Page 2 of The Little Liar
“Come, child.”
“Hurry, child!”
The passengers shuffled Fannie through the scrum of bodies, touching her back as if sealing wishes upon it. She reached the large man, who hoisted her to the window.
“Legs first,” he instructed. “When you land, curl up and roll.”
“Wait—”
“We can’t wait! You must go now!”
Fannie spun toward Sebastian. Tears filled his eyes.I will see you again, he said, but he said it to himself. A bearded man who had been mumbling prayers edged forward to whisper in Fannie’s ear.
“Be a good person,” he said. “Tell the world what happened here.”
Her mouth went to form a question, but before she could, the large man pushed her through the opening, and she was gone.
Wind whooshed through the window. For a moment, the passengers seemed paralyzed, as if waiting for Fannie to come crawling back. When that didn’t happen, they began pushing forward. Ripples of hope spread through the boxcar.We can get out! We can leave!They crushed up against one another.
And then.
BANG! A gunshot. Then several more. As the train screeched its brakes, passengers scrambled to put the grate back over the window. No luck. It wouldn’t hold. When the car stopped moving, the doors yanked open, and a short German officer stood in blinding sunlight, his pistol held high.
“HALT!” he screamed.
Sebastian watched the hands fall away from the window like dead leaves dropping from a shaken branch. He looked at the officer, looked at the passengers, looked at the teenage girl crying on the waste bucket, and he knew their last hope had just been extinguished. At that moment, he cursed the one missing member of his family, his younger brother, Nico, and he swore he would find him one day, make him pay for all this, and never, ever, forgive him.
Let Me Tell You Who I Am
You can trust the story you are about to hear. You can trust it because I am telling it to you, and I am the only thing in this world you can trust.
Some would say you can trust nature, but I disagree. Nature is fickle; species thrive then flame out. Others suggest you can trust faith. Which faith? I ask.
As for humans? Well. Humans can be trusted only to watch out for themselves. When threatened, they will destroy anything to survive, especially me.
But I am the shadow you cannot outrun, the mirror that holds your final reflection. You may duck my gaze for all your days on earth, but let me assure you, I get the last look.
I am Truth.
And this is a story about a boy who tried to break me.
For years, he hid, during the Holocaust and after it, changing names, changing lives. But in the end, he must have known I would find him.
Who could spot a little liar better than me?
“Such a beautiful boy!”
Let me introduce you to him, before all the lying began. Stare at this page until your eyes drift into cloudy subconscious. Ah. There he is. Little Nico Krispis, playing in the streets of Salonika, Greece—also known as Thessaloniki—a city by the Aegean Sea that dates back to 300 BCE. Here the ruins of ancient bathhouses mix with streetcars and horse-drawn wagons, the olive oil market bustles, and street vendors sell their fruits, fish, and spices taken off the morning boats from the harbor.
The year is 1936. The summer sun is heating the cobblestone by the famous White Tower, a fifteenth-century fortress built to protect Salonika’s shores. In a nearby park, children shriek happily in a game calledabariza, where two teams draw chalk boxes then chase one another between them. If they are caught, they must stand in the box until they are “freed” by a teammate.
Nico Krispis is the last one left from his team. He is being chased by an older boy named Giorgos. The captured children shout “Look out, Nico!” whenever Giorgos gets too close.
Nico grins. He is fast for his age. He dashes to a streetlamp,grabs hold, then spins around, launching himself like a slingshot. Giorgos pumps his arms. It’s a footrace now. Nico’s toe touches the edge of the chalk box just as the older boy slaps his shoulder.
“Abariza!” Nico yells as the children scatter. “Liberté!Freedom!”
“No, no! I got you, Nico!” Giorgos declares. “I tagged you before you touched!”
