A Country Not Your Own

Chapter 15 Memories

Chapter 15 Memories

     “You remember that time we got in trouble with the nursemaid for stealing a whole cake?” Aaron laughs.

“Oh yes, we were seven…and she was so angry when she found our faces covered with German chocolate…”

“And she tried to whip us, but we ran for the hills and didn’t look back,” he says.

“And then there was the time she did catch us, so we tangled up her crocheting and blamed it on the schnauzer,” I recall.

“Yeah, and she wouldn’t dare have touched Grandfather’s dog. It was the time they were visiting. Was it right before our birthday, right?” he asks.

I think and remember it was a celebration. I remember being held in our father’s arms and blowing out the candles. There had been many candles…thirteen.

“No…thirteen candles…that was their thirteenth anniversary. I remember because I asked Abba if he was thirteen, and he said no; he said he was sixteen years older than that, and I got frustrated. Em scolded him for teasing me and made him tell me his real age. That’s when I called him old, and he body slammed me and tickled me until I couldn’t breathe,” Aaron laughs.

He smirks, and I do too at the old memory. It is awkward thinking about the good times when I have focused so much on the bad. Still, there is something distinct about that memory. Finally, I remember.

“And I asked Em what it was for if it wasn’t their birthday, and she said that it was in honor of the night they first met…when they were sixteen…I believe it was at a ball or perhaps in the park. I can never recall the story.”

“Neither can I. I was paying attention halfway at that time anyway. She told us that night…because we couldn’t go to bed after all that cake Grandfather let us have.”

I laugh, “Oh yeah, the nursemaid interrupted our parents’ dance to tell them we couldn’t go to sleep.”

“Or at least wouldn’t,” Aaron grunted. “She was always being overdramatic. She was such a nuisance.”

I laugh.

“So our parents came upstairs, and Em begged Abba to let her tell the story of how they first met. I was always asking to hear it after that; I thought it was better than any fairytale. Abba was quite bashful about the whole thing.”

I remember being wrapped in my mother’s arms listening intently while Abba and Aaron built a wooden train set they had been working on for days. 

“Yes, but if I do recall, he gave her something that night, very special…that related to the memory,” Aaron says. “That’s why he was hoping she would tell it anyway.”

“I wish I could recall what the story was,” I sigh.

“Who cares? It was just a love story anyway. What was really great was when we locked the nursemaid in the bathroom with no toilet paper while we redecorated her bedroom,” Aaron recalls ecstatically.

We both laugh until the pains start coming.

“Yeah, we couldn’t deny it. We did get a good spanking, but it was all worth it in the end when she had to stay in there for the whole morning while we ate the chocolate cake she had freshly baked.”

“Didn’t the butler eventually let her out?”

“Unfortunately,” I confirm.

“We were horrible children,” he replies. “Then again, she was always trying to get us in trouble for the slightest things.”

“What was her name, anyway?”

“I…I…Ida…Idalie!” 

“Right,” I confirm. “We refused to call her Ms.”

        “She was a servant, after all.”

~Aaron~

I am so glad to have found my sister. We spent all night talking about everything we could remember. It’s strange to call Father Abba. Abba is what I used to call him before I developed a hatred of him; Abba in Hebrew is the affectionate word for father, rather informal. I stopped feeling affection for him a long time ago. I know hating is bad, but I can’t think of another word for the remorse I have for him. He took away my mother and my sister. At least I have my sister, but I am sad to hear that our mother died.

Anne once again calls me Ach, Hebrew for brother. And I just started calling her Achot like before. Everyone is surprised that we are brother and sister, but they accept it; not only are we brother and sister, we are twins. A void inside me has been filled by finally being reunited. I love her so much. 

Then I think that Jason also loves her, but now he’s not even sure if it’s really his dog tag…he wants it to be…but he doesn’t want to say anything and doesn’t want to stand in the way of my sister and me bonding again. But if it is his dog tag, what happens next?

I have not seen Father since he stabbed me. I guess he wishes to forget me too, now that everyone knows that I am a Jew. I could have ruined his name by announcing he had not one but two Jewish children. Only time will tell, but in that time, I intend to get to know everything about my twin sister.