The Heritage Paper

Chapter 23



A scared looking waitress took their order. Zach got the traditional club sandwich, while Maggie ordered the vegetarian lasagna.

“I didn’t know you were a vegetarian,” Zach tried to make conversation, acting like the whole gun incident never happened.

Maggie didn’t seem as affected—maybe it was just a typical day out with Uncle Eddie—but what he thought was a mundane comment raised her ire. “How would you? You don’t know me.”

She had a point.

A long awkward pause hovered, before Maggie said out of the blue, “My mom likes you.”

Zach tried to mask his surprise. “She said that?”

“No—it’s just that she gets all weird when you’re around. Gets all forgetful and stuff.”

He forgot the basic rules of a twelve-year-old—never let your guard down, and never underestimate their powers of perception. And sadly, eliciting memory loss from Maggie’s mom was the best response he’d gotten from a female in a while. Maggie seemed to be gauging his potential response, and he felt he needed to clear things up, whatever those things were.

“We just have a lot in common. Kind of like you and TJ.”

“What could you possibly have in common with my mom?”

“Well, we’re both raising twelve-year-olds. And as much of a special treat you might think that is, you aren’t always a picnic.”

“What happened to TJ’s mom? He never talks about it.”

“She got sick.”

“Is she in the hospital?”

“Something like that.”

Another awkward silence filled the air until the waitress returned with their meals. She dropped off their food and scurried away before Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday made a reappearance.

“So you’re a big Jim Kingston fan?” Zach asked, pointing at the T-shirt that Maggie broke school rules to wear. Using the old baggy-sweater trick to fool her mother.

“I’m a supporter, not a fan. A fan is someone who paints their face when they go to hockey games.”

“Okay, what do you support about him?”

“For starters, he’s the only candidate who’s backing our friends in their time of need.”

Wow, twelve years old, Zach thought, when he was her age all he wanted was a BMX bike.

“But I remember you mentioning that you volunteered for his campaign last summer, and there wasn’t any potential conflict then.”

“I’m big on environmental issues—I think it’s our job to leave the earth a better place than we found it, and Jim Kingston believes that. I think Theodore Baer’s policies are selfish and shortsighted.”

“You’re deeper than most kids your age.”

“My mom says kids who grow up in the city are like five years older than the average kid.” She shrugged. “So who are you voting for?”

“To be honest, I’m not a fan of either guy. But I still have twenty-four hours to figure it out. I usually work better when I’m up against a deadline.”

She didn’t seem thrilled by the response, but moved on. “Do you believe what my Oma said?”

“I think she believed what she said. And I’m convinced that Sterling believed her, or he wouldn’t have shown up.”

She sighed. “Get off the fence. Did you believe her or not?”

“I’m a reporter. My job is to observe and report the facts.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to change your order to waffles?”

Good one—underrated sense of humor. Like her mother.

“Okay, I believe the part about your Oma being taken in by the Nazis. And I trust your mom’s analysis of the painting. That is important, because it’s physical evidence that links Ellen’s relationship with Hitler, and gives credence to her claim that she had a child with Müller.”

“But?” she read his doubts.

“I’m not sure I believe the whole Apostles thing. If there ever was such a group, I doubt it ever materialized into anything significant. I think your Oma was looking to validate the importance of her existence as she neared the end, so when she read Youkelstein’s book about some of these Nazis possibly being alive, her imagination began to run and she created a history that never existed.”

“She was telling the truth,” Maggie remained steadfast, and irritably dug into her lasagna.

Zach shrugged. “Her timing is a little suspicious, to say the least.”

“The timing makes perfect sense. If Theodore Baer gets into power tomorrow, then our freedoms will slowly be taken away, allowing the Nazis to move in.”

Zach’s face creased in skepticism. “She told you that?”

“No, I figured it out on my own. But there’s still one part that doesn’t make sense.”

“And that would be?”

“The part about her son Josef being the one chosen to lead them back to power. It makes no sense. It would be like Kingston or Baer naming Jamie as their running mate.”

Zach looked out at the grounds where Eddie was giving Jamie a piggyback ride. Zach was pretty sure that Jamie would make a more capable vice president than Officer Eddie.

“So you don’t believe he was chosen?”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t chosen, I said it didn’t make sense,” she replied with a frustrated sigh—the grownup just wasn’t getting it. “I think to get to the bottom of this we have to answer the question why he was chosen.”

For most kids, losing their father at such a tender age would have knocked the passion out of them. But Maggie was still oozing with idealism and an overactive imagination that only a novelist could love. Zach got the idea that Ellen took advantage of these qualities, and part of him felt bad for the girl.

“Listen, Maggie, parents often glorify their children. And when children die at a young age they practically saint them. In the video, Ellen alleged that Josef died before he was able to fulfill his promise. I think she made him out to be this Chosen One because it raised him to heights his short life was never able to reach.”

Zach thought of his stillborn daughter, Abigail, who would have been TJ’s twin sister. Like most parents, Sara assumed that Abigail would’ve gone on to do great things if she had lived. Maybe. But nobody truly knows where life will take you. Maybe Abigail would have acquired the same sickness of addiction as her mother and ended up a junkie. The scenario was just as likely. Klara Hitler probably thought that her little Adolf would achieve great things. Or at least not become a mass murderer.

“But she didn’t glorify him. She knew he wasted his life, and she blamed herself.”

“Maybe she used the burden of being ‘chosen’ as an excuse for his demise?”

Maggie looked out at Eddie and Jamie rolling around in the grass, despite Eddie wearing an expensive suit. At that point, she decided to talk to herself because she seemed to be the only person who understood Maggie Peterson.

“Why was he chosen?” she asked.