Wander logo

Another Life

I never imagined that when I was going through my grandmother’s belongings I’d find an entire lifetime stashed away inside a small black book.

By KikoPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
Like

The small, black notebook was worn and looked like the pages would fall out if I wasn’t careful. Curiosity got the better of me, though it still felt like an invasion of her privacy, I opened it up and began reading journal entries from a life I never knew Gran had.

****

25th, August 1944

I feel sick, thinking of how I took something that might have been so important from that man’s body. It feels wrong, but it’s too late to return it. What came over me, I’ll never know, but a simple pocket watch has turned me into a petty thief. Even with the guilt that haunts me, I cannot help but imagine the possibility of leaving this godless war behind. I pray that the man’s family and God may forgive me for this.

To her absolute horror the man was dead when she reached him, his pained expression frozen on his face forever. She couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, and used her fingers to gently close his eyes. A glint caught her eye as she went to stand and her hand moved before she could think to stop it. Quickly, she pulled a golden pocket watch out of his breast pocket and hid it in her own front pocket. Guilt immediately began to eat at her, but she pushed it down as she moved on to her next patient.

5th, September 1944

I was able to get the watch appraised and according to the jeweler that I spoke with in Paris, the watch is worth the equivalent of almost seven thousand pounds. He said that it was likely something that was taken from a German, because there is Dutch writing inside. It eases my guilt a bit, knowing that I didn’t take from that man’s family. I think that he might have taken it from a German he killed at some point, which could be why he concealed it.

“Do you,” she began in English and then thought better. Her French was incredibly limited, but the least she could do was try. “Anglais?” she asked this time, to which the man nodded and held his hand out.

“Enough,” he replied. “Help you?”

“This watch,” she continued. “I- I found it. How much do you think I could get for this?”

He took the watch from her outstretched hand and held it in his own, staring at it intently for a few moments. As he stared down at the watch, he began mumbling quietly.

“Sixty three.” His voice was firm and her heart dropped. Only sixty three pounds? He seemed to sense her confusion and held his hand out for her to wait a moment. Pulling a pen and paper out, he wrote down the price again, to which she let out a heavy breath.

60,000.

“Francs,” he clarified. “For you I no know.”

He paused and squinted at her. “English, English?”

He took her nod as affirmation, walking through a small door behind the counter and returned with a small pocketbook.

“Pounds?” he asked again and she nodded her head slowly. “Sept mille,” he said, before grunting. “Ehh, seven thousand?”

Her heart stopped as he handed the watch back and shook his head at her quickly though.

“I no pay,” he said. “Someone maybe.”

“Merci,” she replied, taking the watch and holding it tightly. “Merci beaucoup.”

“Careful,” he said suddenly. “German,” he continued, pointing at the watch.

Satisfied with his warning, he nodded stiffly again and she stuffed the watch back into her pocket as she quickly left the shop.

20th, September 1944

It might be a better decision to hold on to the watch until after the war. I believe if I do so, I might be able to sell it for what the jeweler said he believed it might be worth. There is no doubt that selling a German watch would be dangerous right now. Nor is there any doubt that if I survive this war, I might get more for it.

****

The next few entries only included bits and pieces of Gran’s life. Mostly, she wrote about how she had written to her mother and how she wondered if the war would ever end. I quickly began flipping through the journal, looking for anything related to the watch.

****

4th, May 1945

Mother fell ill last week. According to the letter I received today, she died peacefully in her sleep soon after. The weight in my heart is so heavy it feels as though I cannot breathe. I cannot help but think I could have helped had I been there. Perhaps if I had sold the watch sooner, I could have been home with her to care for her. Oh Mother, I hope your soul can forgive me for my selfishness.

27th, May 1945

I sold the watch yesterday evening. After news broke that Germany had surrendered, I was only able to keep it so much longer. The burden of carrying it was becoming too much for me to bear. To my utmost surprise, I was offered more than ten thousand pounds! I am unsure what to do with so much, but I cannot help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of returning home to London. With Mother gone, the house will feel morbidly empty and lonely, that I am sure of. Perhaps I will travel, I feel a strong urge to see a bit more of the world.

7th, June 1945

I saw the Eiffel Tower today. I cannot help but imagine what my father would think of such a wonder. Paris is a sight to behold now that the Germans have gone. It pains me to think of how beautiful it must have been before the war, but they have begun recovering quite well. The beauty of it made me miss Mother.

****

The idea that Gran had been rich, that she had been a nurse. Gran never talked about herself. I never even knew where she was from. She’d seen the Eiffel Tower? She’d been to Paris during the war. She was from London.

I couldn’t believe what I had found. I never imagined that when I was going through my grandmother’s belongings I’d find an entire lifetime stashed away inside a small black book.

****

30th, August 1945

The Statue of Liberty is truly a sight to see, as is the Empire State Building. I felt such a rush whilst standing at the top, staring out at the city. I never thought I could be so high up. I never believed something could be so tall until I experienced it today.

31st, August 1945

I met a man today who looked familiar. He said that he had been in my camp once during the war, that I treated his wounds. I vaguely remembered his face, but he said he could never forget mine. While speaking to him, I finally understood what Mother felt when she spoke of Father.

****

I pulled myself together as I read. Didn’t Pop always say he and Gran met in New York at the Empire State Building?

****

4th, October 1945

Married. I cannot believe that less than a year after leaving behind the wretched war, I married a soldier who fought in it. He’s such a wonderful man, with the kindest heart I have ever seen. For a man who lived through so many horrors, he has the truest laugh as well. A laugh that hides the pain from what we both saw.

24th, October 1945

He confided in me today of a friend he met during the war. A friend who fought beside him and found a golden pocket watch on the body of a German soldier. Apparently, they thought it might be worth something someday. My heart aches at the very thought that I might have taken something from his friend as he lay dead in front of me.

That was how he knew me. It was that day. The day I found the watch was the same day I met him for the first time. I tended to his wounds just moments after stealing from his dead friend’s body. Oh, how can God forgive me for this? How could he ever forgive me for what I did to his friend?

20th, January 1946

He has never asked me where I got the money I have. After exchanging it, I received twenty thousand American dollars. It seems to be enough to keep us afloat for many years to come. But, I am unsure if I feel right keeping it. After learning of his friend, learning how I got this money, I feel that I cannot keep it as mine.

28th, February 1946

I have decided to donate the money. He said that many families who lost loved ones during the war never received much more than a letter to know what had happened to them. It is the only thing that I believe will ease my heavy soul of the guilt I feel.

She took a deep breath as she locked the remaining money in the box. It wasn’t much, but something was better than nothing. While she couldn’t keep all the money, it seemed a waste to not leave anything for emergencies.

After so many years of keeping it to herself, she felt free as she hid the box underneath the floorboard in their closet and clutched the key tightly.

For a rainy day.

****

I closed the journal quickly and stood. In fact I stood so quickly that my head started spinning, though I wasn’t sure if it was because I stood or because of what I’d just read.

A quiet clink made me pause, and I looked down to see a small, rusted key lying on the floor next to where I’d been sitting.

vintage
Like

About the Creator

Kiko

I've always loved telling stories. As I've gotten older, writing has helped me work through dark times and I feel it may help others understand what some go through every day.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.