InsaneJournal

Saul felt thoroughly pleased with himself as he walked home on the cold winter evening of 22 December alongside Miriam Maksimov, the prettiest girl in Cheetham Hill. He still had some money saved up from working in his father’s apothecary all summer, so he took Miriam out to the movies to see The Thief of Bagdad. He impressed her with his “fiscal independence”, and she impressed him with what she could do with her lips in the back of the dark, crowded theater.

“Where is that place again that you disappear to every September, Saul?” Miriam asked him as they crossed the street.

There it was- the classic question. The Goldstein family had invented a school long ago when Saul’s father had first been accepted to Hogwarts to answer this exact question. Good old Winthrop College in the little town of Axbridge, Somerset.

“Winthrop College,” Saul replied casually. This was a lie he told so many times that he didn’t even flinch.

“Where’s that?” Miriam asked.

“Axbridge, it’s in Somerset,” he told her.

“Huh, never heard of it.”

“It’s a small town, great school though,” Saul said.

“Really?” Miriam asked. The idea of going to school anywhere outside of Manchester was so strange to Miriam. All the kids from the neighborhood went to school together, except Saul and Jacob. It was so unusual, but it made Saul so much more interesting. He must know so many different people outside of their little corner of the world,“What kind of boys do you go to school with?”.

Saul paused and immediately thought of Rupert, John, Brutus, and Billius, but they didn’t go to “Winthrop” (no one went to Winthrop). What kind of kids would go to Winthrop College? Well, Saul guessed that was obvious- rich kids. “Some of them are a bunch of rich pricks,” he told her. “We’ve got a Lord Charles who thinks he rules the world,” Saul explained, only guessing that ‘Lord’ would be the proper title for some royal teenager or whatever. “But there are some ace blokes there who I’m friends with,” he told her. “They’re different, but they’re good people and a load of fun,” Saul explained, which he figured could apply to his friends at Hogwarts, so it was only half of a lie.

“Wow,” Miriam said. “How did you get into Winthrop?” she asked.

Good question. Thankfully, they’d invented an answer for that too. Not many young boys from Cheetham went off to British boarding schools, after all, which was probably a good thing or else they might know Winthrop didn’t exist. “My uncle teaches French there, so they let my brother and I go for free since we’re family.”

“I’d love to learn French,” Miriam said.

“Parlay voos fransay,” Saul raised his eyebrows as if he knew what he was saying.

“You speak French?” Miriam asked in amazement.

“Oh yeah, of course, my uncle taught me. I’m fluent,” he told her.

Miriam giggled, “You’re really something, Saul,” she told him.

Saul grinned and pushed a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear as they stopped in front of her house. “I think you’re pretty great yourself, Miriam,” he told her. “I’ll be here until after New Year’s, I’d love to take you out again,” he said.

Miriam blushed, “I’d like that,” she said.

“Your dad won’t be watching, right?” Saul asked as he glanced up at her window where he could see a light on.

“Oh no, he’s not like that,” she said.

With that reassurance, Saul leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Miriam Maksimov smelt like strawberries.

“Good night, Miriam,” he said.

“Good night, Saul,” Miriam smiled and then hurried up the stairs to her front door. She waved goodbye to Saul as she closed the door and walked inside.

Saul broke into a wide grin as Miriam disappeared behind the door. He shoved his hands into his pockets and darted across the street and turned the corner to his house. Saul opened the door in high spirits, where he found his father listening to the radio and reading the newspaper and Jacob sprawled on the floor, sleeping with his face pressed against his Transfiguration book.

“Is that Saul?” Mrs Goldstein called into the living room.

Mr Goldstein looked up from his paper, “Looks like him!” he called back. Mrs Goldstein walked in, gripping a duster in her right hand. She had launched a cleaning attack on the house in preparation for Chanukah in two days.

“Well, how was the movie? How’s Miriam?” she asked.

Saul grinned, “Good, very good, we had a great time. Think I might ask her out again.”

“Oh, well, she is a very nice girl, very pretty, good fam-“ Mrs Goldstein was about to finish, when the radio suddenly broke into static and a few moments later, the sound of the air raid siren tore through the air. Mr Goldstein shut off the radio and dropped the paper. Jacob jumped up from where he’d been sleeping on the floor.

“Daniel…” Mrs Goldstein gasped, terrified.

Mr Goldstein walked over to the window and looked outside. Almost immediately after, the sound of guns thundering overhead nearly overpowered the sound of the siren. Saul peered over his father’s shoulder and could see the flashes of ominous light in the night sky above.

“Everyone down in the basement, now,” Mr Goldstein ordered urgently.

Saul immediately followed Jacob and his mother down into the basement as his father waved his wand and suddenly all the lights in the living room and kitchen went out. Saul felt the familiar feeling of dread that had overcome him so often in the summer, but Saul knew what to do. They had to go underground and thankfully their basement was deep enough to keep them all safe without having to rush to a shelter. When the siren first sounded, Saul felt numb to it. The reality of what was happening so unexpectedly didn’t sink in until his father closed the door behind him and they were consumed by darkness. Then the thought that they might not come out of this dark basement crept into his mind.

“Lumos maxima,” Mr Goldstein uttered as he descended the stairs, and suddenly the basement was full of light from his wand. Saul could now see the terrified faces of his mother and younger brother, and he wondered what he looked like. Saul tried to look calm as the rumbling from the guns became louder in the sky above.

He scrunched his face up, trying to look strong and indifferent as he asked his father, “Those are just the guns, right? No bombs?”

Mr Goldstein only shook his head. I don’t know.

They sat in silence for what felt like a long while as the sound of the shooting overhead only intensified. Saul could hear the roaring engine of a plane. First it was loud, then it became more distant, until finally they heard it- an explosion off in the distance. The first bomb had been dropped somewhere in Manchester, close enough that the ceiling above them shuddered slightly. Saul felt sick. He knew that wouldn’t be the last one, and they had to be close. Would they keep moving away or would they come over Cheetham? Could they really be so lucky to not be hit again?

Mrs Goldstein began to sob as the sound of more explosions could be heard in the distance. “I should have made you boys stay at school. I knew, I knew…oh God, help us.” Mr Goldstein wrapped his arm around his wife and kissed her on the head.

“Don’t cry, Mum…we wanted to come home,” Jacob said weakly. Saul watched his mother for a moment and then looked away. Even now, Saul wouldn’t have wanted to be in school. If they were going to be bombed, he’d rather be together than separated. It would be torture to be stuck at Hogwarts, knowing that Manchester was bombed, and having to wait to find out what had happened to his family.

But wasn’t torture better than death?

Saul shook his head slightly. It was better that they were together.

Another bomb exploded, and Saul could tell this one was closer. It sounded closer, and this time a bit of plaster shook from the basement ceiling. Saul inhaled sharply. That meant they were moving closer. The best they could hope for was that one wouldn’t land directly on Cheetham Hill. Saul felt certain they would fly over this part of Manchester, but he didn’t feel certain at all that they wouldn’t be hit. His mother started to pray softly and his father joined her.

“Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear,” Saul joined them, “though war should rise up against me, even then will I be confident,” he said. Saul tried to feel confident, but he didn’t. I’m sixteen years old, and this may very well be the night I die. He knew thinking things like that didn’t help, but what else could he think about? Saul thought about his life and realized that he’d never really done anything, and if a bomb landed on his house tonight, he never would. Saul was born, he made friends, he went to Hogwarts, he made his bar mitzvah, he worked in the apothecary, he kissed a few girls, and really, that was it. That was all he’d really done, and up until now, it had been enough. It was enough until there was the potential that there might be nothing else. If he died tonight, he would never have a job or a wife or a family…he’d never see his friends again, never go back to Hogwarts. The train would leave and he wouldn’t be on it, and soon enough everyone would notice, and eventually they would realize what happened. Maybe Rupert or someone else who pays attention to the war would figure it out, and that would be it. Saul would never have sex, never even kiss a girl again, never smell Miriam’s strawberry hair, he wouldn’t even do the things he’d been dreading, like taking his O.W.L.’s and having to figure out what he wanted to do after Hogwarts.

The more Saul thought about these things, the more panicked he felt. He felt anxious and afraid and he wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. This basement was the best they could do. This was as safe as they could get.

They were trapped. They were completely at the mercy of chance.

After nearly an hour and a half, there was an explosion like none of the others before. The sound was like nothing Saul could have imagined. It was so loud, but loud wasn’t even really the word for it. Immediately Saul’s ears rang as if something had exploded inside of them too. He covered them with his hands, and saw his parents and brother clasp their hands to their ears too. Saul could see his mother crying hysterically, but he couldn’t hear her. Everything was muffled, even the rumbling overhead, everything but the loud ringing in his ears. He didn’t need to hear it though, Saul could feel the earth shaking. He could see the plaster in the ceiling falling, the cracks forming in the cement. Everything quaked, like the entire world was going to collapse. Saul could hear the now dull sound of another explosion nearby and everything shook even more violently. Although it was difficult to hear, there was no mistaking the sound of something collapsing overhead and they all looked up.

Saul knew they must all be thinking the same thing- they knew they’d been hit. A bomb may have dropped right in the middle of the street…maybe on one of their friends’ homes, and if a third one hit them close enough…if the basement ceiling collapsed, they’d be gone.

Mr Goldstein beckoned the four of them to move towards the furthest corner of the basement, away from anything that might hit them from overhead. Saul crouched down low as he walked over, and he was surprised at how much his legs shook under him. His mother pulled him down close to her, and wrapped her other arm around Jacob, covering both of their heads with her hands. Saul allowed himself to feel small, and he didn’t fight his mother’s embrace. For a moment, he met his brother’s eyes. Jacob’s face was blank, terrified, and Saul could offer him no look of comfort. Mr Goldstein gripped his wife’s shoulder, and they waited like that through the night.

***

The siren finally sounded the next morning, signifying the end of the raid. Saul looked over at his parents, who tentatively rose to their feet. Saul felt uncertain, was it really over? Had they made it? Saul followed his father up the stairs, but Mr Goldstein held out his arm before he reached the door.

“Wait here,” he told him, but Saul caught a glimpse of the destruction through the door before his father closed it. The walls on either side of Saul were cracked from the impact, and even the stairs felt less sturdy. Mr Goldstein returned through the door, a look of exhausted devastation hung over his face, but he kept his voice steady as he spoke.

“It’s…safe,” Mr Goldstein said hesitantly and Saul cautiously walked through the door.

The living room was almost unrecognizable. Furniture had been knocked over, lamps, pictures, vases, dishes all shattered on the ground. Everything was a mess, but Saul hadn’t seen the worst of it until he turned his head. Saul felt his mouth drop open as he looked over into the kitchen and saw a gapping hole. Saul heard his mother gasp behind him as he walked closer into the kitchen. It was a mess of rubble; Saul could hardly recognize anything but the floor below him. Their table, chairs, china cabinet, everything was crushed by rubble, and then Saul saw it with his own eyes. The right side of his house was completely gone, and the Pasternack’s home was completely destroyed.

Saul wandered out onto the street. He heard his mother call for him to come back, but Saul couldn’t keep from moving forward in bewilderment. He could hardly believe his eyes, nearly everything was in ruins. The streets and houses of his childhood were cracked and crumbling from the impact of last night’s bombs. Everything was torn a part, there was rubble everywhere, and he saw other familiar faces wandering through the streets in horrified amazement. This no longer looked like somewhere inhabitable; Saul couldn’t believe what he saw. He barely recognized anything.

He slowly crossed the street and turned the corner. His feet carried him to the Maksimov’s, but there was nothing to see but a pile of rubble. Their house was one of the homes that had been destroyed completely. Saul backed away from it in terror- this was the destruction of the streets, of the houses, but how many had died? How many of the kids he had grown up with were gone? How many of his parents’ friends? The people he went to synagogue with, who he saw in the stores, crossing the street…Saul knew them all, and now he knew there was no way they’d all survived.

So what made him so lucky?