Although we are not free, and we will never leave Auschwitz, I am glad to know we’re on the same page again.
“What if Otto is dead?” Frannie 2 says.
“Adolf and the White Angel must die,” I say, “so that someday Kidland can be rebuilt.”
“But we can help rebuild it!”
Frannie smacks her lips disapprovingly. “We aren’t children anymore. We’re products of Auschwitz, we’re freaks. We can never live in a society of children again.”
Frannie closes the gate and takes my good hand. I offer my left thumb to Frannie 2. Together, we face Auschwitz. We march toward Dead Kid Hill and the ruins of Toy Division. “I know it sounds terrible,” I say, “but right now this kind of feels like home.”
Frannie’s torso widens into a smile and the sky brightens.
In Auschwitz Square, the morning siren screams.