I AM MANY

Chapter 9: Mission

'What's it gonna be next dad? What kind of death will I see? Murder? Suicide? Famine?' An air of eerie calm has gotten into me now. I am ready for my fourth journey, standing face to face with my dad while the door appears. The sand trickles down into the bottom chamber of the hourglass.

"It is hard to keep your hopes up when you're surrounded by darkness all around. Let's see what's in store for you next, son." Dad smiles warmly as usual.

A door appeared and I stepped in, ignoring the lithographs inscribed on it. I landed in a clearing under moonlight, on a cold European night. Large pine trees cast their ghostly shadows around me, snowflakes fell on the ground in deathly silent and formed a smooth curtain over the ground.

Rifles roared and a shower of bullets passed through me and ricocheted off tree trunks. I turned around to catch a glimpse of a golden light taking cover behind a shrub. The man trying to dodge the bullets is the one I'm here for. I took after the man with the golden hue, dodging bullets from soldiers in M40 black leather trench coats, the Red Nazi symbols glowing in the moonlight.

The man knew the deciduous forest well for he found shelter in a cave hidden from sight by a large snow covered boulder. The German soldiers looked around for a while and finally vacated the area in frustration. The man with the golden hue wore torn trousers and a dilapidated prison shirt, he had a shaved head and a skeletal body. His face, all skin and bones, wore an expression of agony and his burning eyes inside deep trenches, told me nightmarish tales of grief. He closed his eyes in prayer. 'Have mercy on me Abraham.' I stood petrified since my soul was trapped in the body of a Jew in Nazi Germany!

He walked fast, dodging the foliage, shivering in the snow, barefooted. The snow descending at a melancholy pace would cover his tracks. I followed suit and we came to a clearing right on the edge of an elevated land. I saw rows of long single storied constructions similar to horse stables. The man with me, jumped off the ledge and took cover behind another boulder evading marauding searchlights from towers stationed at four corners of the facility. He then runs and jumps headfirst through a hole cut out through barbed wire fencing. Only he, with his skeletal frame could pass through the hole, one that wouldn't be easily visible to the guards. Crouching close to the ground, he vanished into the darkness, presumably towards those constructions. My blood curdled as my eyes fell on a signboard nearby. "Concentration camp, Auschwitz", now in Poland, then in a province ruled by the Fuhrer.

The scenery around me vanishes as I land in what appears to be a felicitation ceremony. The man with the golden light now sits on a chair, facing the podium. He looks healthy and his bearded face is plump and cheerful. His physique and appearance shouts out army veteran. The face I saw earlier at Auschwitz could never conjure up the smile this man has on his face, like his life has been hit by a tornado at some point of time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, with a warm round of applause, please welcome veteran Abdiel Brahm, leader of the 300 strong Jewish regiment of the army of Finland! Without his outstanding contributions, we wouldn't have witnessed the end to the winter wars!" The orator reads as the hall breaks in applause. Abdiel Brahm, so that's who I am in this life!

He walks up to the podium and speaks with a husky voice laced with emotions, those of pride, triumph, relief and gratitude.

"It has been a hectic few years for our great nation. I am honored......."

His words swayed away in a deafening explosion. Rubble flew off like shells and masked assassins sprayed bullets like a dime a dozen. Abdiel took cover behind the wooden podium. I stood rooted to my spot, an invisible and transparent figure, immune to the emissaries of death. After what felt like an eternity, the semi-automatics stopped in unison and dust settled on the carnage as silence drew curtains over the destruction. Handful of survivors rushed out from their hiding spots and started unearthing bodies from beneath the rubble, afraid to face their worst nightmares. Abdiel Brahm, petrified and paralyzed, had his eyes fixed on a spot where the roof had fallen. Rummaging through debris like a man possessed, he unearthed the body of a woman and a little girl, barely five years old. He fell to his knees, knocked out of breath, too overwhelmed to shed tears. The man had just lost his wife and daughter to a terrorist attack while I had stood in observation, mouthing inaudible expletives to the world. The destruction around me started to disappear as Abdiel pulled his dead daughter to his hurt and screamed like a wounded tiger.