We Are Only Ghosts by Jeffrey L. Richards

Author:Jeffrey L. Richards [Richards, Jeffrey L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2023-12-27T00:00:00+00:00

24

As the tattoo needle digs into the flesh of his left forearm, Karel holds his breath. In isolated blocks the number appears like a manifested ghost, then dulls instantly as his skin drinks in the black ink. A moment later, blood seeps to the surface, blurring his new identification.

After the induction process, Karel and Alexej are herded with the rest of the new prisoners to the men’s camp.

“You two, in there!” a guard shouts and jabs the butt of his rifle into the small of Karel’s back, causing him and Alexej to stumble out of the line. The guard laughs as Karel scrambles to keep Alexej from falling.

“You want me to get rid of that for you?” the guard taunts.

Karel doesn’t respond, hurrying Alexej into the barracks and out of sight. They step into a room filled with row upon row of wooden shelves stacked four deep, a room that looks more like a storage room than a place to live. Adjusting to the light, Karel squirrels his father into an open space and tucks him tight against the wall. He climbs in next to him.

The other prisoners, some so thin and frail Karel doesn’t know if they are real or lingering apparitions, cast vague stares in their direction. Karel glares back, defiance setting his jaw. Most are too frail to be of any threat, but Karel does not want trouble.

In the dim light, Karel wipes at the tattoo, and his palm comes away with smears of ink and blood. He looks at his number. This is who he is now. He compares his tattoo to his father’s—one number off. He assumes his mother and sisters are in the same sequential line, and so they are all linked not only by blood but now also by ink. He glances at the other prisoners. If the Nazis’ numbering system proceeds sequentially, everyone in the camp, past, present, and future, is connected, members of a newly created tribe.

His father groans in delirium, which then devolves into a hacking cough.

Someone yells, possibly in French, a language Karel does not understand, but the message is clearly in protest of the noise his father makes. Karel hushes his father, pulling him to his body, cradling his freshly shaved head to his chest to muffle the noise. He suspects his father will not survive the night. The transport to the camp and the brutal induction process have been too much for his weak body. In the depths of his mind, he wonders why his father even continues to survive.

“We’ll be fine, Papa,” Karel whispers. “You’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine, no matter what happens.”

Come the dawn, Alexej still lives. Another prisoner, a fellow Czech, barely alive himself, helps Karel carry his father out for morning roll call. Together they hold the body up to look as alive as possible as the guards offer a hollow recitation of numbers.

“He won’t last much longer,” the man says as they return Alexej to the barracks.

Karel does not respond, unwilling to betray his father out loud.

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