Schatzi

38

"Elijah! Get out of my fucking way!"

Eli scampered into his old bedroom as his dad crashed down the hallway, drunk and dead to the world. All he seemed to do nowadays was drink and yell at Eli. It was like he was 10 again.

It had been a long time since he'd spoken to his father. They lived in the same house but they were each in their own separate worlds as much as possible. Eli stayed out of his fathers way, which was a lot easier since he was out almost all the time.

He was the only one in the family allowed out of the house, since there was not a drop of blood in him that wasn't aryan German, and his only crime was his Jewish family that no one even knew about anymore, since he'd divorced his wife and left her and his son with nothing. It was the proper thing to do then, the moment relationships between Germans and Jews were banned, but his decision to leave had not been based off the passing of any law.

His father had caught him with Peter when he was 15. It had been the most beautiful day, when the last remaining icy tendrils of spring has melted away and summer had finally arrived, their little garden which had grown tomatoes and various herbs back then bathed in sunlight. They thought they were hidden behind his mother's prized tomato plant and the lattice fence it had grown up and around. Peter had pulled him behind the plant, grabbing his hand as he kneeled in the soft dirt to pull Eli down with him.

There was very little room behind the tomato plant so they were bunched in very close together, like peas in a pod. Peter's hand rested on Eli's knee. Eli's hand was buried in the dirt right next to Peter's shiny shoes, the soles now caked in mud. Knowing Peter's mum, there would be words about that as soon as he got home. But then, it was just the two of them, with no parents to disturb them. The smooth skin of Peter's palm was cool against Eli's knee, scarred and bumpy from years of tripping and falling while playing in the street. When he slid his hand further up Eli's leg, his breath hitched and stuck in his throat, Peter's fingers digging gently but firmly into the bare, freckled skin just above the hemline of where his shorts ended. Eli lifted his own hand up and placed it over Peter's, tracing small and soft circles on the back of his hand, fingers trembling in a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

When Peter leant in to kiss him, he automatically leant away from him. Peter stopped, face inches from Eli's, frowning out of concern.

Eli wanted to kiss him, obviously. He'd known of Peter's feelings and Peter had known about his for almost a year. They'd kissed before. But he still felt dirty every time they did it. Every time Peter touched him there was a little voice inside his head telling him that it was wrong. Deep down, he knew it was wrong.

But he pushed it aside even though he knew he'd still overthink it later, lying in bed and regretting his sinful actions. He knew it was against the law, and he knew it was against his religion (which back then he still followed in a devout way, led by his mother's faith), but he kissed Peter, hand raised up to cup his cheek, feeling Peter curl his fingers into Eli's hair which was much shorter and manageable back then, only a few locks falling into his eyes and the rest relatively short.

That's when Eli's father had found them, kissing slowly, wrapped around each other in the garden, caught completely by surprise when he poked his head into their hiding spot.

What happened next was still a blur to Eli, although Peter had told him all of what he'd seen.

Eli's dad has grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out into the open, not caring when Eli struggled and skidded, dragging him onto the grass. Peter had jumped up and quickly rushed to help him but Eli's dad has struck him too before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in close.