In the arms of golden grass

I unfurled the rough beef sandwich. I felt the crust with my finger. it was cold. the way I liked it. I sniffed the bread. the beef aroma filled my nostrils. it smelt terribly of home. and mama. tears started to bubble in my eyes. 

"are you ok?"

it was a boy two seats behind me. he had a sticky finger up his nose while sucking his upper lip. he seemed to be eyeing up my beef sandwich.

"go away" I hissed, hugging my beef sandwich of home.

"no need to be like that"

the boy pulled out his finger from his nose and wiped it, luxuriously, on a girl who was sitting beside him. she didn't seem to notice. Mr. Boweller, our observer on the train, looked up from his newspaper. his nose was like a stick, straight and pointy. his mustache sat below his interrupting nose that twisted like the trunk of a tree and, like us, he was a jew but, unlike us, he could pass as a British Senator.

"what are you doing out of your seat, boy?" he spat.

"I'm going to sit next to the girl...over there," the boy said, pointing a knowing grubby finger at me.

"hmmm" was all the reply that came from Mr. Boweller's mouth.

the boy started to squeeze past the gaggle of children on the train. some of the kids were sitting on the floor and some were leaning on the windows. I was glad that my mom dropped me early so I could have the best seats on the train. a prick of homesickness washed over me.

"oi! watch it!"

my head perked up. there was a sudden commotion on the train. 

it was the nose-picking boy again.

 he had thumped a boy for, purposely, being in his way. 

Mr.Boweller was shrieking at him. his voice was unusually high and shaky when he was telling the boy off.

"COME BACK HERE, LAD! DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME! BOY, I'M WARNING YOU!"

the boy sat, heavily, beside me. his mouth pinched and small. I crouched near the window, still hugging my beef sandwich.

the boy nudged me in the hip. 

"don't think you get your way by trying to ignore me. I'm josh, by the way, josh Turner"

I raised my eyebrows. I had never heard any jews called josh turner before.

the boy seemed to read my mind.

"I'm half American and half German-"

my eyes were wide. I tried covering my Jewish star.

the boy smiled, kindly, at me.

"my mom might be German but that doesn't mean she isn't Jewish"

his face fell.

" but she was taken to a concentration camp last week. my uncle brought me here"

I felt sorry for him. he needed a home more than I did.

he stared into my eyes.

"what about you? what is your name?"

I stared deep into my leather suitcase.

"you don't talk much do you?"

but you sure do talk a lot I thought

"what's that you're hiding?"

josh peered at my cupped hands. he beamed when he saw the sandwich.

"let's have a sniff then"

at first, I covered a protected arm over it but when I saw his eyes. they were full of trauma and sadness. I agreed, hesitantly, and passed the sandwich to josh. the boy grabbed it in excitement. he paused.

"want some?"

there was a sudden loud screech from the train. my ears panicked at the noise.

Mr. Boweller stood up, abruptly. his face was as pale as the talcum power that was quietly perched on my ma's dressing table.

"Everyone, get into the crates underneath your seats!"

josh dropped my beef sandwich on the train floor. a girl rushed by and squashed it.

my heart stopped at that moment. an umbrella of shock covered me.

it was my home. a single tear caressed my shivering cheek. it was like time had come to a standstill. I bent to touch it. something yanked me into a crate. our two muddy brown eyes met. it was josh. fresh tears spilled over my cheeks.

he looked bemused.

"what are you crying about?"

"my sandwich, my sandwich" I sobbed.

josh glared at me in alarm. he peeped through the crate.

“no” he mouthed.

I could hear a storm of marching boots step onto the train.

"so what are you doing on the train?"

the voice was low and authoritative. like the Germans.

butterflies started to ram at my stomach.

it had dawned on me. I was just a few steps away from a concentration camp and it was coming close.

please don't find the sandwich please don't find it. I thought.

"what's this?" another voice said.

I saw a hand pick up my sandwich from home. It was grubby and firm.

"no, no, no"

 sweat was peeling off of josh's brow.

there was a minute of deathly silence. The head soldier's hand shot out. Mr. Boweller was, roughly, cuffed by the neck. He made a blood-curdling gurgle that sent a chill down my spine.

"Are there children on this train...no, let me rephrase that. are there Jewish children on this train?"

Mr. Boweller trembled in his arms. The man squeezed tighter forcing the life out of him.

"n-no"

the German dropped him on the train and shot him. The echo of the bullet sailed through our ears.

"liar" he hissed. the soldier turned to his troops.

"search the place!"

I could hear tearing and tipping. and then screaming. A sound I wished I never heard.

"I found one! she was in the crate!"

"search all the crates!"

a hand was pushed through the crate I and josh were sitting in. josh gave out an ear-piercing scream as the german dragged him out of the crate. the other hand grabbed my hair and yanked me out.

"let go! let go!"

He hauled me towards the lone truck of darkness.

“no, please, let go! Let go!”

I enclosed my mouth over his finger.

“augh! Jews!” he hissed.

the soldier threw me, carelessly, on top of the other children.

Some of the other children screamed.

"where are we going?" a boy cried, holding his bruised hand to his cheek.

"to Auschwitz, where you filthy jews all belong" he spat.

darkness engulfed us as he shut the creaky doors.

I started to cry, heavy breathless sobs that racked my lungs.

“Please stop crying.”

I paused.

“Josh?” I squeaked.

The bold green eyes shone in the strangling darkness.

“do you still have the sandwich?”

A deep home-sick feeling fell like a weight in my gut.

“no” I replied in dismay.

Josh kicked the door with his foot.

“gosh, I can’t breathe in here. I hope we get to Auschwitz soon” he muttered.

“let’s hope not” a voice whispered, gravely, behind me.

I turned to face the voice. It was an old woman with a weak bundle in her arms.

“they’ll kill us there. I know it. I can feel it. We won’t survive.”

She stared at the baby with infirm, sorrowful eyes.

“I just want something more for the child”

josh rolled his sleeves, turning to the door. And kicked it.

The woman looked up in alarm.

“don’t do that, they’ll kill us now if they hear us”

her voice scared me. it was full of fear and fright. I grabbed josh's arm.

"you betta listen to her, josh"

"I'll listen when I'm free"

Josh carried on ignoring me as he gave the door an unsightly dent.

“kick harder”

Josh took a yawning breath. It was fathomless and fierce like the roaring waves of the Crystal Sea. 

His leg thrust forward and swung the iron doors open.

josh turned to the others.

"does anyone else want to come?"

there was a blinking silence.

Josh shrugged.

"your loss"

Josh grabbed my hand.

“let’s go”

My eyes sauntered at the moving horizon. A sense of fear bounced inside of me. I bent my knees.

“3…2…1…”

“WAIT!”

We paused in our tracks.

The old woman scooted towards us.

She held out the little bundle of joy.

“h-here. Take her. H-her name is rose. She won’t make any noise, I promise.” she wheezed.

My hands shook as she took her from the old woman’s arms.

Josh’s eyes were fixed on the horizon of freedom.

“you ready?” he asked.

I nodded, nervously, the baby cuddled in one arm.

“go!”

it came towards us like the swift wind of Hercules.

The ground rattled my lungs as I fell into contact with it. All I could see was a red ribbon of blood and darkness. My ears rang with the pain like the bell of eternity. I picked myself up and turned. The truck of hopelessness drove into the tunnel of darkness. the deep-sunken eyes taken into the depths of Auschwitz.

"come on, josh, let's go"

no reply. I frowned.

did he run off by himself?

I turned to look at josh. He was still. His eyes staring into space. Blood smeared on his face. his mouth opened like a gaping fish at sea. I touched his hand. It was cold and lifeless.

“josh” I whispered into his ear. "time to wake up"

He didn’t reply. He just stared into me.

"Please, stop doing that. you're giving me the creeps"

I shook him.

He didn’t reply.

I slapped him.

He didn’t flinch.

“JOSH! JOSH!” I shrieked.

He stared into me. His green eyes as dull as the rising moon.

No.no. I thought.

my heart pounded in my chest.

He wasn’t done living yet. He had a bright future. He was my friend. The sky wept with me, the moaning clouds stood still and unmoving

I heard a small wail behind me. it was young and full of life. I peeped over my drooping shoulders.

The baby lay there, her dark eyes seeping into me.

I picked her up. She nuzzled into my chest, making small cooing noises.

I tugged my eyes off of josh and stared over the field. They were green and lush, filled with life. the arms swinging in the cooling wind.

I turned to look at josh.

at least he died free.

I glanced back at the fields.

and that is what he would have wanted, to live free.

and I walked into the arms of golden grass.