SHORT STORIES{collection]

The Devil Made Me Do It

There he sat, I saw him from a distance, perfectly at ease while vaping on his Red Hot Chili Pepper flavored e-cigarette. The noticeable difference was it's glowing red tip. Otherwise, Mr. Jones naturally blended into the crowd of Brooklyn millennials that filled this Micro-Brewery in trendy Williamsburg. Sauhok Shikkusu had selected this site in Brooklyn for our first meeting with him. I must admit I was a bit skeptical; well, really I was more frightened at the possibilities of this meeting. But I couldn't give up this apparently once in a lifetime opportunity. I really didn't totally comprehend that guaranteed success and recognition would soon easily follow.

*******

Sauhok Shikkusu ran a small Public Relations/Branding start up firm: Seniozesseis, LLC. She knew me back from our college days ten years ago and easily tracked me down. I am an unknown freelance writer who has been sporadically published. I guess she must have seen my work?

Then again, to easily track someone down, there's always Facebook. I checked out her Facebook page; she was still the same hot chick I knew from college, hardly aging, but still probably well out of my reach. Her Eurasian beauty and eclectic fusion of styles always fascinated me. She needed a creative writer with an "open mind." I needed the work, so I accepted her business invitation. The bonus of being near her excited me.

Anyway, the following is what brought me to this millennial Billiesburg meeting with Mr. Jones:

*******

After contacting me, Sauhok and I met at her small Downtown Brooklyn loft space she shared with Rempaco, an aging, leftover hippie, liberal, New Age Mystic douche bag Psychic. My first impression after meeting him: He kept the "funk in funky," that being applicable to both meanings of funky listed in the Urban Dictionary. Her part of the loft was neat and corporate orderly, but with a bit of flair. His area was a way bit "bohemian" for my taste, but obviously not for hers. Sauhok still being eclectic as she ever was in environment, friends and all other things.

Sauhok and I exchanged small talk pleasantries and then departed to meet the first part of my assignment. As we settled into our Uber for the ride to somewhere in Brighton Beach she started to give me the 411 as the driver put on his headphones and listened to some loud Turkish music.

We were going to see Shlomo Klein. Mr. Klein was a ninety year old Nazi Holocaust survivor. The cruel SS Guards referred to him as a "Doppel Loser" (Double Loser.) This because he was not only a "Schmutzigen Jew" (Dirty Jew,) but a "Der Schwulea" (homosexual) as well. They made him wear the Star of David (identifying him as Jewish) on his right arm and a Lavender Triangle (identifying him as gay) on his left arm. This meant more dirty backbreaking work, more severe beatings and way less food to survive on.

But, in spite of their efforts, he did survive the Nazi Death Camps.

I felt like I was being drawn into something bizarre and of course, she being deliberately and coquettishly enigmatic, Sauhok somehow knew that I would just eagerly follow along.

*******

We met Mr. Klein in his small sixth floor apartment that faced the Atlantic Ocean in Brighton Beach. He has lived in this apartment since coming to the United States in the late 1940's. It is quite austere. There are no stacks of papers, pictures, or mementoes. The place is quite tidy and clean. It lacks that "old people odor" one would expect. He amazingly looked more like he was in his sixties, not his nineties. He was quite lucid and engaging.