German-Jewish

Chapter 11

                Most of the time in the hospital was boring. The process of getting healthy again was a constant uphill battle and it's not like one day you suddenly look and feel better. They only let us eat at certain times and only give us a certain amount. I'd be lying if I aid it didn't remind me of how they me or other prisoners eat in the camp. Robert said the same.

It had been quite a few weeks before we saw anyone new. I'd showed Robert everything I took from my house in Germany after persuading the nurse to let me keep my army backpack. The books, pictures, dishes (which, as I had guessed, were broken), everything. "Stiles had pictures of the house, too," I told him, "when we see him I'll ask him for them."

Later in that day I'd been reading one of my favorite German books and Robert kept bothering me to play some card game I'd never heard of with him. I gave in while acting annoyed, though I secretly loved it. He was sick and coming back from being near-dead, but he still found the time to not leave me alone.

I heard the heavy doors open and didn't think anything of it. "Look who came back for more," Robert called, which made me look up and forget about the game.

"Thank God, I didn't understand a bit of this," I let my cards fall to the nightstand as I saw Daniels, Stiles, and Aiello walking up. Robert pretended to be offended.

"Y'all are looking better," Daniels commented. They looked like they'd washed their faces and they had some of their bulkier gear off. "Got some good news."

"It's over, we're going home," Stiles commented and sat on the edge of my bed.

I sat up, still quite painfully, and gave him a big hug. "That's amazing!" I cried.

After a moment I remembered that he still might have those pictures. "Do you have those pictures from Cologne? My house?"

He reached into one of his pockets and laid out a ton, and I mean a ton of pictures in front of all of us on the floor. I swung my legs over the side of my bed so I could lean over and look. It hurt like hell, but I didn't care. "Take what you want," he offered to everyone.

I gathered the pictures from Germany. "Can you give me your address? I want to mail them back to you. Some of these might get you a job or something. Is that how it works?"

"Kinda," he shook his hand in a 'maybe' gesture. He took a napkin and wrote his address quickly before giving it to me, which I put on the nightstand. My half was very crowded, while Robert's was bare and had a lamp pushed toward him. Every two beds had a nightstand to share.

"Thank you so much," I hugged Stiles again. "I appreciate it."

They stayed and chatted for a long while, until it got dark. Then they had to leave.

Robert and I were brought food for the last time for the night when another person entered the room. Pierson was heading toward me. "Hey," he greeted and sat in a chair next to my bed.

"Hello, sir," I smiled and continued eating.

"Jesus, save room to breathe," he laughed a little.

I smiled and finished chewing. "I'm so hungry; they only let me eat at certain times of the day. It's like torture. It's like in the camp." Robert nodded in agreement.

"You know why they do that?" I shook my head at him. "Because if you eat too much while you're recovering, it could kill you. I don't know if you've noticed, but they up the amount of food you get every week or so. Your body isn't used to eating normal amounts, so they have to get you used to it."