Marta held onto all the hope she had left, and just prayed Ezra would accept her presence. That he would let her into his world, even if it was baby steps. Marta hoped that if she could get closer to him, that he would be more comfortable around her and she could find better ways of helping him. And in return, Marta would get to be around him. Ezra’s soul and being was engraved in Marta’s heart now. She wanted to know everything about him. She wanted to run her fingers over all the skin on his body, scarred or not. She wanted to give him sunshine in darkness. She wanted to be his everything. 

But that dream, as newly formed as it was, came crashing down when she felt Ezra turn her to face the direction she was suppose to go and starting walking ahead of her. She froze for a second, unable to process how quickly everything just changed. She didn’t want to follow, yet at the same time, she didn’t want to leave his side. So she started to try and catch up, her heels clicking with every step. She felt herself slip a couple of times on the wet pavement, but she was able to stay standing.

Marta heard Ezra say something, but it was so quiet and not directed at her, so she wasn’t sure what he did say. Maybe it was to himself? Marta was definitely guilty of talking to herself a lot; being an only child meant having a lot of imaginary friends growing up. But just as quickly as Ezra had started to move, he suddenly stopped. Marta took a moment to get her bearings and saw they were walking in the opposite direction of her school, but were now on her “side of town”. 

Ezra mentioning he didn’t know where to take her, Marta was about to retort and say she didn’t want to go home, but he continued to speak. It seemed all the questions he was asking were rhetorical because he didn’t give her a chance to answer. Her eyebrows raised when he said she gave him his first kiss. How could a handsome, charming guy like Ezra have never been kissed before? She imagined girls lining up in the bakery just for the chance. 

Marta didn’t even care that he didn’t know her name, though that should eventually be remedied, but for now, names weren’t important. Though Ezra was the most special name she has ever heard. Marta was about to comment and say that her life didn’t matter, at least, not in comparison to his. He probably had so many more reasons to live. He had a family who needed him, a neighborhood who depended on him, and a battle to fight against the rest of the country. What was Marta’s purpose? To play a piano; like that was going to make a difference. 

Marta finally had so much she wanted to say, to try and make Ezra understand why she did the things she did. But she noticed Ezra’s eyes were no longer on her and were looking at the surroundings. Marta took a moment to look and try and see what he saw, and it didn’t take her even half a second to realize. The propaganda. It was plastered on every inch of real estate in this part of the city. Swastikas covering every inch of bare wall. The sight made Marta sick to the stomach.

Being sheltered, and living in her own world sometimes, Marta had been completely oblivious to these signs, even though she walked by them on a daily basis. She subconsciously chose not to see them because of the awfulness. Now it was different. She would never forget these images. They would haunt her dreams. 

She turned to apologize to Ezra and to say they could turn around, but she noticed Ezra’s mind was somewhere else. He was in a catatonic state, repeating the same phrase over and over… [i]I’m not safe[/i].

And the part that scared Marta half to death was, he was right. He wasn’t safe, especially not here. If something were to happen, Ezra would be the target. He is the enemy here. And Marta would not be able to save him. Knowing she had to get him out of here, she looked around and saw a cab parked on the corner. Taking Ezra’s hand, she encouraged him to walk with her and over to the cab. She opened the door and sort of pushed Ezra in, without actually shoving him. She followed him, and sat down, closing the door behind her.

The driver looked at her through his rear-view mirror, and then she saw his eyes flicker to Ezra who was shaking and still mumbling to himself. Marta briefly panicked. Would the cabbie drive them or hurt them? And also where were they going to go? Marta knew Ezra would not want to go to her house, so she supposed the best option was to go back to the bakery. 

She looked at the cab driver and said “Corner of Nederman and Comstock.”

Comstock was the road she had originally been on that lead to her uncle’s. She is glad she remembered what street the bakery was on.

It was a short commute, but it was definitely farther than she thought. How long had they been walking? When the cab stopped, Marta reached into her purse and took out the necessary coins, plus a generous tip, and handed them to the driver. Hopefully the tip would be a hint to this man to keep his mouth shut.

She opened the door and got out, reaching in to take Ezra’s hands and lead him out. She moved them the few extra feet until they stood in front of the bakery once more. Marta looked around and noticed there was another door off to the side that appeared to lead up to an apartment above the bakery. Marta had a hunch that was where Ezra and his family lived. So walking with him over to that door, her hand still clutching his, she turned and looked at him. So much worry in her eyes.

“Ezra, do you have the key?” she asked, hoping Ezra was aware enough to know where he was and that it would be best for them to get inside as quickly as possible.