My eyes well with tears and I fear my heart will beat right out of my chest. “Meir Faust.”
As I wait for her to respond, I pray, Please, please, please.
“My grandfather’s handwriting wasn’t the most legible. Bear with me as I look through all these names.”
“Take your time.”
After a long moment, she says, “Here it is. What was his mother’s name?”
“Estherly Krauss.”
“Oh…”
No. Not “oh.” No!
“That’s not the surname I have for her. Here it’s written Faust, like the child’s name.”
“Faust was his father’s last name. Estherly and Henry, Henry Faust, were not married. It’s too much of a coincidence that you’d have Estherly and Meir written down. That has to be him.”
“I agree,” she says.
“Can you tell me what happened to him?”
She goes quiet as tears stream down my face.
“According to the record, he was adopted by Gerald and Elizabeth Ainsworth. I apologize, but what was written isn’t very detailed. From what my great-Uncle Edwin told me, my grandparents kept most of the details in their minds. They didn’t want to lead the Nazis to the children they helped flee.”
“This is the most information this family has had in over seventy-five years,” I say, through tears.
“All I have is the children’s names, their birth parent’s names, the adoptive parent’s names, the child’s alias, and the city where they were taken. It looks like Meir’s name was changed to Lennon and he was kept here in London.”
I’m speechless.
“Hello?”
“I’m so sorry. I’m at a loss for words. Estherly was never able to find Meir after the war. She searched for him her entire life. Her family has been on the hunt ever since she passed away.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, but it seems you may have found information on him.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. My boyfriend, Sam, and I really want to help Estherly’s family. His aunt is still alive and would love to meet him.”
“I do hope the information I gave you helps,” she says.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. Would you mind if I contact you again in case I have any questions? I’m sure I’ll have a ton, but right now my mind is racing.”
Aleksandra agrees, and we end the call.
The first thing I do is call Sam.
“Hey, beautiful—”
“Sam,” I say, calming myself so I don’t blast his eardrums. “I was on the phone with Aleksandra. Are you close to home?”
“I can be home in about ten minutes. Did she have good news?”
“I’m trying really hard not to flip out right now.”
“Well?”
“She found Meir’s name and Estherly’s, only Estherly was under Faust, not Krauss. I know the names of his adoptive parents and he was sent to London.”
“Ferrin, with all that information, we’re going to find Meir.”
“I know… I know we are. Look, I’m going to grab my laptop really quick. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?”
“Yes. My heart is beating so fast,” he says.
“I know. Mine, too. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I was on the phone with her, and I can’t stop crying.”
“I don’t blame you. You’re emotionally invested in all of this.”
“Come on, come on,” I hiss at the laptop that seems to take forever to start up.
“Deep breaths.”
The screen flickers on and I immediately navigate to Google UK and type in “Lennon Ainsworth, London UK.” A lump grows in my throat. There are several results, the third being Facebook. Deciding it’s my best option, I click it, and I’m rewarded with the page of what appears to be a man in his seventies. Luckily, I’m able to click on various parts of the profile and pull up images. I check the spelling of the name again and click the “About” button. “Sam—”
“I can tell by your tone that you found him.”
“Sam! I found him! This has to be him. He looks like he could be seventy-five. He lives in London. His name is spelled exactly the same.”
“I’m almost home.”
Unable to control my nosiness, I click through picture after picture. I swear I recognize both Estherly and Henry in this man, but worry I’m fooling myself.
“Okay, I’m here,” Sam says.
Within seconds, he’s through my front door and sitting next to me on the couch. He takes my laptop from me as I stare forwards in some weird state of shock.
“Should I call Oma?”
“Not yet. We have to be sure it’s him. We don’t want to get their hopes up for no reason,” he says.
“I’m sure this is him. Look at him, he looks exactly like a combination of Henry and Estherly.”
Sam lifts the laptop and brings it closer to his eyes. “You’re right. He really does. He’s got blue eyes and Estherly’s lips. Henry’s stern chin. The roundness of Estherly’s eyes.”
“What do we do now?”
“We can send him a message?”
I take a moment and don’t answer Sam. I wonder to myself what it would be like to receive a message like that via social media and I shake my head. “No. We can’t do that. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think we need to go to London. This isn’t the kind of news you want to give someone over the Internet or even in a letter. This is the kind of information you give someone face-to-face.”
“London?”
“You think I’m out of my mind, don’t you?”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “We go to London?”
“I can go alone. I’m sorry I—”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it as in, yes, we should go to London. We can use a people finder website to get the address.”
“Can you, with work?”
“Heck, we’ve finished those two big jobs. I trust the crew with what they’re working on now. Yeah, I think I can swing it.”
“I have plenty of money in savings to get us over there,” I say.
“As do I. You won’t be buying my ticket. I’ll be buying yours.”
“This is no time to argue about who’s paying for what. Let’s pool our funds and make this happen. How soon can you leave?”
“Let me call my crew leader and make sure he feels he can handle overseeing things. I’ll be right back.”
I’m still in a state of numbness when Sam comes back into the living room.
“Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe we found him.”
“I knew we would. Deep in my heart, I knew it all along,” he says.
“I hoped, and I prayed.”
“Looks like your prayers were answered and we’re off to London.”
Once we’re settled into our hotel room in London, Sam and I head out to the address we found for Lennon Meir Ainsworth. The three days we waited before we left Seattle and the direct nine-and-a-half-hour flight was long enough for me to wait till I met Lennon face to face.
Sam and I take a taxi to the address and don’t speak much on the way. I have so many nerves built up that I fall silent.
When we pull up in front of the house we suspect is Lennon’s, a bundle of confused emotions fills my chest. I worry that he won’t receive us well or that he won’t be around.
“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”
I nod and shoot him a nervous smile. “What if he slams the door in our faces? What if he thinks we’re freaks?”
“Then we’ll handle it from there. We can slip a letter under the door or something. But, if we don’t walk up these stairs, then we’ll never know what could happen.”
I nod again. “You’re right. Let’s do this. I didn’t drag you all the way to London to stand here, being too scared.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Taking the lead, I stride up the stairs, determined. I knock and wait. I knock again, and no
thing. Turning, I look at Sam and frown.
“Give it a minute.”
Finally, the door opens. Standing in the doorway is the man I believe is Estherly’s son. I gulp and smile.
“Can I help you?” the man asks.
“Hi, sir. I’m sorry to disturb you. Are you Lennon Meir Ainsworth?”
With a puzzled expression, the man nods.
“Hi, I’m Ferrin Frazier,” I say, extending my hand. I’d think by now I would be used to showing up on people’s doorsteps unannounced with life-changing news, but it’s not any easier this time than it was when I knocked on Oma’s door back in Virginia.
“How can I help you, miss?”
“I’m not quite sure how to say this, so I’m going to come out and just do it.” I pull Estherly’s diaries out of my bag. I hand two of them to Sam and open the other, revealing a photograph of Estherly. “Sir, this is Estherly Krauss. I’m of the strong belief that she’s your birth mother.”
Lennon’s eyes widen. With a motion of his head and outstretched hands, he asks to see the photograph up close. I hand it over and watch as he scans the image.
“My boyfriend,” I place my hand on Sam’s arm, “found her diaries in his attic. We’ve been reading them for over a month. I was able to locate Estherly’s family and confirm they indeed belonged to her.”
Lennon looks up from the photograph. “Please, come in,” he says.
Looking at Sam, I smile and follow him as he steps into Lennon’s home. Lennon motions for us to have a seat on a couch and we do. Standing, he gazes down at the photograph again and, his hand trembles. I’m not sure if it shakes because of the news I brought him or if it’s due to his age.
“You’ll have to pardon me,” he says. “I’ve searched for my birth parents in the past and was never able to find them. This is so overwhelming.” Peering up from the photo, Lennon stares at me and Sam. “Can I get either of you something to drink? I’m going to get my wife, Eleanor.”
“I wouldn’t mind a water,” Sam says.
“I’m okay,” I say.
Lennon walks out of the room and my muscles tense. Sam takes my hand and gives it a squeeze, and the action helps ease some of my restlessness.
Lennon walks back into the room with a woman around the same age, her gray hair pulled up in a nice bun.
“Hello, I’m Eleanor,” she says, walking over to us and shaking our hands.
We go through the normal polite introductions, and then she and Lennon take seats in high-back chairs, near where Sam and I sit.
“You’re American,” Eleanor says.
“Yes, we’re from Seattle,” Sam says, which I’m glad for because I’m at a complete loss for words. “We were able to discover that the diaries were brought to Seattle by one of Estherly’s husband’s relatives.”
“Is she still with us?” Lennon asks.
Tears brim at the corners of my eyes and I can’t help taking hold of Lennon’s wrist. “I’m sorry. Estherly passed away several years ago.”
The sadness on Lennon’s face rips my heart to shreds and the need to soothe some of his pain overpowers me. “Once the Holocaust was over, she lived a beautiful and happy life. Sir—”
“You can call me Lennon,” he says, with a smile tainted with sorrow.
“Lennon,” I say, and grin. “You have sisters, and your Auntie Oma, who is ninety-six, is still with us. They’re wonderful people. I recently found them in Chesapeake, Virginia. They’ve been looking for you for a very long time. Estherly searched for you her whole life.” I let go of his arm after giving it a reassuring pat.
“How is it that you found my husband?” Eleanor asks.
Sam pipes up, “This article.” He pulls a print-out of the magazine article that led us to Lennon and hands it to Eleanor. “We found it online as we were searching for you,” he says, looking at Lennon.
Lennon leans near his wife and scans the paper.
“This is incredible,” Eleanor says. “We, too, have tried to find Lennon’s birth parents and never got anywhere.”
“I’m sorry we showed up on your doorstep unannounced. I found you on social media but felt it better that I bring you this information face-to-face,” I say.
“You flew all the way to the UK to tell me about my birth mother?”
“We sure did,” I say.
“Thank you,” Lennon says, then sighs. “I’m confused. I was told that my birth mother’s last name was Faust.”
I nod. “That would be confusing. You see, your birth father’s last name was Faust. Henry Faust was his name. Estherly and Henry weren’t married, but when she took you to the Kubis family, she gave you your father’s last name, not thinking to give her own surname of Krauss. The account is actually all here in this diary,” I say, and hand him the black diary. “Inside the diary, you’ll find typed sheets. I took the liberty of translating the diaries for you.”
“All these years I’ve been searching for an Estherly Faust,” Lennon says, in a daze.
My heart breaks for him. Something as simple as a last name is what kept Lennon from finding his birth mother. One small choice on Estherly’s part that terrible night led to a lifetime of heartache.
“Your mother loved you very much. She was a young Jewish girl who escaped the ghetto when she was pregnant with you,” I say.
“And, that story is in this book?” Eleanor asks, running her fingers over the diary as Lennon holds it.
Lennon shakes his head. “I knew my birth mother was Jewish and gave me up to save me from the Nazis. I knew, or thought I knew, her name. Honestly, all this time, over seventy-five years, I assumed that she died during the Holocaust, and that was why I could never find her. I only wish the information in the article had come out before she passed away.”
“Me, too,” I say, in my most sympathetic tone. “Your family…”
Lennon stares at me with a wide grin when he hears the words, “your family.”
I smile, too. “You have a wonderful, large family, eager to find you. I haven’t told them that I located you, yet. We wanted to make sure it was really you and that you were okay with us telling them before we gave them the news.”
Lennon looks at Eleanor, puts the diary and photo of Estherly down on a coffee table, and then takes his wife into his arms. They both break into tears, and I’m left feeling as though I should leave the room.
They part, and Lennon wipes wetness from his cheeks onto a tissue that Eleanor hands him. “I apologize. This is an extremely emotional moment for me. I’ve wanted to find my birth parents since I knew I was adopted.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Sam says. “To be perfectly honest, Ferrin and I are extremely invested in your mother’s story, and finding you is a dream come true for both of us.”
“Oh, dear,” Eleanor says, standing. “I forgot to grab your water.” She rushes out of the room.
“Lennon,” I say, resting a hand on his knee. “Would you like to meet your family in the United States?”
“I would love nothing more,” he says.
“I have pictures of them on my phone,” I say, taking my palm from his leg and reaching into my purse for my cellphone. I stand and walk near the chair where he sits. Eleanor comes back into the room with a water and we take our time going through each image and I explain to them who everyone is.
“What about my birth father?” Lennon asks.
“Henry was killed in the ghetto. See,” Sam says, “he was a Nazi soldier, and there was an uproar in Łódź — that’s the ghetto Estherly was deported to — and Henry died in it.”
I add, “I think I should let you know that your mother and father were deeply in love.”
“A Jewish girl in love with a Nazi…” Eleanor says.
“Henry was a good man. He provided for and protected your mother as best as he could in the situation they found themselves in,” I say.
Lennon stands and paces the floor of his modest living room. “This is all so much to take in.”
/>
“I understand,” Sam says.
“I’d love to leave the diaries and translations here with you and give you some time to take this all in,” I say, rising from the couch. I look at Sam and signal to him that it’s time we left.
“That would be good,” Lennon says. “Would you come back tomorrow?” he asks, and my heart fills with joy.
“We would love to. We’re going to do a bit of sight-seeing tomorrow. What time would you like us to come by?”
“Why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow night?” Eleanor interjects.
“We would love that,” Sam says.
Before Lennon escorts us to the door, I place Estherly’s diaries and the transcripts I typed on the table.
“Thank you, Ferrin. And you, too, Sam. Thank you for searching for me and finding me. You’ve brought me great joy,” Lennon says.
Taking his hands into mine, I shake them. “It’s truly my pleasure.”
“Thank you for inviting us into your home,” Sam says.
“We’ll see you tomorrow around 7:00 PM,” Eleanor says. “That should give you plenty of time to see some of what our city has to offer.”
“Perfect,” I say. Standing on their stairway, I turn and face Lennon. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?” I ask.
Lennon opens his arms, and I fall into them. I squeeze him tight, unable to believe I’m holding Estherly’s son.
“Thank you,” he whispers and then lets go of me, flashing a wide smile.
Sam and I walk down the steps and head down the street.
“Wow,” Sam says. “That was—”
“Crazy. Incredible. Mind blowing.”
“Yeah, all that and more. We did it, Fer. We found Meir.”
“There’s got to be a pub or something nearby where we can go celebrate. Can you find something on your phone?”
Sam and I walk down the street as he searches for somewhere for us to go. I’m lost in my thoughts and reeling from finding Meir.
Finally choosing a pub, we call a taxi and have it take us to the bar.
The next day, Sam and I wake up early and visit all the hot tourist spots in London. We ride The London Eye, tour the Tower of London, ride a double decker bus, and see Big Ben and Parliament, but nothing excites me as much as going back to visit Lennon and Eleanor.
Remember the Stars Page 24
