Chapter Text
August 2010
The first two weeks after moving to New York were a blur of getting to classes, organizing everything, talking to Professors. As big as the University back at Hamburg had always seemed to Ela, it was tiny compared to Columbia. So she spent a lot of her time on campus, trying to navigate in a place that was so much bigger, so different from everything that she had known up until then.
The apartment that she had been able to rent and fix with her brother, a month before she came to the US, was in Queens, a distance away from University. It was a nice enough flat. A living room, a bed room, small kitchen, tiny bathroom with a shower. The first night she hadn't been able to sleep, the flat, however nice it was, felt too quiet without her family. The second night had been the same. By night three she had let her window open slightly, which had let some of the noises of neighbors in. With the background noises of people she had finally been able to fall asleep.
Ela had felt quite a bit lost, in the beginning. Lost at her new apartment. Lost between the unknown faces at university. Lost in the subway and on buses. Lost on the streets of a new city. Lost trying to find class rooms and lecture halls. Ela had stayed in the library of Columbia for a long time most of those days. As lost as she felt, being surrounded by books always managed to make her feel at home.
As she was hardly around to sleep, Ela had not seen any of her neighbors, except Mrs. Muller, a widow in her late 80s, whose family was from Germany. As fate had it the older woman had never learned the language and seemed – just a bit too – fascinated with the young muslim girl, who was so fluent in it. She had invited Ela over for tea one day, asking her to read and translate some of the old letters, that were sent between her parents, she had kept.
On Friday, of her second week, Ela walked up the stairs – Mrs. Muller always took the elevator and Ela really wasn't too keen on translating and reading, after a long day at university of translating and reading – to her flat. Once she was on the right floor, she grabbed the keys out of her pants pocket and turned the corner.
Almost everything about the long corridor looked the same as it had that morning, when she had left in a rush, having overslept. Door next to door, old carpet on the floor, a few potted plants here and there.
Everything except the young boy that was sitting on the floor next to her flat. Ela assumed that he was a boy, judging by his lean frame and short, dark hair, though she couldn't be absolutely sure. She couldn't make out the face, that was resting on crossed arms, atop knees, that were pulled towards the body.
Ela walked up to her door, the person did not move. The woman put the key in but hesitated. She looked down at the small frame again. The person looked very small and maybe a bit lost.
"Hey, Potter. You okay?", Ela said. Her mind had supplied her with an image of a similar young, small frame, with a head of dark hair.
"It's Peter actually", came a muffled reply, after a few moments.
“Oh”, Ela said, a bit taken aback at the reply. “Are you alright?”
"Splendid", Peter said, not lifting his head from his knees.
Ela let her heavy bag, filled with too many books, slide from her shoulder to the floor, and chuckled.
"Do people still say that over here?”, she asked.
Peter looked up at her for a moment. A young face with big eyes, behind a pair of glasses. His looked tired and a little red. His hair was curly and a bit messy.
He put his face back down on his knees, his voice was muffled again, "You're not from here."
"No, I'm from Germany", Ela said softly. “I moved here for university.”
Peter looked up again, glancing at the navy scarf around her head for a moment. She looked up as well.
Sometimes she forgot about the Hijab, not really forgot about it, it just was not always on her mind. She had once compared it to someone commenting on a nice shirt. That moment of looking down to check which one it is. However a shirt usually wasn't as polarizing as the simple piece of fabric around her head.
There was no judgment in the boys eyes.
"That's cool”, Peter said, his eyes on hers now, they were sparkling. “I've always wanted to go to Berlin. It seems kind of amazing."
"It's alright. Huge compared to Hamburg. Tiny compared to New York, of course.", Ela said. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Why are you sitting alone outside?"
"Forgot my keys", Peter replied, but he was pointedly looking at the one of the potted plants in the corner, avoiding her eyes.
"Do you want to wait inside for your parents?"
His eyes flashed to hers and back again, an emotion was there and gone in an instant, before Ela could make out what it is.
"Well, you are kind of a stranger.”, the young boy said, looking at his own hands now.
"That is true”, Ela said, trying to think of a way to help. “You could call them if you want.”
Peter's eyes met hers again, the emotion in them bigger now.
“Phone's dead.”, he mumbled and let his face flop back onto his arms. The short talk seemed to have taken all of his energy.
"Okay", was all that Ela found herself saying. She turned back to her door, flipped the key and went inside. In the kitchen, she put her bag down, took two cans of soda from the fridge and three packs of M&Ms from one of her cupboards.
When Ela walked back outside, Peter didn't look like he had moved at all. She put one of the cans and two of the M&Ms next to the young boy and sat on the floor across from him.
“My name is Ela”, she said and opened her own chocolate.
Peter looked back up at her and then at the chocolate and drink she had left next to him. He waited until Ela ate a few of the chocolates, then proceeded to eat the whole thing in a few seconds.
"You came back", he said, it sounded like a question.
"Well, I didn't wanna miss the fun", Ela said, opening her soda and gesturing at the silent corridor with it.
Peter huffed a laugh.
"Also, I feel kind of bad leaving you alone out here.", she said, looking at him. She took her glasses off and cleaned them with the hem of her shirt.
"I'm not a child", he said, his voice high, sounding a lot like a child.
Ela didn't reply, she pushed her glasses back on her nose and took a sip.
"Do you want to call someone?", she asked.
"What time is it?", Peter asked back.
Ela took her phone from her pants' pocket, shuffling a bit with the soda and the chocolate, and looked at it. A few messages from her brother about a new Star Wars movie, some messages from her mother about one of Ela's friends, who was apparently getting married and a missed call from a classmate.
"Almost eight.", Ela said, looking back up.
"Ben should be here soon", the boy said, his shoulders seemed to relax a bit at that thought. He opened his own soda and drank a few sips of the sweet drink. The effect of the sugar was almost immediate, Peter looked a lot more awake than he had, when Ela had first arrived.
Ela looked around, trying to think of a topic to talk about, and found her eyes land on the small Star Wars pins on the boy's bag.
“Hey, have you heard about that new Star Wars movie coming out soon?”, she asked.
Ela felt like laughing, when his eyes sparked again and the boy started to talk about all things space and movies with a lot of passion.
Peter was excitable, his eyes lighting up more and more, once he lost the initial hesitancy. He was a bit like a waterfall in the way he talked. Jumping from topic to topic. Talking about movies he had seen with Ben and the last science fair they had gone to together. Talking about school and his best friend and how they would build Legos together. Talking about May being an amazing nurse and about her (not too amazing) cooking skills.
For a moment Ela wondered why Peter would talk about his parents using their first names, but she soon shrugged it off. It was not something that was unheard of back at home.
The other thing that made her feel a bit uneasy was the thought of whether the boy always talked so much about his life with strangers. Ela really hoped that he didn't. Technically they weren't strangers any more. Still, thinking of the bright eyed Boy sharing so much about his life made her insides pull together. She contemplatet interrupting him, telling him to please be careful, but, even if she could have got a word in, he was just so very endearing. Instead she made a mental note to tell him later.
Ela put her chin in her hand and listened to his waterfall of words.
The few pauses he did take – to chew some of the chocolate, or take a sip or sometimes when he had talked for too long without pause, to take a gulp of air – were very short. The boy reminded her a lot of her brother when he had been younger. The thought made her smile.
Peter was telling her about the new Lego set him and his friend were building, when a man turned around the corner, with a bag of what appeared to be groceries hanging from one shoulder.
Ela could imagine the man looking a lot like Peter, maybe forty years ago. They looked alike in that way that relatives tend to. His hair, which was similar in color and also a bit curly, was graying on top, sides already looking very gray. They had the same mouth, same nose and the same kind eyes.
He stopped walking when he saw the unusual pair, sitting across from each other, a look of worry crossed his features.
"Hey Peter, what happened, bud?", the man asked.
"Oh, hey Ben!", Peter replied, jumping up from his spot on the floor and smiling at the man. "I was just telling Ellie about that new Lego set Ned's mom got him."
"Ellie?"
All of a sudden Ela felt like an intruder. Talking to Peter was easy. No matter that she hardly knew the boy. However maybe it did matter to his dad.
"Well, it's Ela actually. I'm your new neighbor", she said getting up and dusting her backside off a bit.
"I'm Ben.", he said, cocking his head slightly, with a small smile. He glanced at her Hijab and gave her a nod, he did not reach out his hand to shake hers. "Good to meet you, Ela."
“You too”, Ela said. She turned back to Peter. “Good talk, Potter. Take care of yourself. See you around.”
Peter gave a thumbs up and a wide grin. “You too, Ellie.”
Ela couldn't help but smile back at the two, before she turned her back to them and opened her door.
The last thing she heard was a soft: "See you, Ellie."
And a worried: "What happened at school?"
Ela closed the door quietly behind herself and went straight to bed.
Lying there she messaged her mother and her class mate and sent a voice message to her brother, telling him that she missed him and maybe they could go watch the movie together, when she was back home.
Ela noticed that her small apartment, miles and miles away from Germany, had started to feel a little more like home as well.