Change in Plans Read online

  Copyright © 2018 Meagan Fink

  Printed in the United States of America.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including storage and retrieval systems- except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews- without permission in writing from its publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-54397-681-6 (print)

  ISBN: 978-1-54397-682-3 (ebook)

  To all of the friends and family

  That have supported me through

  It all. This is for you.

  Contents

  1

  Germany 1940

  2

  New York 1944

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  Epilogue

  1

  Germany 1940

  She awoke to the sound of screaming. Tita’s eyes snapped open as the entire house shook, threatening to cave in on her. She jumped out of her bed and looked out her bedroom window. The sight was a nightmare.

  The sky looked to be on fire with large metal birds that seemed to scream at her. She staggered backward and ran to her little brother’s bed and shook him awake.

  “Dyton, get up!” she said, a quaver in her voice.

  “What?” he asked confused, as he rubbed his eyes. He sat up and looked out the window; his eyes go wide and then fill up with tears.

  “Tita!” he yelled, and holds his small arms out to her. She grabbed him and hugged him to her not knowing what to do. The belly of a metal bird then opened and something fell out. As soon as it hit the ground an explosion ripped through the earth, the house shaking yet again.

  “Tita! Th-they’re getting c-c-closer!” he yelled into her ear, his stutter making his words hard to understand. Dyton buried his face into her neck, his cheeks wet with tears.

  The door to their room flew open, causing Tita to jump and give a small shriek.

  Emily comes running in and grabs Dyton from Tita and then takes her hand.

  “We need to go, now,” she says, fear plastered on her face.

  They run down the stairs as quickly as they can while still keeping a firm grip on the railing. Another bomb crashes to earth that makes the house shake so violently that its foundation starts to crack.

  “Run Tita!” yelled Emily, giving her a shove to get her to move faster. Tita was crying now as she heard more and more people screaming, crying out in agony for someone to help them.

  And then a bomb landed on their street.

  The house explodes, brick and roof shingles flying through the air like torpedoes. An invisible force knocks Tita to the ground. Her ears were ringing, her body beaten and bruised, she looked around and saw only dust and fire. A cough racked through her entire body as she pulled rubble off of her.

  “Mama?” she asked, glancing around. The house was broken in half, the bricks now on the ground and still some that seemed to fall from the sky.

  “Mama!” she cried. She stood up on shaky feet.

  “Mama!” she wailed.

  Then a figure appeared in front of her coming closer. Emily ran to her and picked her up lifting her from the rubble. They all ran down into their bomb shelter and latched the door behind them, hopefully blocking out the screams of the afflicted.

  Tita and Dyton clung to their mother and kept their eyes shut as their mother cowered over them, clutching them to her. They shook uncontrollably as the next bomb came crashing down, even though the sound of the explosions started getting quieter as the planes above moved on.

  The small lantern suspended in the middle of the ceiling swayed back and forth until the flame finally went out, again. Their mother pried them off and got up to relight it.

  “Mama, where do they get all the bombs?” asked Tita, as she tried to comfort Dyton.

  She looked in the general direction she thought her mother stood. It had been hard enough to see through the dust filled air, but now with the light gone it made it virtually impossible.

  Her mother’s face becomes illuminated as she lit the match, causing her eyes to look like black pits and an eerie feeling to fall over the room. She lit the lantern once again and sat down next to the two of them.

  “From bad people,” Mother said, stroking some of Tita’s brown hair out of her face.

  “Why do the good people let the bad people be bad?” Tita asked.

  Emily looked her in the eyes and tilted her head to the side, such a simple question yet so hard to answer.

  “Well, if the good people tried to stop the bad people from being bad, then the people who were good originally wouldn’t be considered special when everyone else is good,” said Emily.

  Tita blinked not understanding. Emily realized that there was no possible way to explain the wretchedness of war to a 12 year-old, so she tried to make it simpler.

  “If good people told bad people to be nice, then everyone would be nice, then the people who were nice before wouldn’t be special,” Emily said.

  “Oh,” said Tita.

  “Well off to bed you two, we’ll see if it’s okay to go up tomorrow,” Emily said encouragingly.

  “It won’t,” said Tita sadly.

  “Well, with a little faith anything can happen,” assured Emily. Tita and Dyton walked to their bed and got in.

  “Good night,” said Emily as she kissed them both on the head. “Night,” they said in response. Their mother walked over to the middle of the room and blew out the flame. They both listened to her footsteps until she got into her twin bed wedged in a corner. They wait till the squeaking bed frame goes silent, which is then accompanied by the soft breath of sleep.

  Tita rolled onto her back and listened to each bomb go off destroying Germany. The sound’s almost comforting lulling her to sleep; just as long as you don’t think of the receiving end.

  Tita woke up to the sound of crying. Dyton. She turned over in the bunk and saw her mother cradling him, sitting on her bed. Tears stained his cheeks and his eyes were puffy and red, a look of terror across his face. Tita got up and slowly walked over.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked Emily. Dyton started to whimper and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. Her mother mouthed the words “bad dream” and held him out to Tita.

  “I need to get breakfast,” her mother said.

  Tita took her little brother and started to rock him making soothing sounds.

  “Shh, it’s okay, it was just a dream,” Tita said gently.

  “N-no it wasn’t. D-d-daddy is actually gone, not just a d-d- dream!” he cried, his stutter getting worse the more upset he got.

  Tita cringed not knowing how to respond when Emily brings them two bowls of oatmeal. “Eat up,” she said, trying to give an encouraging smile but failing.

  “So Tatiana, maybe you could work on your art today,” offered Emily, breaking the silence. They all sit at the round table that is wedged into a corner next to the small kitchen. “Yes, I could,” Tita said, as she stuck an
other spoonful of bland goop into her mouth. It could have been just her imagination but it smelled like feet to her.

  “And Dyton maybe you could play with---” Emily was cut off by a loud banging coming from the hatch of their shelter. Tita and Dyton both jerk their heads in the direction of the noise; the banging stopped only to be replaced by a voice.

  “Listen up traitor! It’s Ace. Open up now or we’re forcing ourselves in!” the voice boomed. Emily’s eyes widened in fear, and she stumbled out of her chair and grabbed them both by the arms lifting them up.

  “Tita, clean up the bowls, just throw them in the cupboard. Dyton you see that board over there under the desk? Slide it out and get in,” said Emily, as she pushed Dyton over to the desk. Tita briskly took the bowls to the cupboard and threw them in. She just finishes closing the door when her mother grabs her by the arm and hastily pulls her over to the desk.

  “Is it the soldiers?” asked Tita, glancing nervously at the doors.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s something much worse,” whispered Emily.

  Tita watched as her mother undid the clasp to her locket that Daddy had given to her for their anniversary. She took the locket and draped it around Tita’s neck.

  “Tita, listen to me, there’s something your father and I were supposed to tell you, but I won’t be able to now but you need to know.

  “You have a grandfather that lives in America. The last time I heard from him he was living in Tallahassee, Florida, West Pollis Drive, his name is Greg Blackson. You don’t remember him because you only met when you were a baby, but he will help you. Okay? Remember that, Tallahassee, Florida, West Pollis Drive. Some bad people are going to try and find you, Tatiana. Read what’s inside here.” Emily held up the locket around Tita’s neck. One side of it was smooth silver and the other had a raised elegant pattern of swirls.

  “It’ll only explain some things, your grandfather will have to explain the rest. No matter what you do, ---” there was another banging on the door, “stay safe, stay quiet, and stay together. Whatever you learn about your father and I, what we did, who we were, just remember that I love you.” Emily gave her daughter a quick embrace, kissed her on the forehead, and then pushed her down into the tunnel.

  Emily blew a kiss to both of them, “Go to the end of the tunnel and don’t turn back, there will be things in a bag at the end.” She then slid the board back into place and darkness suddenly engulfed them.

  Tita held onto Dyton not knowing what to do. They couldn’t just leave their mother to those people, whoever they were. Tita looked back to see that the tunnel went about fifteen feet and then turned, a dim light illuminating the end. With one arm around Dyton and her other hand rubbing the smooth pattern on the locket, she slowly leaned forward propelled by curiosity; she put her hand on the wooden plank that separated them from their mother. Tita felt Dyton move, and she looked down to see him shaking his head vigorously.

  “Don’t d-do it,” he whispered. She looked away from him and back at the plank.

  There was a loud bang followed by footsteps causing them both to jump as yelling reached their ears. Tita looks back down at Dyton.

  “Go to the very end of the tunnel but don’t leave. Be very quiet,” she whispered. She could barely make out the silhouette of her shaking brother as he started crawling to the end.

  Tita turned her attention back to the wood plank; she put her hand back on it and slowly slid it away.

  An inch of light shined through the tunnel illuminating the dust in the air; Tita put an eye to the opening and looked through. What she saw took her breath away. There were seven men crowding the small shelter and a boy who was facing away from her. They weren’t soldiers as she had thought. They all wore tattered clothing; each shirt had an unfamiliar insignia sewn onto the pocket. They all carried assault rifles, some had them over their shoulders and others held them at the ready. They roamed around the room knocking things over and stuffing her family’s belongings into their bags.

  A tall man was the last to enter the shelter, he was better dressed than the others and was unarmed as far as she could see. He walked over to her mother and glared.

  “Hello Emily, it’s good to see you again,” he said, with a smile that sent a chill down Tita’s spine. The man looked around trying to find something; but when he didn’t see it, his eyes turned even colder.

  “Where are they?” he asked her.

  “Who?” Emily’s voice was surprisingly steady.

  “Don’t play games with me! Your children!” he yelled at her. The man walked over to Tita’s bunk and rubbed the blanket between his fingers.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, John and I never had children.” Emily cast a quick glance at the bags under their bed.

  “If you and John never had children, then who slept in this bed? Whose bags are these under the bed?” he asks innocently. “Please tell me Emily, I really do wish to know.”

  He was too calm. Something about this man wasn’t right, Tita just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Emily hesitates for only a moment before saying, “They are the bags of a mother and her toddler. Their home was destroyed by the bombings so I lent out the extra bed.” The answer in itself was convincing but the slight hesitation exposed her. The man sighs deeply. He sat down on the bunk and rests his head in his hand; his expression is pained as if he really doesn’t understand why she was lying to him, as if it was a personal letdown.

  “Emily, why do you make things so complicated?” he asked exasperated.

  “Ace, why are you still doing this? You aren’t under Victor’s command anymore,” she says, trying to reason with him.

  “I don’t want your pity, woman!” he suddenly screams. Tita flinches as do all of the other men in the room. “I am not doing these things because of my father, I am the leader and I give the commands!” he says, as he stands up from the bed and walks a few steps away from Emily.

  He pulled out a gun from the waist of his pants and pointed it at her head. Emily takes a deep breath, yet she doesn’t seem surprised.

  “You knew this was coming Emily. After your family’s betrayal, it was just a matter of time before we finished you all off. So for the last time, where are they?” he asked. The anger had left him as quickly as it had come, he was now back to business. The most disturbing thing about the man was that he just seemed annoyed that it was taking so long to kill her. Tita could now put her finger on what was off about him, he was unstable. One moment he was perfectly calm, and the next he wanted to kill everyone.

  “I’ll never tell you,” she says, with a venom in her voice.

  “That’s all right, we killed your husband, we’ll kill you, and then I personally will kill your children.”

  What are they talking about; they’re the ones that killed Daddy? But he died in the war. She looked around at the surrounding men when her eyes landed on the boy.

  Tita looked up at his face; his eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. He was staring at something in her direction, through a long lock of red hair, when she realized that what he was staring at was her. Her eyes widened at the realization; and she quickly put a finger over her lips, begging him to be quiet.

  He continued to look at her, then at the man, and then once again his look rested on her. She looks him in the eyes, begging him not to give her up. He gave a small smile, nodded, and then looked back at the man and so did she.

  Tita looks at her mother wondering why she doesn’t do something. She could scream, she could run away, but she just stands there. The man looks at his men and mutters to search the rest of the bunker. While the man has his attention away from Emily, she glances at the desk and sees Tita. Her lips form a tight line and a single tear falls from Emily’s eye.

  The man turns back to her and levels the gun at her forehead, “We will find them, Emily.”

  “Perhaps it is
better for the child to turn away,” she says, glancing at the young boy but then her gaze shifts to Tita. The man looks at the boy, “Turn around,” he mutters.

  Tita squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the sound of the gunshot. She quickly closed the board and looked down at her hands. She rocked back and forth as she started to rub the surface of the locket frantically, trying to calm down. Then she saw a tear splatter on the smooth surface, as her entire world was shattered.

  2

  New York 1944

  Tita stares out over the market searching the crowd for Dyton and her eyes finally find him weaving through the crowd of people. She waits patiently for him to give the signal. She looks down at her hands to see them rubbing her locket, what has now become a nervous habit.

  She leans against a tall oak tree playing with the silver chain and watches as he walks up to a random tent. But then she takes a better look, not just any random marketer. This one has everything: food, supplies, trinkets, and even jewelry. Dyton then gives her the first sign. He brushes some imaginary dust off his jacket and then looks in her direction. She gives a small nod and then slowly makes her way over to the tent.

  Tita lets her gaze wander to the merchandise displayed. One of the merchants looks at her and smiles. He then holds up a necklace with a ruby in the center the size of her thumb. He raises his eyebrows, buy? She gives a shy grin and shakes her head but she walks over. Dyton can wait, she really wants that necklace.

  The merchant gives a wry grin. He knows how to get people to buy and that requires keeping the merchandise in sight. He places the necklace down on the counter and then offers a different necklace with a same-sized emerald. She raises her eyebrows, yes, so he smiles and leans forward to wrap it around her neck. As he does, she reaches and grabs the ruby necklace and stashes it into her small bag strapped to her hip. He produces a mirror and she takes a look. I look good, she thinks. but even so she frowns. The man gets a worried look. She shakes her head, no deal. He raises his eyebrows, are you positive? She shakes her head again and then takes off the necklace. She offers an apologetic smile and then walks away.