My Suitcase and I

Juli W. Rose

My Suitcase and I

The suitcase was heavier than I remembered.

Not because of what was inside it, but because of everything that wasn't.

I shifted it from one hand to the other as I followed the narrow mountain path toward Switzerland. The leather handle dug into my palm. Behind me, Germany disappeared into the darkness, along with the war that had chased us from home.

I didn't look back. 

I was too focused on not dropping my heavy suitcase. 

Mama always said I packed too much. Three dresses for a weekend trip. Two books when one would do. Extra ribbons. Extra shoes.

Now my entire life fits inside a single suitcase.

Or at least the pieces of it I had been allowed to keep.

There were seven sensible things in my suitcase and one completely foolish thing.

Mama knew about the sensible things.

The foolish thing was hidden inside my favorite book.

I had my clothes, of course. Two dresses, three shirts, a sweater, and a pair of shoes that were already getting too small. Mama said I would grow into new ones eventually.

I wasn't sure where "eventually" was.

There was a photograph of my family taken the summer before everything changed. Papa's smile was crooked because he had been laughing at something just before the picture was taken.

There was my collection of ribbons, red, green, and my blue ribbon, though I hadn't worn that one in months.

There was a music box that only played half a song before getting stuck. I used to fall asleep to it at night. It plays "Veronika, der Lenz ist da".

There was my favorite book, its corners bent from being read too many times, and the cover of it is barely hanging on anymore. 

And inside that book was the secret thing, foolish to some but important to me. 

A letter. Not the sort of letter adults worried about.

Just a letter from a boy. His name was Norbert.

I know what you're thinking. Of all the things to carry across a mountain, I chose a letter from a boy named Norbert.

But it wasn't my fault he had such an unfortunate name.

I carefully unfolded the letter as I walked, keeping one eye on the path and the other on the paper. The folds were soft now from being opened so many times.

The handwriting leaned slightly to the left, like it was trying to run off the page.

“Dear Brigette,

I know this is stupid, but I wanted to tell you something before summer break.

Please don't show this to Elsa because she tells everyone everything.

First, I still think I can run faster than you.

Second, I only let you win at marbles that one time.

Third, I think your braids are prettier than Elsa's.

Please don't be mad.

Your friend,

Norbert

P.S. I know this probably means I'm supposed to say I love you or something, but if anyone ever found this we would get made fun of forever.”

I smiled before I could stop myself. The letter was ridiculous. Norbert was ridiculous. And yet I folded it carefully and slipped it back inside my book.

I hope one day I do see him again.

I could be playing another stupid game of marbles with him right now instead of carrying a heavy, stupid brown suitcase across a mountain at midnight.

But instead, Norbert was back in Germany.

And I was here.

With a suitcase and too small shoes. 

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