Inadvertently Entangled: Day 2

Word Count: 12,034

Summary of Events:

Pierson was taken by the man with the moustache and the slim man — whose names he learned were Clem and Arek, respectively — to a house, where they told him he'd be staying until they could determine how to get him out of Poland. Having slept alone in a basement room for the night, it wasn't until the following morning that Pierson discovered the woman whose home he was staying in was also hosting two Jewish families when he was invited to join the household for breakfast…

Excerpt of the Day:

As the food was passed around, conversation started, but it continued to be in the same language, which Pierson was supposing to be Yiddish or Hebrew, as it didn’t sound like the Polish he’d spoken the evening before.

The man who’d offered the prayer made eye contact with Pierson as Pierson passed a dish on and spoke in the language. Pierson was sure the man expected him to understand and reply, but he had no idea what had been said to him.

An understanding look came over the man’s face. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

The man thought he was afraid to speak.

“I don’t know what you said,” Pierson replied. “I don’t know that language.”

Everyone around the table — including the woman he recognised — startled, and many immediately looked alarmed, while the men and boys looked suspicious and defensive.

“What languages do you know?” the man demanded.

“English… and Polish,” Pierson replied. He was pretty sure those were the only two languages Uncle Ashford had known.

A scan of the faces around the table made it clear that no one was really all that inclined to believe him, including the woman he recognised and was presuming to be the hostess.

They probably all thought he was some sort of German traitor — not that he’d ever met a German with rich auburn hair such as he’d verified was still on his head in the bathroom — so telling them he was a Canadian from the 21^st century wouldn’t do him any good, and he didn’t recall Uncle Ashford sharing any stories about being accidentally mistaken as a Jew by Jews.

“There is nothing to worry about, as you said,” Pierson said — not that he was sure why, but he forced himself to look calm. “Even though I am not of your people, I am an ally and am here in an effort to help you. I care deeply for you, and am sympathetic to your plight, but, unfortunately, my ability to help you has been compromised and my life has become as imperilled as your own, thus I am here with you instead of out doing the work to help you that I would like to do. Do trust me, please. I am a friend of Clem and Arek, and they will vouch for my identity, I can assure you.”

“They’d better,” the man who’d prayed warned before taking up his utensils and starting to eat.

Everyone around the table followed the man’s lead, although Pierson could tell they were all massively suspicious of him, including his presumed hostess, who looked rather flustered.

Pierson felt badly, but nonetheless followed the lead of those with him and started eating the breakfast, which had what he felt was an appropriately Eastern European flavour to it, not that he was sure how he knew what an Eastern European flavour was, as he was rather used to North American, Hispanic, Asian, and Italian cuisines. He wasn’t even sure that he’d ever seen an Eastern European restaurant anywhere that could possibly have given him the opportunity to try Eastern European food.

Pronunciation:

Arek: ahrehk