda and Lila?"
"Still sleeping," Eugene said. "I honestly have no idea how they could be sleeping after your story."
"You're all up because of what I told you guys?" Gerald asked.
"Afraid so, Geraldo," Helga bluntly stated. "Your little tale had us thinking about what has happened to us or thoughts in general about this entire ordeal. And now, either Curly, Nadine, Sid, or Football Head over here has to spill their guts."
"What about everyone else?" Gerald asked.
"Criminy, I am not saying it again!" Helga covered her face with her hands. Patty gave a synopsis to Gerald on what he missed before he woke up.
"Well, damn," he spoke. "This has been quite the night."
"And it's about to get more interesting," Curly implied. "I've always been eccentric. Even when I was a kid. My father was a doctor under the reign of Hitler. He specialized in sterilizations, especially those Aryans that weren't deemed 'whole.' My craziness was considered crippling and according to law, I should have been sterilized as well. My father couldn't do it. Instead, he sent me to school in France. And I've been there until I was kicked out of medical school. I tried going back to my parents, but they acted like I never existed. They wouldn't acknowledge me. And so I've moved to Poland, met Sid and Gerald on several occasions, and been on my own until I got the call to come help with the escape."
"That's horrible," Phoebe said, drinking.
"Why did your parents refuse to acknowledge you?" Helga asked.
"I don't know," Curly shrugged. "I guess they were ashamed of me and what I am. Or they were trying to save my life."
"I'd go with the latter," Arnold said. "At least have the hope they loved you enough to not mutilate you when you were a kid."
"That's what I keep telling myself," Curly said sullenly. "Hopefully, one day I'll be able to believe it."
The group sat silent for a moment, taking in what they had just heard. Nadine coughed.
"I guess I'll go next," Nadine volunteered. "I knew Rhonda and Lila from school. We all went together. When the war came, my father immediately enlisted in the British army. I was left alone since my mother had passed when I was a kid and Rhonda and Lila already evacuated England. He was there for only a month before he was shot down in his plane. His grave is now in the Atlantic."
"Shit, Nadine, I'm sorry," Gerald empathized.
"It's not your fault," she said. "After his death, I left England and went to Norway. I couldn't find work so I joined the black market. I was doing well until the Nazis came. They were searching for us, so I fled to here. Rhonda and Lila took me in, but I missed working. I was able to join the market here and make a good living. It also provided good information about what was going on in the mainland. And that's how I found about you all."
"Shit, this is getting heavy," Harold muttered.
"Just wait until you hear what I have to say," Sid said, placing his glass on the table. "I was born in Italy but lived my childhood outside of Berlin and the rest of my time in Poland. Living in Germany, I met Stinky, who also introduced me to Harold. My father was part of the Polish army when the Nazis invaded. I was working in a pet shop at the time. My father was captured and sent to Auschwitz I. This was before it became an extermination camp. From what I learned, my father tried to stage a coup with some of the other prisoners. They failed, and they were sent to Block 11. Basically that was the prison inside the prison, and no one left it alive. He was forced to stand in this room built for only one person. Sometimes there would be three people in that cramped space. They couldn't move or anything. Then, my dad was brought to the firing wall right outside the cell block. They shot him to death.
"Of course it took me years later to learn about this. By that time, my mom died shortly after finding out he was taken prisoner. My shop was shut down by the Nazis. I couldn't find any other work, so I talked to Stinky, and he mentioned the black market. I was able to find it in Krakow and I stayed with them."
Everyone took another drink. By now, they were emotionally drained from the confessions.
"Well, Arnoldo, can you top that?" Helga asked, looking at him.
He shook his head. "I don't have anything that traumatic," he confessed. "I lived with my grandparents after my parents disappeared when I was a baby. My grandparents were against Hitler the entire time, and told me not to believe what he said. And to never eat raspberries. Anyways, I followed what they said. I was lucky to find that Helga didn't believe them either, so we met up every week to purge our feelings. Stinky would join us on occasion. Right before I was drafted, my grandparents died. I knew they would have been disappointed if I obeyed, along with Helga, so I left and took Harold, Patty, and Eugene with me. We hid in France until we were caught and sent to Auschwitz. I merely survived. No terrifying experience until Helga was captured." He held her hand. "That was the scariest time of my life. Nothing else could compare."
They all looked at each other as Arnold finished. They were tired, but felt a sense of relief to get everything off their chests.
"Hitler sure did fuck us up," Helga chuckled softly, "but in his sick, twisted way, he brought us together. Rhonda and Lila, too. Even though they aren't here right now, his war brought them here, away from their parents. In a way, we're all orphans."
Curly chuckled and raised his glass. "To being orphans."
"To being orphans," the rest cheered as they tried to drink their sorrows away. But they knew it never will. The stories may have ended, but the pain they have endured remained in every single person there. No matter how hard they tried, they could never escape the death that lingers with them.