makinglies | There are no cats in America

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There are no cats in America

Moving to a new country is difficult but if you're a child it seems impossible. True, things had been terrifying with the bombings and soldiers and the news of that their government had been doing behind the country's back. Thirteen years old, but Albert still reads the news, still listens to the radio. Soon after they're on a boat, crammed in with other emigrants chattering in a cacophony of languages, pushing and shoving. There were other children, but mostly Albert opted to keep to himself, helping his mother but otherwise holed up in their tiny shared cabin and waited to see the spines of Lady Liberty's crown welcoming them to what his mother calls "a land of new opportunities". Albert, always a practical child, just hoped it would be a land of fresher air.

It's been a few months since then. They'd arrived at the start of summer with New York City sweltering. With his mother working two jobs and a little saved up, they'd managed to get a small fan and some other things for the little apartment, but despite the hardships they'd managed to make a nice little life for themselves in this new country. Their community on the lower east side is friendly and breathes of home in Dresden, or so Albert feels. He even made friends with the old man who runs the bookshop on the corner, his son having been claimed by the war on the side of the Allies. He'd also been named Albert, and the man would often reminisce in German and sometimes share the haribo candies he'd always have around. He may be the only friend Albert had made, but he was content with that.

Even so, as the weather turned colder and fall set in, Albert's mother enrolled him in school. Albert had always liked school back home, strict as it was, but here in America it seemed all the other boys were so loud and tall and frightening. He'd mostly stayed away from other children since arriving, but now he's been thrown in the front of a class and as the teacher pushes him to introduce himself to the room every eye is on him and he can't help but fidgit and look anywhere except at all the unfamiliar faces.

"Ha-hallo, I-I am Albert Heinrich..." He trails off, brutally self conscious at his accent and flushing a red which he knows reaches his ears. The teacher - Miss Jones - waits for an interminable moment to see if he'll say something else, then simply shoos him to an empty desk with some annoyance and begins to write the day's lesson on the blackboard. Safe for the moment, Albert sinks as low as he can in his seat and pulls his oversized newsy cap down around his ears in an attempt to hide the fact that they're still pink.

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She pauses as he flees. It's a tiny little pause, but it's there. Doubt. Worry. But the anger and betrayal washes over her again as Albert tries to lunge past her for the door and she stops him like a linebacker, solid and immovable.

"Jet! Jet! Come back!" He screams it, his own voice scratching his throat with the desperation of his cries, but Edda won't budge and in his fury he rounds on her, hands balled into fists even with no real threat of raising them to his mother. "Mutti, wie konntest du ihn werfen, nach allem, was er durchgemacht hat?! Sie rief ihn ein Teil unserer Familie, wie konntest du wieder auf das gehen?!"

"Er verdirbt Ihnen! Er ist ein schlechter Einfluss!"

"Er hat mich gerettet! Jahrelang war er mein einziger Freund, und jetzt sind wir --" Albert swallows, uncertain for a moment before his eyes turn to cold steel and he looks straight at his mother, voice suddenly calm and cold and deadly serious. "Ich liebe ihn. Und ich werde nicht ihn allein da draußen einfrieren zu lassen."

Grabbing his own jacket as well as Jet's, Albert takes advantage of his mother's shock and breezes past her even as she tries to find words. "A-Aber ... das ist ...sündige."

"Es ist die Liebe. Wie ist das eine Sünde?" The door shuts behind him and Albert clatters down the stairs of the building, tying his scarf as he goes.

Barefoot, in jeans and a t-shirt and no jacket, Jet ran from the apartment and into the snow. He couldn't see and couldn't think, there was a roar in his head and a haze over his eyes. He didn't know where he was running, only that he couldn't stop until whatever muck had latched itself onto his existence dropped away and stopped infecting the people he'd cared about.

She'd accused him of corrupting Albert. Was that true? Albert had only shown an interest in girls before and then Jet had opened his mouth and--but he couldn't even find it in him to regret it. Albert's hands on him, the feeling of his lips, those eyes staring into his...he wouldn't trade any of it. He'd never been happier, felt safer or stronger than when he was with Albert. Was he wrong for all of that too?

He ran until his lungs burned so bad not breathing seemed kinder and Jet collapsed against a chain-link fence, just outside of the pool of light a street lamp offered. Snow soaked his pants and shirt and the shivers he hadn't felt before shook his thin frame harder. If he couldn't shake the curse off, maybe he'd sit here and freeze to death instead and take it with him. Maybe that would be better. He let himself slip to his side and curl up, tears tracking down his face and leaving warm spots that chilled instantly.

Why did he always ruin the good things in his life?

Edited 2014-12-10 06:46 (UTC)

Albert's not even out the door of his building before his name resounds from the first floor stairwell. He whirls to look at his mother, ready for another argument, or maybe just to snap at her and go. Jet is out there in the freezing night and he can't waste any time arguing about the morality of his relationship. But Edda's face is not one of defiance, it's one of shame. Eyes downcast even from the landing and Jet's snowboots in her hands, she offers them to her son.

"Er war barfuß," she tells him in a soft voice. "Er wird diese. ich werde-"

She interrupts herself and Albert pauses briefly in taking the books, looking at her face expectantly but with an urgency that he won't stay much longer.

"Ich werde dir helfen zu suchen."

He looks at her eyes for a moment longer, then nods, some of his anger soothed by her offer of help. A moment later and they take separate paths from the apartments.

* * *

Nearly an hour later and Albert's almost called himself hoarse crying Jet's name into the freezing wind. His nose is numb and his fingers frigid even in their gloves as he continues his search, refusing to give up even after turning up empty in all the places he usually haunts with Jet. The music store, the corner shop, the alley behind the neighborhood garage. None of these places show any sign that Jet's been there, but with the snow starting to fall and land in big, blanketing clumps, Albert's starting to wonder if any trace had been covered up and the only way he'd find Jet would be as a picture of his frozen body in the newspaper.

He can't let that happen.

"Jet!" He cries again, scratchy but forcing his voice past his throat in near desperation as he passes the fence around Soundview Park, rattling the chain link as he runs his hand against it. "Jet, where are you?"

He didn't know when he slipped into cold-induced sleep, the blanket of snow offering a chilly temptation to simply stay put and let everything go away. If he didn't move, he wouldn't have any troubles and he couldn't bring others any trouble either. Maybe, when he woke up, things would be better.

It was so tempting.

Something breaks through the haze and threatens to drag him back to the surface with hands that are so cold they bite. No, he didn't want that, he wanted to stay and just disappear! But the hands were insistent and they latched on hard and heaved him into a half-consciousness. It wasn't the hands that bit into him with their chill, it was the winter wind and the thin layer of snow that covered him. The chill was threatening to reach right into his center as it had already claimed his limbs and the side he was laying on, leaving him virtually numb to anything else. But what was that sound? What was so important that he'd been dragged into a vague alertness?

A familiar voice called out loudly, calling Jet's name, trying to find him. He wasn't supposed to find him though, was he? Jet didn't think so. But he wanted the owner of that voice to find him, he wanted it desperately.

"Al-" His voice was quiet and rough from his ragged breathing and the frost that seemed to have settled in his lungs. But he had to try again, to get Albert's attention.

"A-Albert! Where are you?" It was scratchy and still quiet, but it was more than a whisper this time and a numb hand moved up of it's own accord and smacked against the chain of the fence at his back. How strange to hit something with a limb that didn't feel like it existed, but the sound it made was proof enough it had happened. He hoped it was enough, there was something he was forgetting, something important, but right now all he could think of was those silver eyes and that soft smile and how he wanted to be with his German and the warmth he had.

Winter is usually Albert's favorite season; Christmas, of course, but it's more the way the snow turns the so loud city to silence, especially at night. It's eerie but calming, and tonight it saves a life.

Normally Albert may not have heard Jet's hoarse cry from the other side of the fence, but with the city silent under the muffling snowfall, the croak and rattle of the fence are enough to grab his attention.

"Jet! Scheisse," he can see him now, half covered in snow on the ground and in sharp relief against the sulfur glow of the street lamp. A moment more and Albert's all but vaulted the fence, climbing as if life depends on it - well, someone's does - and dropping to the ground on the other side just to promptly go to his knees and pull Jet close.

"You idiot, why didn't you take your coat?! And your shoes! You could have died!!" He fusses over his boyfriend, pulling Jet's coat around its owner. He's been carrying it this entire time. Jet's shoes too, which he tries to help the redhead get into next. He has to keep doing, keep fussing, or else the thought will actually take root that Jet still could die. That he's too late, that he couldn't protect the person who means the most to him in the world.

He tries not to notice when tears sting his eyes, or dribble hot down his chin. He just tries to get Jet into his snow boots. "We've been looking everywhere for you. I thought I'd never find you. You could have gone into the subway for shelter you know, not catch frostbite out here. N-not..."

He swallows, almost hiccups, and can't get the damned shoe tied. It's hard to see with tears fogging your vision.

It seemed like Jet blinked and suddenly Albert was there, which was funny because everything seemed to be going really slowly. But as soon as Albert was with him, warmth seemed to return to him. He felt dry and the insulation of the coat was slowly bringing his body temperature up. As if jolted into survival instinct, his body was wracked with harsh shivers as it tried to generate it's own heat again. He wasn't out of the woods, but it was better than he'd been just laying there.

Jet only half-heard Albert's scolding, he was listening more to the tone because the words only made sense half of the time like he couldn't quite hear right or maybe he just couldn't process it. What he did process was the strain in his boyfriend's tone, the waver and break and that strangled way you get when you're trying not to cry but you can't stop it. Jet reached up and brushed too-cold fingers against Albert's cheek, his hand still pale and nearly blue at the tips. He couldn't make his fingers work, but he could still do that much.

"Hey...what's the tears for?" His voice came out tired and fractured here and there by the quakes still claiming him. He was groggy, sleep still seemed so appealing, but first he needed to know what was wrong with the one person who should never have reason to cry.

"I'm not crying." It's a defensive snap, said over a lump n his throat and a final huff as Jets boot is finally tied. Of course he's crying. He'd thought he would find Jet a lifeless corpse, covered in snow. Or worse, he'd never find him at all and he's spend the rest of his life searching. And he would too, keep looking forever.

"Come on." He doesn't stand right away, instead pulling Jet in to loop the taller boy's arm around his shoulders, then rising from his crouch. It's awkward with them both in their wool coats, the fabric of Jet's sleeve chafing Albert's already raw face where it peeks through the loops of his scarf, but he doesn't care. He has Jet and he's going to take him home.

"Let's go home. We'll start a fire and make cocoa so you can warm up." He puts one foot in front of the other, half supporting half dragging his marginally responsive boyfriend. "I'll dump every blanket we own on you, you'll be warm in no time."

Jet felt like he nodded, but it wasn't much of a motion. With his arm draped around Albert's shoulders, he tried to make his feet work. It felt like he was trying to walk through lead while suffering from the worst dizzy spell of his life. Everything was hazy and all he really knew was that whatever he was feeling wasn't right.

His body was fighting to stay warm, the shivering starting and stopping, but with his hands nearly blue and his feet only just starting to warm again with the boot's insulation, warming his core was taking a long time.

But the thought of being warm and curled up with Albert sounded nicer than anything else he could sort-of come up with. That was when the feeling of dread came over him and an image of Edda came to mind. What was it that had happened? Something had happened.

"What about...your ma?"

"Forget about her. I took care of it." Sort of. His words got through to her but he's not sure how far, he's not sure she won't nurse him back to health because that's the right thing to do and then send them both off to church every day for the rest of forever. But that's a problem for tomorrow. For today, he has to get Jet home, and warm, and safe. And he has to keep him awake, so Albert keeps talking, reaching up to wipe the slowly cooling tears from his cheeks as they make slow tracks in the snow.

"Do you ever wonder what Dodger Stadium looks like in the snow? They never play baseball in the snow even though they keep playing football, why is that?"

Albert's assurance was good enough for now, mostly because he couldn't even remember what the problem was in the first place still. The questions posed to him, while not important, were easier to concentrate.

"Guess cause...you're already running into each other, so if you slip no one's even really gonna notice." Made sense to him. "Bet the stadium's all quiet. Lookin like someone threw a blanket on it." It was probably really peaceful...in his jacket and boots he could probably lay down in that silence and fall asleep so easily, peacefully.

His head bowed a bit and he got a little heavier in Albert's grip, leading him to stumble over his own feet as he nearly fell asleep just thinking about it. Wouldn't it just be easier if Albert left him there to sleep a little while? Then he'd be able to walk normal and not burden Albert.

"Sorry, Al...m'so tired."

"I know, but you gotta stay awake." Jet sounding so small clenches at his heart and makes him trudge all the faster through the snowy sludge that has yet to be swept from the sidewalks. Just a little further then they can make it to the subway where it's a little warmer. Then home. Home with the old pot-bellied stove and hot chocolate and a myriad of blankets that he hopes will be enough to bring Jet back to health.

And if his mother has further complaints, she'll have to go through Albert to voice them.

"It's not that much longer, Jet. Hey, why don't you tell me about air force planes? You did your book report on that, right?" Stay awake. Please stay awake.

Air force planes...yeah, he'd done a whole bunch of research on them and even though he couldn't remember why Albert's mother was a concern, he could remember snatches of what he'd written about.

"There were these planes they were gonna make...in the war, you know. Assault gliders that were supposed to land in a place first and secure it so other people could move in. It was gonna have...something like eight people to this one tiny plane...crazy. They cancelled the project. Guess someone thought it wasn't so good a idea."

They were heading into the subway now, he could tell cause the wind suddenly cut off and the stench of the place was unmistakable. Some lucid part of his mind wondered at how far he'd gotten that they now needed to take a train to get home. His head filled with static as he tried to think about what it was he was missing, it was there, he could feel it but it was just out of reach.

Violent shivers ran through him and chattered his teeth but he kept his feet moving as long as Albert kept walking. "Hey, Al, how much longer till we get there?" His mind hiccuped and instead of waiting for an answer, he carried on with another, suddenly important question. "I can't remember: what was your report on? Music or something?" Or was it birds? It was too hard to focus on anything beyond moving and not falling asleep like Albert so clearly didn't want him to.

"Classical composers. Wagner, mostly. The teacher made me play a song, remember? I was mortified, I hate playing in front of people." He smiles a little, hiking Jet up a bit as they wait for the train. "You gave me a thumbs up though, that was nice."

It's all they had in class, little masculine gestures to hide what encouragement they can't actually express for fear of slurs and potential physical harm.

"The train should be coming soon. You know, before New York, I'd only ever been on a train once?" He switches topic, stream of consciousness his only lifeline at the moment. "It was to get to the coast so we could sail here. I told you about that, right? How there was the old man who went crazy and tried to tame the rats?"

"Did you? Can't 'member that one." Sounded like a good story, though.

The train pulled up and some people came out, most of them ignoring the two boys and the others only sparing them a glance before moving on. Jet was barely aware of any of them, they were just more background noise his tired and frozen brain couldn't process.

"But...I know you played nice. Everyone's impressed. You're good at that." He liked Albert's playing, Jet had had the thought once that Albert might even be able to do something with that skill someday.

He didn't speak again until they were in the train car and moving (the learch having caused Jet to fall more against Albert and stay there because of his boyfriend's warmth.)

"You're gonna...go off and be some...music guy or something."

"You said we should find rats and make money with a rat circus. I laughed but I think you were kind of serious, maybe."

They settle in on the train and it's so much warmer in here. Not because of any heating, but the residual warmth from the press of commuting bodies earlier that day and being underground and insulated from the biting cold. And even still Jet feels icy, but he seems to be shivering again which Albert takes as a good sign.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying with you," he replies firmly, brokering no argument. "You need someone to look after you since you go do stupid things like run out into the snow with no coat."

"Oh yeah..." Jet shook his head slightly. "But...naw, you've gotta go to brainschool and do something....you know, like squares do."

He smiled and let his eyes drift close for a moment. He could half imagine it: Albert all grown and filled-out and some handsome composer or something. Maybe even a teacher at one of those 'brainschools' that nerdy look was good on him. But then rats started performing circus tricks around adult-Albert's desk and Jet jolted as the train lurched again.

"...can't go to brainschool....they don't like pets." He was talking about the rats, but it occurred to him a moment later that it really just came out as nonsense. "How many stops, Al?"

Edited 2015-06-08 04:13 (UTC)

I guess I can't bring you, then, the thought runs through his mind unbidden, causing Albert to smirk a little, but it fades when he realizes that Jet is starting to doze again and that's why he'd said something so strange. "Only two, stay awake now."

He wracks his brain for something else to talk about, something that will keep Jet's attention long enough to get home. "You could come too, y'know. You're smart and you could get good marks if you actually turned in your work. I bet we could go to college together."

With everything that's happened, with what he's put on the line with his mother to keep Jet - and keep Jet safe - Albert doesn't even want to entertain the idea of letting him out of his sight.

If Albert's goal was to gain Jet's attention and hold it long enough to get to their stop, he was mostly successful. Jet was still out of it and the color still wasn't quite right in his face, but his eyes opened and he sat up enough to look at Albert like he was waiting to hear the punchline. It didn't come. He gave that same shake of his head.

"No way...even if I hit the books hard over the next two years, they'd never let me in. Leastways, not the kind of places a guy like you should go." Maybe he'd be able to get into some small thing, decent but not great, but Albert deserved all those big name places. They'd take him too, Jet was sure. They paid money to people who were the first of their family to go and Al was super smart too. Jet knew he wasn't a dummy by any stretch, but he wasn't so smart as all that.

The train came to a stop, people left. People came on. The train moved on.

"But...it'd be nice. Don't really like the idea of you goin' off alone. Might be some pretty chick're......something. Gotta fend 'em off." He wasn't so out of it not to sensor himself and leave off the word 'guy,' there might not be a lot of people, but there were still some.

"You could. I know you could." He says it like fact, like Jet's trying to argue with him that the sky isn't blue. "And I'd rather you go with me. I don't know what I'd do with my free time if I wasn't keeping you out of trouble."

He watches a man make his way through the car as he speaks softly to Jet, a tall guy with hair hidden by his wool cap but a ruddy and worn face beneath. He has an empty paper cup and he keeps shoving it in the face of everyone he passes, silently asking for change. Most people ignore him, some give him an angry frown, though it might be a grimace for all Albert can smell him from here at the end.

"We both deserve some kind of future though, and they say if you're educated you have a better choice." The train rolls to a stop as the muffled speakers announce 2nd Avenue in the garbled language of subway operators everywhere. Albert hauls Jet to his feet and tries to hurry them for the doors.

"C'mon, we're almost there."

Jet's up and moving through Albert's prompting before he can string together a proper response. He still can't feel his feet or hands or face, but his shivering is more regular and less stop and start, like his body was finally getting the message it needed to warm up. At least until they reached the streets again and Jet's shivering became less in the cold. Hopefully it wasn't too far now, he could feel his mind numbing again in the bitter bite of the wind.

"No...but..you're right. All the more reason...for me not to go. You'd do so great...no distractions an' all." He wanted to go, it was a dim light in the blacked out room of his mind, the thought of going off with Albert and never leaving his side, but it was a light that didn't seem to want to stay on either. He caused Albert so much trouble, between Leo and his own father and Albert's mother who he loved so much--

He jerked to a stop, brown eyes wide with the sudden flare of a different light blinding out all else. "Your ma." He shook his head and stumbled back a step like he was trying to go again but he couldn't quite bare to leave Albert's touch either. He was selfish like that.

"Your ma hates me, I-I ruined it." His eyes clenched shut and his throat got tight, but his eyes were too dry and cold to waste the liquid needed to cry, instead the hand still on Albert's coat curled as tight as it could in the fabric. He couldn't go back there, he remembered now, he'd blown everything and it had fallen apart and she'd been so angry it sent terror and grief spiking through him.

"We can't talk about this right now." He wants to, wants to convince his boyfriend that he's certainly smart enough to go to college, to stay with Albert through to adulthood. Or maybe he doesn't need it, if Jet doesn't. He'll stay here, get a job. That would be good too, so long as he doesn't have to leave Jet. But it's too big of a conversation, and he has to get Jet to warmth and safety.

"I took care of it. She's not going to bother us. You didn't ruin anything." He pulls Jet closer again, not caring who sees at this point. There's no one around anyway; even the homeless man stayed on the train. He clutches Jet's shoulder, holding the taller boy to him and starting them walking unsteadily towards the exit to the station. "We're going to go home, you're going to sit in front of the stove with every blanket in the place, and I'll make you a hot drink. I'll take care of you."

Jet didn't have much of a choice but to follow Albert's lead up through the station and back onto the street where the harsh crisp cold air was waiting for them. A shiver shook his frame and he pressed in closer to Albert without thinking about it or the thankfully empty street.

He didn't understand how Albert could have taken care of anything or how Jet hadn't ruined anything. No, neither of them could have known Edda was five minutes instead of two hours from home, but he still should have had some patience and kept his distance. Or at least a less compromising position.

He shook his head"trust you, Al." It was muttered groggily under his breath, but the next part he spoke up for, complete with slight confusion the observation warranted. "Ever since Leo...seems to me we're doing a lot more of taking care of each other than me watching out for you. Guess that's kinda funny."

What was also funny was how they were now just outside of the apartment complex and a new surge of anxiety flooded his system unbidden, but this time he didn't jolt.

Edited 2015-10-14 04:23 (UTC)

Albert keeps them walking, up and out and onto their own stoop. Just three stairs and they're finally in the building and out of the cold and Albert feels he can breathe a little easier with their goal so near.

"I think," he starts, all but carrying Jet up the stairs. "You just realize I can, after punching that schweinhund in his stupid face."

He might still be a little angry. Seeing Jet vulnerable like that, or even like this tonight, it makes him want to fight anything and anyone who would do that to someone he held so dear. He would, too, which is so strange when he thinks of how quiet and shy he used to be, always doing what he was told and never rocking the boat even a little. Now he's punching boys in alleys and all but yelling at his mother and instead of being appalled at himself he decides it feels good to have his emotions on his sleeve like that. It's not for all the time, and he'd still rather go by the rules otherwise, but knowing that he has it in him when it's really important is empowering in a way he'd never felt before meeting Jet.

"So for right now, you can just let me take care of everything. You just worry about getting warm again." He fumbles for his key, but the door opens before them instead, revealing Edda's broad form and a wave of glowing warmth from the little pot bellied stove that can be felt even from there.

Edda doesn't say a word, she just stands aside to let them in and then retreats to fetch blankets.

He couldn't find anything to say in response to that. Albert was probably right, Jet was so wrapped up in the thought he had to protect Albert that he hadn't noticed Albert could protect him too until he'd needed it.

The warm air that blasted through the open door was like the air of a bonfire to his frozen everything and he nearly shied away from fear of burning, but it was too inviting to do anything but allow himself to shuffle towards it with Albert's support. Edda stood like an imposing mountain over Jet, impressive considering he was taller than her, but her presence wasn't nearly so stormy and dangerous as it had been when he'd last seen her.

His brain was too frozen, his thoughts too sluggish to come up with anything that wasn't base emotion. His eyes stayed glued to the floor and their feet instead.

In a matter of moments he found himself sitting in front of the stove that was radiating that searing heat. It hurt more than helped to start, but something was beginning to thaw. He shivered harder.

"...I'm s-s-sorry." It was so quiet and shaken by his body trying to warm itself up that he wasn't even sure she'd heard it. He wasn't even sure he wanted her too in case it just made things worse.

She pauses at the cupboard, blankets half in hand when she hears Jet's apology. She has ears like a bat, something Albert inherited, and so there was little chance she could have missed the frozen teen's words even with the bustle of Albert settling him in front of the stove and moving off to make cocoa and fill a hot water bottle.

"Liebchen, you just don't..." She starts to say, suddenly aware of her son's piercing eyes on her despite what she'd thought was a soft and gentle tone. She looks back at Albert, defiantly this time, and says her piece. To both of them. "You don't know any better. But we'll talk it out in the morning. Warm him up and get me if he worsens."

She lays out the blankets, one over Jet's shoulders, another at his side, and the rest on the couch before she disappears into her bedroom. It seems for now she doesn't want to talk about it.

Albert, on the other hand, mutters German epithets under his breath, not directed at his mother so much as at her attitude. He lets it drop when the kettle whistles and he brings the cocoa to his boyfriend. Like his mother, he's decided that now is not the time. Jet's health matters more.

"Are you feeling warmer?"

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