Chapter Twelve
America 1945
Smithson took the baby as they exited the cab, the cold February air kissing their cheeks. The soft New York snow fell around them, the clouds from their breath billowing. Manhattan was very industrialized, especially compared to German cow country. Eleanore straightened herself out and met back up with Smithson, dwelling beside him until he he advanced forward. The couple made it to the porch and Eleanore rang the door bell. They waited for a few moments and were met with a smile that turned sour when the grandmother's eyes met Eleanore. The elderly woman allowed them inside with a conceited attitude, the couple was an obvious burden. The young couple was met with a roomful of older women, friends of Smithson's grandmother.
Eleanore could feel their incriminating eye's boring into her skin as she entered the home. The women had old skin and too much makeup, covering their imperfections. Eleanore nervously looked around and the room and stayed close to Smithson. The women passed Hugo around, doting on his devilishly handsome face. (It didn't escape Eleanore's notice that Smithson's grandmother didn't hold him.) Eleanore couldn't help the feeling in her gut that the women's words were insincere and artificial. Eleanore kept a gracious face, answering all the questions she was asked. When Hugo began crying, Eleanore quietly excused herself so that she could nurse the infant.
"Actually, I'd like to excuse myself as well. I'll call for a taxi." Smithson took Eleanore to his old room, giving her privacy to feed Hugo. Eleanore thanked him and began nursing her baby boy. The feeling of Hugo suckling on her was fascinating, for such a small creature he had a tight grip as he suckled. Eleanore repositioned him, allowing the baby to feed more comfortably, as she sat on the soft bed. The room was small and had a portrait of two people, who Eleanore assumed was Smithson's parents. Smithson told Eleanore that his parents were killed in a car crash and he too grew up with his grandparents. Smithson looked a lot like his father, handsome and thin.
When Hugo was full, which was a miracle since he was always hungry, Eleanore fixed herself and headed for the sitting room once again. As Eleanore approached the room, she heard Smithson's grandmother saying goodbye to her friends. Unaware Eleanore could hear her, she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.
"Sure! I'll say goodbye to the little bastard and the godless bitch for you!" Eleanore could hear her sickening laugh ring as she closed the door. Eleanore looked down at Hugo who was sweetly dozing against her bosom. Eleanore clenched her jaw and reentered the room, her face showing no sign of anything wrong. Utivich joined them and declared the taxi had arrived. Eleanore and Smithson left but Eleanore stopped when she reached the taxi, looking down at Hugo's reddening cheeks. She made a conscious decision and handed Hugo to Smithson, promising to return in a couple of minutes. Utivich nodded his head and cradled the baby in his arms as he entered the cab.
Eleanore entered the house and made her way into the sitting room, where the elderly Jewish woman sat. The woman was staring at the pages of a book, her glassing sitting on the end her nose.
"Did you forget something, dear?" The woman still stared at her book, flipping the pages to find her place.
"Actually I did, Mrs. Utivich." Eleanore closed the door behind her and the woman looked up from her book, surprise evident on her face. Eleanore moved in front of her, forcing the elder to remove her glasses. "I'd like to tell you a story. The story begins with a little girl that who lived in Long Beach, California." She told her everything. She told her about Hugo, the near molestation, finding her dead grandparents, and losing every single person she ever loved. Eleanore didn't miss a single detail. "And so, Mrs. Utivich, my story ends with a second chance from a private who was nice enough to offer me one. When I took it, I thought I would find happiness and joy but I was met with the same hate and discrimination I received in Germany. You are just as prejudice and self righteous as the Nazi's. When I thought I could finally live a bright new life, you treated me like I was a disease ridden dog." Eleanore could feel the hot tears rolling down her face now, freely meeting the collar of her dress.
"You can beat me down and detest me all you want, but there's a little boy out there who deserves everything in the world. What he deserves most in this world is a father, you greedy bitch. No one, not even a cold-hearted woman like you, will ever take that away from him." Eleanore could see the tears in the old woman's eyes as she turned and opened the door.
"And next time you feel the need to address my son, I suggest you get it right. He's not a bastard. He's an Inglourious Basterd." The door slammed closed and Eleanore rejoined her waiting son and husband.