Julius Rosenthal will make candy no more and other short stories by Nicholas Russell (young adult books to read .txt) 📗

He shook Julius’ hand with vigor clasping it between both hands. “Where is my mind. That woman gave us some food we should eat.” Fredrick grabbed the basket set down next to Julius. He placed the basket between them and opened it. The food inside was simple a few pieces of beef sausage and some thick slices of bread. Fredrick offered Julius the first choice out of respect, once he had pulled a piece Fredrick did the same. They ate one sausage each and decided to save the other two for the morning. Julius took a slice of bread and tore a small piece free. The bread was cold and hard almost stale but still fresh enough to eat. As Julius finished the bread Fredrick looked to him. “Do you know where the 8am train is going?”

“I was not told where I will be going.”

“The eight am train is taking supplies to the Italians. It only makes one stop between here and Venice; the city of Fislisbach, which is just across the Swiss border.” Fredrick leaned back against the fountain and closed his eyes. “My grandfather took me to Switzerland once that is what I think heaven must be like.”

Julius was confused; he had seen this young man incite rage in a man who already seemed to dislike him to get information that he already had. “Why did you ask him where it went, if you already knew?”

A playful smirk crossed his face. “That man was a bully, and I knew what he was doing; he has done it before. Arrange passage for those who can pay him.

He looked to Julius and realized the statement he had just made and to whom. “Do not get me wrong. I am fine with people fleeing, but he is using his position to exploit all he can from those same people, people who are just trying to escape the horror of the ghettos.”

Looking at Fredrick, Julius was reminded more of Albert. His son had been a passionate young man who was ready to fight for what he believed in. It was that same passion that took him to war and ultimately took his life. Julius eyes began to itch again; he gently rubbed the corners and looked towards the door. While he couldn’t see it, he knew the blood was still there. He was thankful the train would come to the back of the station. Julius was praying he would not have to walk past that spot again.

Julius got up and walked to the station’s rear, looking out the darkened windows. Fredrick had fallen asleep and was snoring quite loudly. The noise echoed through the empty room as if it were a giant cavern. Julius missed the fireplace at home, thinking of the fireplace made him realize that he would need to rethink that word, because right now, Julius was a man without a place he could call home. Julius walked back to the fountain, slid the book around to the opposite side of Fredrick and laid down. He pulled the jacket tight, and using the book as a pillow Julius closed his eyes to try to sleep.

“Julius.” Fredrick’s voice was quiet, it was like he was trying to keep a secret even from himself. “Julius, are you still awake?”

Julius lay still for a moment, not sure if he wanted to speak. He liked Fredrick but he was tired and he still wasn’t sure he could trust him. The station was quiet, the only sound was their breathing. Julius turned slightly to see Fredrick. His face was masked by the late hour. All Julius could see was a faint blue-white line around his silhouette and the cold puff of mist that blossomed as he breathed. “Ja, I am awake.”

Fredrick raised his head looking to Julius, “Do you know what I do? What my job is with the Gestapo?”

Julius had not thought of what Fredrick did, what job they had him doing. He considered not asking, but knew that whether he asked or not, Fredrick would tell him. “No, what do you do?”

“I can type; it was a skill I somehow picked up in school. I typed all transfer orders; I would tap a few keys and someone would die. I typed the orders sending entire families to their death.” Julius sat up now, taking a closer look at the young man before him. Fredrick stood and walked to the front window, his eyes cast down to the patch of bloody snow. Even with his hands thrust deep into his pockets Julius could see them tremble as Fredrick spoke “They had planned to kill the Rabbi.”

He turned to Julius and for a moment, he could see the pain seared into the young man’s face before shadows covered it again. As he turned back Julius wondered if this was the embodiment of death standing before him or just a scared little boy “They… We do it in every town. I was told it made the people more docile to see their leaders shot down.”

Fredrick slunk back to the fountain and took a seat next to Julius. “What have I become?” Turning to face Julius, he continued. “My father says all soldiers take lives, but these are not soldiers’ lives, these are women and children.”

Julius wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what it should be. He had heard these words before; towards the end Albert’s letters were filled with these words,. the weary words of a soon to be fallen soldier, Julius hadn’t known what to say to Albert either. He thought again of the Rabbi and those who had huddled with him. “Where are they going?”

“You mean the people that left