Josef

Josef stuck his head out of the bombed out building he was using as his home. All he could see was other bombed out

buildings. A few of the buildings had a wall or two standing but most of them were a pile of broken stones and bricks. The

rain made it even worse. Every street was muddy, the cellar of almost every building was half full of water. Josef was lucky

to have found one building in which the cellar was almost dry.

Ever since the fighting began three months ago there had been nothing but trouble for Josef. Why did people want to

go around killing each other, anyway? If he had his way he would take all the guns and throw them in the sea. Maybe the

soldiers too. There was little fighting at present in the city where Josef lived but there was destruction everywhere. He had

lost all track of anyone he knew. The university where his father had taught was badly damaged and deserted. The same

was true of the school he had attended The teachers and university professors had all disappeared. Once in a while he

saw other students from his school wandering the streets as he did but they never spoke to him.

It was now April and it had been weeks since Josef last saw his family. The memory of his mother and father lying there

covered with blood still brought tears to his eyes. He was sure they were dead. As for his brothers, Milos , who was 12, and

his brother, Edouard, 15, he was certain they were dead too and his beautiful little sister, Anya, who was only 7. He missed

them very much.

It had been a happy family. Papa loved music and was professor of music at the university. Mama played the piano

and the violin. Each of his brothers was learning to play the violin and showed signs of becoming good musicians too.

Edouard had already given three recitals and had been highly praised. Anya had started piano lessons only a year ago and

Josef, who was 9, two years ago. Josef too had been praised by his music teacher, who taught at the university with Papa.

Professor Milosevich had told Josef he was an excellent student and was learning much faster than any student he had ever

had. Milos was the only family member who was not musically inclined, but his art work had already drawn high acclaim.

They all loved music and beautiful art. Each room of the house had been designed personally by Mama. There were

beautiful paintings on the walls, including one by Milos, and beautiful carpets on the floor. Each piece of furniture had been

selected with loving care. All of it was destroyed when the bomb struck.

Papa spoke English, and several other languages. This gift he tried to pass on to the children by conversing in English

for one entire day each week. He also did the same with French. This way they would all be able to speak their native

Croatian and also converse in other languages. Many of their books were also in French or English. These they were all

encouraged to read.

Josef was hungry, always hungry. Finding food that wasn’t spoiled, and water fit to drink, was a constant problem, that

and the rats. There were rats everywhere, in the buildings, in the streets, especially in the old subway tunnels. Josef tried

living in the subway when he first found himself without a home but there were so many rats he was afraid to go to sleep.

He left his cellar and crossed the street to a market that was also partially destroyed. Here he had previously found

tidbits of food left behind by other searchers. Once again he was successful; in a dark corner of a bottom shelf he found a

small jar of olives. He didn’t like olives, but food was food. They tasted so good he ate every one.

The next place he tried was in back of a restaurant where he sometimes found a few scraps others had missed. This

time luck wasn’t with him. As he continued his search he walked through block after block of destroyed buildings and soon

arrived at the river. Maybe a fisherman, either along the river or at the seashore, would have some extra food he could

spare. There were always many fishermen out trying to supplement their own meager fare.

Other than the fishermen few people were on the streets. The ones Josef saw scurried along quickly from one place to

another trying to reach their destination without encountering militia or marauding gangs. Josef didn’t try to hide, he was

only a child and was safe from the gangs as long as he didn’t have anything worth stealing.

Two fishermen waved to him as he walked but didn’t offer him any food. Josef had decided a long time ago that he

wouldn’t ask, but if he was offered anything he wouldn’t refuse.

Most of the fishing boats were at sea. The ones still in the harbor were in various stages of disrepair, either through

neglect or through extensive damage caused by artillery fire. There were no pleasure boats left, their owners had departed

months ago at the onset of war.

One boat in particular caught Josef’s eye. It was a boat similar in design to to one his grandfather had owned before

his death three years before. Josef looked around and, seeing no one, clambered aboard. Perhaps he could find some

food. He quickly discovered he wasn’t the first person with that idea, all the obvious places had been picked clean. But he

knew his way around a boat like this much better than most people did. He inspected all of the usual storage spots and

then began a more intensive search in places only people familiar with the boat would be ware of.

A small cubbyhole behind a bulkhead at the foot of the bunk was the first place Josef looked. This was where

Grandpapa hid his whiskey bottles so Grandmama wouldn’t find them. Grandpapa would sneak down here to take a nip

when he thought no one was looking. One time Josef was taking a nap in the bunk and woke up to catch Grandpapa in the

act. The old man grinned at him and put a finger to his lips to ask for Josef’s silence. Josef grinned back.

When there was nothing to be found in this spot Josef looked under the bunk, lifting the mattress up to reveal a

compartment under the bed. Nothing there! Success finally came to him when he raised the hatch leading to the bilge. The

owner, or perhaps someone else familiar with the boat’s construction, had built a waterproof storage locker there and filled

it with canned goods of all kinds. Josef was overwhelmed at his good fortune, there was enough food to last him a month.

The problem now was what to do with it. He couldn’t cart it away, not all at once. And if he did, where would he store it?

It was safer on the boat than anyplace Josef could think of. Of course, someone else might discover it and remove it but

that was a chance he would have to take. He could come back at night unseen and replenish his stock as needed. That

way others wouldn’t become curious about what he was doing. Josef didn’t think of this as stealing, not under the present

circumstances. If he thought of it at all he thought of it as getting to it before others did.

Josef thought about making the boat his home but decided he wouldn’t, at least not at this time. Too many comings

and goings would become obvious. Later on, he wished that he had; when he returned to the boat three days later the

cache of food was gone.

Josef always missed his family. He also missed his music, and going to school. Before the fighting began school was

one of the things he enjoyed most. He was always learning something new and was a good student. And he missed the

music that his family was constantly involved with. They were all musicians, or learning to be musicians. Many times Josef

and his family attended concerts at the university, or the opera house, or at Symphony Hall.

As Josef walked the city streets now he listened for the sound of music but seldom heard any. Once in a while he heard

music coming from a tavern and, even though it wasn’t the kind of music his family liked, he sat outside and listened. Some

of it was good music, some not very good. He listened anyway.

One day Josef discovered a restaurant he had not seen before that appeared to be doing a good business. As it was

near the harbor it was visited regularly by fishermen, particularly in late afternoon when they returned from their day at sea.

Josef found where the rear door was located and hid among the garbage cans waiting for someone to come out to dispose

of food that was still edible. As he waited a gruff looking man wearing an apron came out of the door carrying a large pot.

To dump the contents of the pot he headed for the garbage can behind which Josef was hiding.

“What are you doing there?” cried the man as soon as he saw Josef.

“I’m looking for food, sir,” Josef replied.

“Is this where you look for food, in garbage cans?”

“Yes, sir. There’s no food anywhere else and I have to eat.”

“How would you like to work in my restaurant and eat good food for a change?” the man asked.

“I would be pleased to do that, sir, just show me what you want me to do.”

“Come inside and wash yourself first, then I’ll put you to work. I don’t want my customers seeing a dirty ragamuffin; have

you cleaner clothes you can wear?”

“No sir. I don’t have any other clothes.”

Josef followed the man into the restaurant. Here the man showed him a bathroom where he could wash himself. While

Josef was washing the man came in with some old, but clean clothes and handed them to Josef.

“Try these on, they were my son’s when he was your age.”

Josef couldn’t believe his good luck. An hour ago he was a starving, homeless waif scrounging for food in garbage

cans and now, all of a sudden, he had clean clothes and food. This was wonderful. All he had to do was wash dishes and

pots and pans three times a day, and sweep the floor of the restaurant. Once a week, he also had to drag out a bucket and

wash each floor in the place.

The proprietor, whose name was Anton, was a stickler for cleanliness. On two occasions he wasn’t satisfied with

Josef’s work and made him do it over. Once it was a large pot that had some food stuck in the bottom, the other time Anton

wasn't pleased with the cleanliness of the kitchen floor and Josef had to scrub it on his hands and knees. Anton was a strict

taskmaster and, at times, tended to bully Josef. Other than that he treated Josef well.

Josef was quite content with his life at the restaurant. He had a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in, although it was

only a pad on the floor in the store room. He also had plenty of food to eat. There was a piano in the corner of the

restaurant which customers were invited to play. Josef got permission from Anton to practice when there were no

customers. When one of the customers played it was usually modern music or jazz. Josef’ training was in classical music

but he tried playing some of the jazz he had heard and found he liked that too. Anton told him he played well.

Then, almost a month after Josef had fallen into this idyllic existence, something happened to change everything. Anton

got drunk and became abusive to Josef. When the boy didn't move quickly enough to perform a menial task Anton reached

out and cuffed him, so hard that it almost knocked Josef out. For the next two weeks Josef had a very tender lump on his

jaw and a bruise that covered half his face. When Anton sobered up he apologized and told Josef it would not happen

again.

But two weeks later Anton went out drinking with some friends. When he returned to the restaurant he woke Josef,

shook him savagely and insisted that Josef had hidden his whiskey bottle. When Josef denied it Anton became furious and

was about to strike Josef again when Josef broke from his gasp. He ran to the store room, picked up a small backpack

Anton had given him to keep his personal belongings in, and left the restaurant. Once again he was homeless.

As it was late at night Josef found an alley to sleep in close to the restaurant; fortunately, it wasn't raining. Even so, it

was one of the most miserable nights he had experienced since he first lost his home and family. What little sleep he was

able to get was interrupted several times by rats crawling on him, once by a cat chasing the rats, and once by another

homeless person seeking shelter.

The following day Josef returned to the harbor, thinking he would make his home on the old boat he had discovered. To

his disappointment the boat was no longer there. When he asked a fisherman what had happened to the boat he was told

that the harbor-master had declared the boat a public danger and had it towed out to sea and sunk.

He returned to his nomadic existence. He slept in a dry cellar if one was available at the end of a day, finding tidbits of

food behind restaurants and occasionally finding fruit or vegetables left behind when a field or tree was harvested.

Several weeks after he left his home at the restaurant Josef met another boy who was also roaming the streets. Stefan,

who was 12, was taller and broader than Josef and had been homeless for a longer time. The two decided to team up and

share their knowledge and also the food they acquired.

Their first night together Stefan shared a secret with Josef. He motioned Josef to come close and look inside the

backpack in which he carried his personal gear. To Josef’s astonishment Stefan had a revolver in there.

“Where did you find that?” Josef asked.

‘I saw it under a counter in a store I was in and took it,” Stefan replied. “I’ve learned to shoot it too. Want to try?”

“No thank you,” answered Josef, who hated guns. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Protect myself,” was the answer. “I’ve seen a lot of big bullies steal from boys like me and made up my mind they were

not going to steal from me.”

“Would you shoot them?”

“I would if I had to.”

Josef shuddered at the thought. He knew he could never shoot anyone. He wasn’t sure he could shoot an animal.

Papa had taken him rabbit hunting one time when Josef was seven. He had cried when Papa shot a rabbit.

Stefan and Josef made a good team. Each of them knew parts of the city unknown to the other and, even in the

sections each knew well, the other found sources of food not previously discovered. As a result, they both ate better than

they had in recent weeks. Also, Stefan had discovered an undamaged room in an old, almost completely destroyed

apartment building. There was a door with a lock and a key. This was Stefan’s home and became Josef’s.

One day, about two weeks after Josef and Stefan met, they were exploring an alley when they came upon an old man

pushing a cart. The cart seemed heavy, as the old man was having difficulty controlling it Josef, trying to be friendly,

offered to help the man push the cart to wherever he was heading. The man politely declined his help. To Josef’s

amazement Stefan pulled out his gun, pointed it at the man and ordered him to give them any food he had. Josef was

horrified.

“You told me the gun was to defend yourself with,” he exclaimed.

“The gun is to help me stay alive,” Stefan replied. “If the old man has food he should give it to us. He’s going to die

soon anyway.”

“I don’t want any food you get with a gun. I’d like to help the man, not shoot him.”

“Oh, you’re Mr. Do-Good,” Stefan shot back at him. But he did lower the gun, then turned to the man and said, “Go, old

man. This time you get away but next time I won’t be talked out of it.”

For the rest of the day the two spoke barely a word. Josef was upset at Stefan’s proclaimed intent to use his gun. It

was an attitude he had never before encountered.

He had been raised to be sensitive to the needs of others and to lend a helping hand. The idea of taking something by

force was repugnant to him. He decided to break up his partnership with Stefan that evening.

When they arrived back at their “home” he informed Stefan of his decision. Stefan merely shrugged.

Again, for a period of time, Josef was a nomad, wandering from alley to alley and from one bombed out building to

another. Finding food was becoming more difficult.

About a week after he left Stefan Josef was making the rounds of his usual restaurants when he heard a noise coming

from the vicinity of one of the garbage cans. As he neared the can a mangy looking dog came out from behind it and ran a

short distance away. Here it stopped and looked back at Josef. Josef immediately felt sorry for the dog. ‘The poor thing’s

starving to death,’ he thought. ‘Maybe I can find some food for him.’

In one of the cans was a fly-covered bone that looked appetizing to Josef, even with the flies on it. Josef dug the bone

out of the can, knelt down and held it out to the dog. Here pooch,” he called. “Come get the bone I’ve got for you.”

The dog, at first just lay there trembling, then got up and timidly approached Josef. When he was still a few feet away

Josef dropped the bone at his feet and again called. The dog lowered itself to the ground and gradually inched its way

forward until it could reach the bone. It then picked up the bone and crawled out of Josef’s reach before attempting to eat it.

Josef found a relatively fly free piece of meat in another can and sat down to make a meal of it. He also discovered a

packet by the door of the restaurant that apparently had been left by a delivery man. To Josef’s joy the packet contained

several smaller packets of corn, oats, and rice cereal. These he stowed away in his pack.

When he left the alley the dog followed at a distance. Each time Josef stopped the dog stopped about 20 feet away.

No amount of coaxing could encourage him to come closer. This went on for several days. When he stopped for food the

dog edged a little closer. Josef always looked for food for the dog before trying to find a meal for himself. Each time a

tidbit was offered the dog approached to within a few feet, then snatched at the food and moved away again.

Finally, after almost a week of this, the dog had enough courage to accept his meal from Josef’s hand. From that time

on he showed no fear and stayed by Josef’s side wherever he went. During the week the dog lost his hungry look. Its coat

no longer looked mangy but was beginning to take on a luster. Josef decided to call him “Ami,” which Josef remembered

from his early language lessons at home was French for friend.

Soon Josef and Ami were inseparable. Finding food was never easy but Ami helped by leading Josef to places he had

not been aware of. Ami also became very protective; anytime anyone approached Ami growled to let them know he was

protecting Josef’s territory.

During his explorations Josef frequently encountered people he had met at one time or another during his wanderings.

At such times each of them exchanged what news they had of other members of their nomadic group. Never did they

discuss the war or the fighting going on; that was a world they wished to avoid as much as possible. One item of news

saddened Josef greatly. His former friend Stefan had been killed when a gang of roving thieves took his gun away from

and shot him with it. Josef was grieved by the news and thankful he had broken up his partnership with Stefan. Otherwise,

he might have suffered the same fate.

Josef and Ami discovered a dry cellar close to the harbor and also close to the area most productive for obtaining food.

Here Josef was able to make a bed for himself and Ami from straw and other flotsam he gathered. By adding various

boxes and other assorted odds and ends this became the most livable place he had lived in since losing his family. Josef’s

only concern was whether the cellar would stay dry when the winter rains arrived, which could be any time in the next month.

He remembered previous winters along the coast were not cold but were extremely stormy.

In late October Josef observed his 10^th birthday by lighting a candle he had found and attaching it to a crust of bread

obtained that morning at a nearby restaurant. The occasion made him think of the happy times birthdays had been with his

family. There was always a cake with candles, and children’s games to play, and music. As a birthday gift Papa usually

presented him with a book he wanted, or some small art object he had thought beautiful. The memories brought tears to

Josef’s eyes.

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