pulled out a handful of old drawings, done in pencil, and flipped through them. She pulled one out.
“There is one sketch she drew that I thought of instantly when I first set eyes on you.” The penciled sketch, on notebook paper tinged with the yellow of time, showed the face of a young man that was a near perfect mirror image of Wayne’s face. It was a crude drawing, but not without artistic merit. On the top of the page, letters had been scribbled in a sloppy handwriting that formed the words: THE SAVIOR.
Wayne looked at the sketch, but wasn’t impressed, “I’ll admit it; that’s quite a coincidence.”
“I don’t think it is a coincidence,” Linda said defensively. “My mother was positive that a man who she had seen in a vision — a man who would look like this — would one day come along and change the world for the better. And I think that the man in this picture is you, Wayne. And when you told me your story, it all made sense to me. You are here for a reason, Wayne Goldberg.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he shrugged. “I do know that I’m exhausted, though, and I need to get some sleep.” He sprawled his body out on the well-worn mattress, “It’s not exactly the Hilton, but it’ll have to do.” He shut his eyes.
Linda turned off the kerosene lamp and laid down on the mattress beside Wayne and ran her fingers gently over her guest’s forehead, “Wayne, what is a pimp?”
Wayne opened his eyes, surprised by the question. “Why do you ask?”
“You said something about a pimp on the plane. I’ve never hear the word before.”
“It’s a, well, a…” Wayne fumbled for words, “a type of person, in a way. A sleazy type of person.”
“Do you know any of these kind of persons?” Linda asked.
Wayne chuckled, “Me? No, I don’t know any pimps.”
“You are a very handsome man, Wayne,” she said as she continued to stroke Wayne’s forehead and hair.
“Uh, thanks,” he responded to be nice.
“You were in Hollenburg a long time. Did you miss being with a woman?”
“A certain woman, yes.”
“That Lauren you told me about?”
“That’s the one.”
“Lauren isn’t here,” Linda whispered tenderly in his ear, “She might not be in this world at all.”
“I guess not,” Wayne answered.
Linda moved her hand from his forehead and began to stroke his thigh. “So why don’t we make the best of the situation?” She kissed Wayne lightly and affectionately on the lips.
“I am very flattered, Linda — and tempted,” Wayne said mildly. “But I can’t. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the lab and undo all this mess. It would feel too much like cheating.”
“Ah. Okay.” She abruptly stood up.
“You have to understand…”
Linda didn’t want to hear it, “Shut up and go to sleep.”
Wayne sighed and rolled over.
The train tracks of the former New York Metropolitan Transit Authority hibernated throughout the night, in their perpetual silence, like two huge dead snakes, the same way they had been for forty-eight years.
Wayne, after sleeping uninterrupted for half a day, awoke to the sight of Linda reading a book on her makeshift couch. It was a tattered hard-covered copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s
“How long have I been asleep?” Wayne asked.
“I don’t know. A while?” Linda kept her eyes fixed on her novel. Rejection never was easy for a person to have to handle.
“That is one of my favorite books too,” he said as he stood up and stretched. Other than the pain in his arm, he actually felt pretty good. He hadn’t been this rested in weeks.
Linda looked at Wayne and stated, “I have never in my life heard somebody snore as loudly as you.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” Wayne said. “Can you get me to the Center of Aryan Studies?”
Linda sighed, “I think so. It’s possible from down here.”
“Are you ready to go now?” Wayne asked, not wanting to waste time.
“It amazes me how people used to live,” she said and put the book down.
“Not all people,” Wayne added, “just some.”
Linda stood up, “How’s the shoulder doing?”
“Sore, but okay. Linda, I’m sorry about last night,” Wayne apologized, “I just can’t do that to Lauren.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she hesitated. “Come on.”
They journeyed through the maze of railroad tracks and twisted wreckage of platforms, trains, and ticket booths. Wayne recognized some of the grim sights as ones he had seen on the previous day. He paused briefly to take a cleaner pair of jeans and a button down shirt from a silent train passenger. After forty minutes of moving, Wayne stopped at the beginning of a long sewage tunnel. At the far end of it, a small glimmer of light from the outside world was visible.
“I’m going to take it solo from here,” Wayne said.
“Why?”
“Linda, you helped me more than I could ever have hoped. I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But it will be less risky for both of us if I finish what I need to do alone. I hope you understand.”
“I will miss you, Wayne.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Wayne said. “Remember, Linda, soon your life will change dramatically for the better and you will have no memory of being here. You’ll be married to some wonderful guy and you’ll be very happy.”
“That sounds nice.”
Wayne hugged Linda, “You take care of yourself, okay?”
Linda’s eyes teared up, “I will. I promise.”
Wayne planted a kiss on her cheek, “Goodbye.”
Linda watched as he walked away from her, towards the glimmer of light.
New Berlin City was covered with swastika banners, parade decorations and confetti. The streets were crowded with its Aryan citizens, all of who were dressed in some type of official Nazi garb
Wayne walked quickly across a street, careful to avoid making eye contact with anybody, and into a back service alley. He looked at the large plastic bags and boxes full of garbage waiting to be hauled off by the trash collector. On top of one of the big boxes was a large brimmed straw hat. It had seen better days, but was still wearable. Wayne grabbed the hat, dusted it off with his hands, and put it on his head. He continued walking through the alley and entered
On any given weekend, one could watch many different city adult and youth soccer teams practice their skills in the
Wayne began to make his way towards the school. He noticed two Gestapo men walking towards him. He swiftly turned his head and pretended to be browsing in the window of a consumer electronics outlet. What he saw caught his eye.
A row of color televisions synchronously broadcast the same cartoon of a baseball team, each member dressed in a Nazi athletic uniform ready to play a ballgame. A player stepped up to the plate. But wait, he had no bat — and he could not find one! The player, drawn as a muscular, blond haired, blue-eyed type of Super Nazi, whistled to his Dog, a big German shepherd. The Super Nazi enacted a swinging motion, as if swinging a bat, with his strong arms. The loyal canine animal saluted his master and raced off. The Dog spotted what was obviously a caricature of an old Jewish man, with exaggerated Semitic features that included an oblong nose and Yiddish garb, which consisted of a yarmulke, flowing black robe, and sandals. The loyal Nazi Dog ferociously chased the man — only the Dog was running like a man on its hind legs, and the man like an animal on all fours. They passed a squirrel munching on an acorn, who held his nose as the Jewish man trotted by. They passed a truck with the words “CITY
