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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2114712
What happens when a family NOT affected by the Holocaust moves to the United States...
- Prologue -

There are three Things you should know before reading this story:

You are never truly safe, but you are always protected.

You are never truly free, but you are always independent.

You are never truly living, but you are always alive.

These three Things are what will keep you aware and cultivated of the fact that things are never the way you want them to be, but rather the way they should.

Now, someone (probably me) has explained what this book this about. And no, this is not The Book Thief, Number The Stars, or any of those other ones you might have read in the past.

There is oblivian, but also knowledge.

There is fear, but also bravery.

There is sadness, but also happiness.

History, whether the world’s or your own, will always have these Things.

- 1 -

“Jsme bude pozdě!”

We are going to be late.

But the plane did not leave until 21:00.

It was currently 17:00

“Jsme běží co nejdříve, pokud si myslíte o tom!”

We might as well have been running early.

24 February 1943.

María Haluzová - Eleven years old - 556 Solenská Prague 1.

I mean, until tomorrow.

She zipped up her luggage and ran down to the basement where her father’s and brother’s belongings were also bagged, waiting for their journey across the ocean into the United States of America.

Why are they moving?

Are they in danger?
Well, no one was really not in danger at this time, but they weren’t particularly the unlucky ones either. Their decision was based on geography, but curiosity as well. Their father’s mid-life crisis could also be blamed.

The luggage was finally ready to be put into the van to be taken to Letiště Václava Havla Praha. Václav Havel Airport Prague. What an exiting moment this was for María. Sad to leave her friends, but she was determined to make new ones. Her father had told her that the Untied States has extraordinary things to offer that Prague did not, and she was thrilled to be able to get to explore this new environment.

It was now 18:03.

She watched as the van had finally pulled up. A young man with a burgundy head of hair jumped out of the vehicle and began to wheel carts where their bags would be kept during the two hour drive to the airport.

Suddenly, she heard the far away sound her father had always talked about. The sirens, he called them.

“Papa!” she yelled upstairs. “The sirens!”

“Příchod, blíží!” he responded. “Do you remember what we do?”

“Yes, Papa!” she called back, and immediately began protocol.


Look for others, invite them in.

Pull the blinds.

On your stomach, in the basement.

Be quiet.

Wait patiently.

She called out to the man outside.

“Pospěš pospěš! Come in!”

He had immediately obeyed, dropping his cargo and joining the girl as her father and brother had made it down. The blinds were shut, and the crew lay on their bellies in complete silence.

It had lasted about only twenty minutes.

The time was 18:27 when the sirens had gone off.

María’s father, Ivaan Haluzová slowly rose himself to open the blinds as María softly cooed her younger brother Aleksander.

“It is clear.” Ivan confirmed. “There is no damage.”

Everyone rose slowly, still quiet. To be honest, María had never understood why they had a protocol.
When she had first asked her father a year ago when these events suddenly began, he had just confused her even more:

“It’s to keep us safe.” he answered.

“From what?” María asked. “What do we need to be safe from?”

Her father’s usual sparkle in his eyes suddenly lost it’s light.

“It is hard.” he said. “I will explain when you are older.”

‘Well, I am older now.’ María thought to herself. ‘I can ask him now.’

Everything slowly began to resume, as if nothing had happened, and the Haluzová’s piled into the van. María sat in between her father and her brother. The engine rumbled.

“Papa?” María asked. “Why do we do protocol when the sirens go off? What do the sirens mean, Papa?”

Ivaan father gently put an arms around his daughter and sighed.

“It is hard.” he said. “I will explain when you are older.”

That was not the response María wanted.

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