The Lilac People

by Milo Todd

“Perhaps it will get better,” Bertie said flatly. “Herr Doktor taught many people, many countries. He put his life into it. He was right here in New York just before the War.” “There is teaching and then there is listening,” Roy said quietly. “So . . . what do we do now?” Karl asked. Sofie finally opened her mouth. “Live.” Bertie knew she was right, but he was also filled with bad feelings. He worried about moving forward, about putting so much trauma behind him. Because if he put it behind him, he worried that meant putting Gert and all the others behind him, too. All of his community, all of his family, all of his friends. He worried that to smile, to thrive, would be a betrayal to everyone who had died. If he was a good person, if they had meant the world to him, then he was not supposed to move forward. But he knew he had to. For the only other option was death, and after all those who had fallen, after all Gert gave so that Bertie could live, that felt like an even bigger insult to his memory. Bertie felt it all weigh upon him. They walked slowly, the sunlight peeking through the clouds. It glinted dully against the dagger around Roy’s neck. Bertie gave a dry chuckle, which sounded more like a cough. He spoke in Deutsch, and he did not care. “What a cruelty. One of the last surviving artifacts of our community, of our history, is an omen of death.” Karl shook his head. “History isn’t artifacts or pictures or things. History is the people who made them.” Bertie glanced...