The Family Magdon--Part 1

Sorry to Grace and Faith who have already read this. I didn't have time to write something new. 

The Family Magdon

Two Jewish children sat, huddled up under a large bridge in Camien, Poland, surveying the freezing world through eyes that were large in their starved faces.

Turning, so as to shield the bitter wind from Katerinca’s face, Hamtath looked down on the bluing form in his arms.

“Are you cold child?” He tried to speak in the comforting way his father often had.

“Yes Hamtath. But you are too.” The pale little girl looked up trustingly into her older brother’s face.

“Hold tightly to me and I’ll try to keep you warm.”

The hours slipped by, first darkening and getting colder and then finally, a soft glow began to come from the Eastern sky. Hamtath had struggled to stay awake and on guard but eventually fatigue had over come him and he slept by the chilling form of his sister.

As morning dawned, he was awakened by the sound of muffled footsteps behind him and a low voice calling, “Children, are you alright?”

He turned toward the voice and as he did so he felt the form of his sister,  stiff in his arms. The young woman, whose footsteps he had heard, was by his side in a moment gently feeling the cold girl’s heart.

In answer to Hamtath’s panicked and questioning look she spoke with a soft tremor in her voice, “I’m sorry young man. Her heart is not beating.”

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“Give me your hand Heidi and let me help you out the back door. They have come.”

An old woman woke from her dreams to feel her husband’s strong hands pulling her up and out of their large brass bed.

“Who, Gearston?”

“The Nazi’s. Now grab your coat and let’s go. Quietly.”

The two bent forms hastened into the dark alley and out towards the edge of town.

“Where are we going Gearston? And why are they chasing us?” The woman’s voice came between wheezes and her husband looked worriedly at her.

“Somewhere into the country, my dear, away from the town’s and soldiers. They are after us because we are Jehovah’s Witnesses. Here, lean on my arm and I will help you.”

“But you are tired too Gearston.”

“Not as much as you are. Come, take it. For once in your life don’t be stubborn.” He offered a weak smile to the woman who had never once disagreed with him.

“Gearston.” She mildly reproached him.

“Halt!” the moon shone of the black boots and gun barrels of three Nazi soldiers. “Who are you and why are you out past curfew?”

The elderly couple drew up, Heidi shaking terrified on her husband’s arm.

“My daughter—“ Gearston fumbled for an excuse. “She lives out in the country. She had a baby tonight and they do not think either of them will live. We must get to her to say our farewells.”

“Liar!” one of the men stepped forward and struck the old man with the butt of his gun. “If that was true you would have had to receive a message before curfew. And it is hours afterwards, why did you wait so long to leave your house?”

Heidi screamed as Gearston fell to the ground, bleeding from his temple.

“My husband! You have killed him!” she flung herself onto the fallen body.

“Get away old woman, unless you want to be lying beside him!” ruff hands grabbed her and pulled her away.

“Run!” the old man gasped. “Leave me.”

“Gearston!” she shrieked and struggled to get to her husband but a young soldier held her firmly.

“Hold still you old nag!” she jerked out of his grasp and ran towards the fields. She knew she had no chance but she would obey her love if it killed her.

She heard shouts and pounding footsteps behind her and then a figure appeared out of the darkness, running at her side.

“Let me help you M’am. Come this way, they will not follow you here.” The young woman’s arm caught her elbow and pulled her onward.

Heidi heard splashes and realized that her feet were soaking before her nose caught the stench.

“Let her go! She is almost to the sewers where she will die anyway.” The clatter of boots behind them stopped and turned the other way as the silent form beside her guided the old woman into a labyrinth of dark tunnels and terrible smells.

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Maria clutched the cold form of her baby daughter, great sobs shaking her thin shoulders. Stephono, held his wife in despair. Where was God in all this? Why had he allowed them to be kicked out of their house only three short days after their beloved baby was born? Maria had not been able to produce enough milk, since she herself was on very limited food, and this last night had gotten so cold—the baby hadn’t lived through to see the morning.

“Where are we going to burry her, Stephono? The Nazi’s won’t let us come anywhere near one of the cemeteries but I can’t just dig a whole in the ground for my baby girl!”

Stephono shook his head silently. He was at a loss and running into dead ends in all aspects of his life.

“Can I help you?” A young woman kneeled down in the dirt, under the bridge, by their sides.

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“Mama!”

Carlos watched as his 17 year old younger brother stood sobbing like a child in front of a small picture frame.

“Why’d thhe weave uth, Tarloth? I want Mama!”

“She didn’t want to Paoul. But she had to. Don’t worry about her, you’ll see her again.”

“In heaven, wif Deethuth?”

“Yes Paoul.”

“I want to go now! I don’t want to lif here!

“I’m sorry Paoul but—“ Carlos sighed. How many times would he have to explain this to his brother? Why couldn’t his brother have been born normal instead off—Carlos caught himself. He would never wish Paoul to be anything other that what he was. Letting out another sigh he continued his explanation. “—the bad guys will hurt us if they find out where we are. So we have to live here in this cellar and pray they don’t find us.”

“I don’t like the bad dyths.”

“I don’t like them either Paoul. That’s why they are bad. Now, we need to go find food, now that it is dark. Are you ready to go?”

Carlos really didn’t like taking Paoul on these nightly excursions but he had tried leaving him in the cellar once and the result had almost cost Paoul his life. There was less risk taking outside the city to the neighboring fields to hunt for food.

“Yeth. I’m weady.”

“Alright, grab your coat and we’ll go.”

They slipped out of the cellar and into the cold night air. All the citie’s windows were blackened, signifying curfew was on. Carlos prayed his nightly prayer for protection and taking Paoul’s hand he guided him as quietly as he could out of their alley towards the edge of the city.

A movement caught his eye and diving between two houses he pushed Paoul against the wall and cautiously leaned out looking strait into a young woman’s face.

She looked as terrified as he was for a moment and then moving like a cat quickly plastered herself of the house wall next to him.

“Shh!” she whispered as he looked astonishedly at her.

A detachment of Nazi guards’ marched past, boots clicking threateningly on the paved road. Carlos’s hand tightened on his brother’s wrist, silently ordering him to remain silent. Then the guards were gone and the street was empty except for them and this woman.

“Might I be right if I guessed you were on the same errand I am?” her teeth flashed a smile in the moonlight.

“That depends. What errand are you on?” Carlos remained guarded.

“The same one you are.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing waiting for her to enhance. She seemed to be waiting for him to do the same but after a few moments of silence she spoke.

“I am Ecarg.”

“I am Carlos and—“ Pauol broke in. “I am Pauol.”

“Nice to meet you both.” She offered Pauol her hand first and winced as he gripped it in his strong hands. More hesitantly she offered it to Carlos who barely touched it.

They stood in silence together for a moment each eyeing the others curiously. Finally she leaned close to Carlos and whispered,

“You don’t want the Nazi’s to meet Pauol do you?”

Carlos took a step back and eyed her suspiciously. “Why would you ask that?”

Ecarg shook her head at his stubbornness, “Because I have a place where you can stay, if you need.”

Carlos really mistrusted her now. “The prison?”

 “No. Please God I’ll keep you out of that.”

They were stuck, going around in circles.

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Alex stood in front of his book shop as his eyes wondered from shattered window glass at his feet to the torn books inside the shop. He shuddered, his turn had finally come. At least he could thank God that he had no family for them to take, only himself and he wasn’t going to stay around. Where would he go? He didn’t know but he would find a good hiding spot, well away from everything, and stay hidden until this sickening thing was over. He had no family, no close friends, so thankfully no one he was forced to protect. He could fend for himself and leave others to do the same. It wasn’t his responsibility to try and help them if it meant risking his own skin.

He readjusted his hat on his graying head and walked down the street towards the country. He hoped he could find an abandoned country house, or better yet, a cellar with provisions inside, where he could shelter the war out.

Five miles out into the country he came across what he thought was an abandoned house and stepping through the loudly protesting gate he walked around towards the back of the house looking for a cellar. He found one and as he pulled open the door he hears a step behind him and a soft voice.

“Can I help you sir?”

He spun around to face a young woman, his mind frantically searching for an excuse to be looking in someone’s cellar.

After a moments consideration he decided to be partially honest.

“I was looking for some food.”

“You are hungry?”

“Who is not these days?”

She eyed him carefully. “I am sorry but you will find no food in my cellar.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

“Sir.” She stopped him.

“Yes?”

She hesitated and glanced around cautiously.

“Yes?”

“Shalom?”

He looked hard at her. Was this a trap? To offer Jewish peace to a stranger was dangerous business. Why did she trust him and should he trust her?

He heard the word slip from his lips, “Shalom.”

“I have food in my house. It is not much but you may come in and partake of it with me if you would like.”

He followed her inside and down a long hall way. The house was eerily silent except for the creaking of their footsteps as they traversed the long passageway. They entered a large kitchen where the shutters were all tightly shut on the windows.

She saw him look curiously at them.

“I do not like prying eyes, sir. Here, I am sorry I have nothing better.”

She handed him a bowl of boiled potatoes.

“Danka.”  He thanked her and began eating hurriedly as she watched him.

“Where are you going Sir?”

“I do not know.” He wiped his mouth on the towel she held out.

“What are you looking for?”

“A place to live.”

“Why not in Camien?”

“Too many Nazi’s.”

“Why do you not like the Nazi’s?”

He looked at her sharply.  “I never said I didn’t. I only said I don’t like living close to them.”

“Why?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Because I want to see if you will answer me right away or try to put me off. If you answer me right away you are a fraud and dangerous. If you put me off then you have something to hide that I help hide.”

Alex blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Are you a Jew?”

“If I was?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” Suddenly she turned vicious. “Get out of my house. I could be picked up for so much as speaking to you! Get out! Get out before I get caught with you!”

Alex jumped up in surprise at her sudden change of demeanor.

“Get out!” She screamed at him gesticulating wildly.

He hurried out of the kitchen as she moved threateningly towards him. His hand was on the back door knob when her heard her voice, gentle again.

“Stop. You are safe, there was real fear in your face. You are a Jew. You may stay here. Come, I will take you to meet my family.”

“Your family? There are others in this house?”

“Seven.”

“Seven! Where?”

“I will show you. They are in the place you must stay too.” Leading him towards a small room at the back of the house she opened a large bureau and stepping side motioned him to follow her. He stepped inside and she closed the door behind them leaving them in complete darkness.

“Carlos, please open for us. It is safe. I have a new family member.”

Alex heard noise from over his head and looking up he saw the ceiling of the bureau move and a little light filtered down onto them. The young woman reached up and began pulling down a folded ladder then she proceeded to climb it, motioning for him to follow.

He found himself in a large attic looking at a young man pulling up the ladder behind him.

“I thought you said there were seven.”

“There are. This would be a good test so see if you can find them.”

Alex looked at the young woman strangely. She either was very odd or had a sense of humor--there was no one in the attic.

“Look closely.”

He began walking around the edges examining the walls but he still saw nothing.

“I don’t see where they are.”

The young woman looked at the young man and they both smiled proudly. He walked over to one of he walls and putting his finger into a knot hole he removed a panel to revel six figures in different positions all looking at them curiously.

“Sir,” the young woman stepped between him and the panelings. “Meet the family Magdon.”

Alex stepped into the small room and silently took in his surroundings. They were obviously not a biological family. A woman who looked very tired was leaning on a man; they were certainly a young couple. Probably, based on their olive toned skin, they were Jewish. Next his eyes saw a thin boy with very red hair. He was holding tightly to an old woman, whom, Alex suspected, was in her seventies.

The young man who he had seen earlier stepped over to the last occupant of the room.

“My name is Carlos, I am nineteen and this is my seventeen year old broth---“

“I am Pauol! And I haf a wooden tar. Would you lite to thhe it?” the face that was turned up to Alex wore the smile of a child excited about a new toy but he could see something darker and thicker than peach fuzz growing on his upper lip and chin. That explained his presence. Alex smiled to himself. What had he come to that he would be living with a simple minded person?

Pauol smiled delightedly. “Oh! Lemme tell you their namth firth! This one,” pointing to the elderly woman, “her name ith Heiti but I tall her Grandmama. Thith little boy, (ithn’t he tute?) ith Hamtath. And they,” continuing on to the couple, “Are Stephono and Mawia.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance all. I am Mr. Steincipher.”

The young woman stepped forward. “We forget formalities here and call each other by first names. We are a family after all so we have the same last name. It would get a little confusing after all with four, and now five, Mr. Magdon’s, two Mrs. and one Miss.”

Alex wasn’t pleased, how disrespectful feeling to have a younger man or woman call you by your first name. But, after all, this woman was helping him. Perhaps it would only be polite to let her have the little fancy.

“You may call me Alex then but I have my own last name. I do not need to take on a fictitious one.”

He saw the young woman’s face harden and an angry light spring into her eyes.

“My name is Ecarg—Magdon and this is my family. It you do not care to take on the last name than you may stay as a guest but you will not be one of the family, Mr. Steincipher.”

Alex felt the sting of her tongue as if he had been slapped in the face and he opened his mouth to answer but she continued.

“And, Mr. Steincipher, you will kindly remember that all occupants are to be treated as your equal.”

So she had picked up on his discomfiture of living with a simple person, an old lady, and a child. The couple hadn’t bothered him though their clothes were rather dirty and the young man named Carlos was fine though he had not paid him the honor due to an older man.

“Forgive me,” He ungraciously relented. “If you insist, my name is now Alex Magdon.”

                                   

      End of Part One

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Part 2 will be posted the beginning of July!