The Boy in the Basement

Chapter 23

It began to get colder in Molching, and Cora and I prepared to go though our first winter in the apartment. I went to visit my father and brother quite a lot, and met the woman my father had married. She was incredibly kind, and I knew that if I stayed with my father and met her as a child, I would have had no problem calling her mother.

The war raged on, and more people were killed. Max had a pretty bad bout of survivors guilt - I mean, it was always there, but it was a lot worse for about a week. He had read about one of the concentration camps in the newspaper, and how it got a new wave of Jews. It really got to him; all of them being sent to their deaths, and here he was, putting someone else in danger so he could be safe. But everyone convinced him that he deserved to be alive. I didn't see my family or Max that often anymore; once a month, maybe. But I was busy with either visiting my father and brother or working. Work was getting busier now, but it was sort of sad why; we didn't have as many competitors now because a lot of them were Jewish. When I wasn't doing those two, Cora and I were usually out doing whatever.

November brought the first show of the season, and Molching was covered in white. Kids were outside all the time playing. Now that they couldn't play soccer, they did their other favorite pastime; snowball fights. I had almost gotten hit by a few rogue ones that kids had thrown when I went outside. Liesel was coming over often, and once or twice even stayed at the apartment for the night. She loved it here.

December brought both good and bad. Christmas was right around the corner. Max turned 25 a few months ago, and we all celebrated that. There was only 1 bad thing that happened - America became involved in the war. They declared war on Japan at 1st, because Japan attacked them. A few days later, Germany was at war with them, too. So we were now at war with a world superpower. Already there were a lot more soldiers being drafted; you could tell if you just looked around. Most stores were being run by women now. My co-manager had to go fight, so until I promoted someone to his position temporarily, I was the sole manager. Luckily no one in my family had been sent out yet, although my father suspected it would happen to him or Stefan soon. They were on either end of the age group that usually went to war; 17 and 47. The whole country was a bit on edge, although no one wanted to admit it. Germany had been fighting well so far, right? We could keep going.

When I went back home for the first time in December, it was a few days before Christmas. Mama and Papa had asked me to stay for a few days  since it was right near Christmas. Cora was going back home, too, so our apartment was empty for a little while. The first day back was a bit strange; I hadn't stayed here for more than a few hours in... well, I wasn't exactly sure, but it had been a long time . I was happy to be back, though.

On Christmas Eve, we all had a big dinner. We ate late so Max could come up and join us. Max had apparently been cooking and preparing this meal all day. Liesel was telling a story about Rudy at school, and about how she got another book.

"So has the basement treated you well?" I asked Max as Liesel continued to tell her story to Mama and Papa.

"It's been fine. It's a bit cold, but still very cozy. I've been reading a lot more. How has your father and brother been?" He asked quietly. I hadn't told Mama and Papa yet about them, because I was scared as to how they would react. Well, I wasn't worried about Papa. He would be fine with it. But he would tell mama, and she was the one I was worried about. She didn't exactly react to my father too well last.

"They're alright." I said. "I've been visiting them a lot." We continued talking until dinner was done. Then Max, Liesel and I went downstairs because they wanted to show me a snowman they had made that afternoon while I was at work. It was small, but it had a hat and a cute button nose. Soon enough, Mama and Papa began coming down. Max gestured to us to be quiet, picked up some snow, made a snowball and threw it at Papa. It hit him in the arm, and he whipped around.