In My Life

I'll get by
As long as I
Have you
Though there be rain
And darkness too
I'll not complain
I'll see it through
Though I may
Be far away
It's true
Say, what care I
Dear, I'll get by
As long as I
Have you
-- Roy Turk

"The same Günther you had a smuggling business with in World War II?" Hercules asked.

"The same. I borrowed his last name. Get to that later. I'm pretty sure you remember that Europe in World War II was not a good time to be a man with a boyfriend."

"I was with the Resistance in France at the time." said Hercules. "I remember."

"Switzerland was neutral, but considering the high Roman Catholic population, you couldn't exactly hold hands in public either. Günther...how do I describe him. He was kind, brave, loyal, lovable. Learned English from Fred Astaire movies. Loved swing music. Did you know the Nazis banned it?"

"They banned just about everything."

"Yeah. Heard that. Günther was tall and slim, fair skin, floppy brown hair that always fell in his beautiful brown doe eyes. He thought of himself as awkward, but I thought he was beautiful."

"Sounds a lot like someone we both knew."

"Yeah. I wondered if he might be descended from some whore Joxer rolled with before he was with me or maybe descended from Jett. Jayce just didn't have any use for women. Ah, but I'm ahead of myself. I haven't told you how we met.

"Well, from about 1880 to 1926, I had been living in the United States. See, I had served as a mentor for a young man who went into show business. Well, by 1926, he wasn't exactly young anymore, but he would've still had a few good years if he hadn't pissed off the wrong people." Autolycus sighed. "I told Ehrie he should get that appendix looked at, but he didn't listen."

"Ehrie?"

"Short for Ehrich. It's what we all called him. Kid was like a little brother to me. I had been doing some stuff with chalk dust and putty to make it look like I was aging so I could keep hanging around him." He chuckled a bit. "Started doing that after Ehrie read /The Picture of Dorian Grey/ and jokingly asked me if I had a portrait hidden somewhere. Well, I taught Ehrie everything I knew and encouraged him to think for himself. I told him about the tricks people who claimed to be psychic or necromancers did. Told him if he knew the tricks he wouldn't be tricked. Well, Ehrie decided to tell the world these tricks. I guess I should have warned him. A lot of 'em were charlatans, just looking for a quick buck, but the real deal exists too. They're just rare. Well, some ticked off voo-doo witch cursed Ehrich with appendicitis and sent one of her henchmen to slug him in the gut for good measure."

"Evil magic." said Hercules. "Not to be trifled with."

"I was sad to lose him. I really liked him. Toured the US with him. Did some behind the scenes work while he did his act. But, I'll talk about Ehrie later. I need to talk about Günther. After Ehrich died, I sat shiva with his wife, washed off the chalk and putty and set off for Switzerland. I guess I just remembered how much I loved it there with Joxer.

"I just hopped from one town to the next, riding the rails, doing the thievery bit I've perfected. Then the War started and I decided there was more money to be made in smuggling than in thievery. I got myself a '39 Studebaker Challenger and ran contraband all over the Swiss boarder from Germany to Austria and sometimes as far as Italy. I took to hiding some fake plates and spray paint in a false bottom in the trunk in case I needed to disguise the car. I perfected a number of accents and disguises to throw off the boarder patrol.

"I met Günther Zolo in Vaduz, Liechtenstein in 1940. For about a year, he was just this guy I worked with. He was involved as a go-between on the black market. I'd get him the goods, he'd get it to the buyer, he'd get the money, we'd split it. Günther was always square with me. Never tried to cheat me out of money. I could trust him. Not many people in that racket you could say that about. He asked me what my last name was. I had just been going by the name 'Hans' if I had to give a name at all. I asked him his last name and said 'What a coincidence, my last name's Zolo too.' I don't think he bought it, but he went along with it.

"Well, one weekend, Günther asked me if I'd like to grab a beer with him. We'd have some brews, a few laughs, threw some darts. Nothing big. Then, one night he asked me if I wanted to go to this nicer place that served bratwurst and had a pool table. So, we had dinner and drinks, shot a little pool. Don't think we even kept score. About closing time, Günther invited me over to his place for a nightcap. He had some French wine that was hard to come by. I asked him if he was celebrating something. He told me that night was his 26th birthday. He had been an orphan since he was three and didn't have anyone to celebrate with. I had to admit, I was flattered he chose to spend it with me. Frankly, I had a bit of a crush on him. He just reminded me so much of Joxer.

"At his place, Günther poured me a glass of Chardon Blanc and cranked up his gramophone. We talked, drank, listened to Benny Goodman. After a while, he convinced me to let him teach me a little swing dancing. Nice thing about godlike agility- you can pick up dance moves in minutes, even after you've had a few. I wasn't wasted, just loosened up. Günther, now, didn't hold it all that well. Plus, there was some confusion over which of us should lead. This led to us tripping over his bed together. That led to us kissing. And, well, you know how one thing leads to another. The next morning, he said it was the best birthday present he ever got.

"For a while, we were just friends with benefits. During the week we'd run contraband and at the end of the week we'd hit the tavern then we'd go to his place to dance and screw. Then, one day, I had a little altercation with a Nazi over some books I had been paid to smuggle into Austria. Remember how easy it was to dodge arrows and spears back in the day? Well, bullets are just a little trickier. One shot grazed my side and I caught a bullet in my left shoulder blade. Wanna see the scar?"


"Ah, no thank you."

"If you're sure. Well, I managed to get away. Jumped in my Studebaker and floored it. I drove back to Vaduz, to Günther's place. Like I said, I trusted him more than anyone. I'm not exactly sure what happened. I got to his place, I got out of the car, and suddenly I got all dizzy. The pavement was just rushing up to my face and I blacked out."

"Blood loss?" Hercules surmised.

"Maybe. I woke up in Günther's bed. My wounds were dressed. I had an ice pack on my forehead along with a goose egg. Count Basie was on the gramophone and there was a sandwich, some aspirin and a glass of lemonade on the nightstand. Günther came in just as I was starting to remember what happened. He was wearing coveralls and was streaked with grease and paint. He said he switched the plates and repainted my car and just came in for some seltzer water to get the bloodstains out of the upholstery. He told me I should eat, take some medicine. He even had my favorite kind of olives for me. I told him to come to bed with me. He didn't want to, said he was dirty and smelled bad but I didn't care. I wanted to kiss him so badly. He told me to let him take a shower and he'd join me.

"When we were done, I warned him if he kept this up, I was going to do something corny like tell him I loved him. He said if I did, he'd probably say something corny like 'I love you too'. Well, Hercules, you know as well as I do what being in love feels like. And I was head over heels. It was almost like having Joxer back.

"I started packing heat after that incident. I advised Günther to do the same, but, he was kinda scared of guns. Afraid he'd shoot himself in the foot, I guess."

"Maybe he just didn't like the idea of killing someone." Hercules suggested. "Even if it's done in self defense, it can be a soul wrenching thing to do."

"Yeah, well, suffice to say, I was a little more careful after that and hoped Günther would be too, especially now that he had become even more important to me. We worked together smuggling. Didn't care what we were smuggling to where or for who, just as long as we got our cash. We eventually bought ourselves a little chalet up in the mountains. You know, Günther always insisted on tithing to St. Hedwig's orphanage. I think it was more of a gratitude thing than a religious thing. The nuns there had taken care of him as far back as he could remember. Sometimes we'd give them things that were hard to come by. A bag of sugar here, a textbook there. I'd sometimes do a little slight of hand act to entertain the kids.

"As far as anyone, even the nuns, knew, I was Günther's long lost brother, Hans. But, what we did in the privacy of our chalet was anything but brotherly. When the Nazi's started pushing Paragraph 175, Günther and I realized the war was starting to concern us personally. Plus, we had clients wanting us to smuggle /them/ out of Austria and into Switzerland. What was really heartbreaking was when people just wanted us to smuggle their children out but couldn't come themselves. Good thing St. Hedwig's was on the right side of the boarder. They helped us out a lot. Günther and I came to an agreement. From then on, Nazis were just there to be bribed or avoided.

"One day Günther and I helped this guy who only gave us the name 'Karl'. He was in trouble with the Nazis because he refused to take photos for their propaganda posters. Karl was this small, bespectacled, nebbishy sort. Before the war, he was just a simple photographer, specializing in portraits. He was hoping he could start over in Switzerland. He didn't have much in the way of money. All he had was a camera and some equipment. We told him if he took a few pics of us, we'd call it square."

"Ah. Photos." said Hercules.

"Mind out of the gutter! They were clean photos."

"Well, you told me you did a stint in porn, so I assumed...."

"And made an ass out of U and me."

"Yeah I guess so. I mean, is there a video out there called /Autolycus Does Athens/?"

"If you must know, I was performing under the name Bootsie Scyros."

"Bootsie Scyros?"

"Yeah, haven't you ever played the porno name game? You take the name of your first pet and the name of where you grew up."

"So, if I ever lose my mind and decide to go into porn, my name would be Argus Thebes."

"Now you got it! Well, anyways, Karl took about a dozen photos of us two with the Studebaker in the background. We mugged it up a bit for laughs. In one photo I had my fedora pushed over my eyes and I had my pistol drawn, trying to look like one of those gangsters in the movies that were popular then. Günther lounged over the hood of the car and pouted his lips, trying to look like a pin-up girl. Karl got us to stop kidding around and take a few good photos. Took a few of the two of us together. You know, after all these years, I still carry a picture of the two of us." He took a photo out of his wallet and showed it to Hercules.

It was a somewhat faded black and white photo that was a bit tattered at the edges. Two men sat on the protuberant hood of a Studebaker. The one who looked like Autolycus was giving his partner a one armed hug as the younger man beamed. The other man was a dead ringer for Joxer, even in his semi-modern clothing- loose pants with suspenders and a plain shirt with rolled up sleeves. "He does look a lot like Joxer." Hercules remarked.

"Yeah. You know, that was about the time I started smoking again. See, I gave it up in the thirties because it was just getting too expensive. Then, one day, I got paid a wad of money to smuggle some cigarettes into Italy. I thought 'Hey, he won't miss one cigarette.' And that led to 'He won't miss one pack.', which led to 'He won't miss one carton.' I came home reeking of tobacco and feeling ashamed of myself." They both laughed until Autolycus gave a sobering sigh.

"It started out normal one day." he said quietly. "We had to get up early because I had to get a family of three out of Feldkirch and across the Swiss boarder and he was dropping off some contraband for a client. I suggested we switch jobs, but the client had been told to look for someone fitting Günther's description. We had a shaving cream fight in the washroom. We talked about catching a movie in town that evening as we had coffee. He wanted to see /The Sky’s the Limit/. I got in the car, he kissed me good-bye and told me to take care of myself."

Hercules could guess from Autolycus' tone what was coming. "Autolycus, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"We can't forget, Hercules." Autolycus said pragmatically. "I'll never forget. I'll never want to. If we forget, it may happen again. After I got the family across the boarder, I headed back to Valduz. I went to The Lonely Goatherd, our favorite tavern, and waited for him. Hours passed, and no sign of him. I wondered where he was. I thought maybe he might've gone to our home for some reason. I went outside. Someone asked me if I was going somewhere. It was Private Kleiner, this Nazi soldier Günther and I dealt with at check points. He was easily bribed with booze and sugar. I asked him if he'd seen Günther. He said he had. That he was there when he was arrested.

"I thought maybe the deal went sour. Maybe Günther had been caught with the contraband on him. I played dumb, like I couldn't imagine why Günther would be arrested, but I was willing to bail my 'brother' out. Kleiner told me I could drop the 'brother' act. Günther was arrested for 'lewd acts' that violated Paragraph 175 and shipped off to Mauchauser. Oh, and I was under arrest too.

"I drew at the same time as Kleiner. We were at a standoff. I demanded answers. Who betrayed us? We hadn't told anyone our true relationship. Either Kleiner didn't know or he wouldn't say. I told Kleiner fuck him and the Nazi party, I was getting Günther back if I had to tear down Mauchauser to do it. Kleiner thought that was funny. Then, he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a photo of me that Günther carried in his wallet. He- he said it was found clutched in Günther's hand when they were removing bodies from the cattle car. He had a cyanide capsule stuck in his teeth. He never told me he was carrying cyanide on him. He should have trusted me. Should've just held on, had faith that no matter what, I'd save him."

"Do you really think Günther would want you to put yourself in danger for him?" asked Hercules. "Autolycus, this was /a concentration camp/. I was there when Auschwitz was liberated. It was a place of complete hopelessness. Even if you had been able to break in and somehow broke Günther out- a difficult task even for you, could you really have left everyone else behind?"

"Günther would kick my ass if I tried." Autolycus gave a bitter smile. "Mauchauser wasn't as well known as Auschwitz, but it was pretty nasty. They'd literally work people to death, or deliberately infect them with typhus. At first, I was angry at Günther for what he did. I'm no stranger to grief, but it was the first time I had to deal with suicide. Now, I kinda understand why Günther did what he did. He died on his own terms, with his dignity. Just wish I could've given him a better burial than some communal pit. Last May would have been his 90th birthday. I was on a little vacation in Amsterdam at the time. Nice place, Amsterdam. You can get good weed pretty cheap there."

"Autolycus!"

"What?"

"Please tell me you're not smoking pot."

"Not every day. Like I said, it can't kill me. But, I didn't go there for the weed or the porn or even the cute little wooden shoes and windmills. There's a memorial there. Three pink triangles with some poetry. I put down a red rose and a photo of Günther trying to be a pin-up model. Wrote his name, birthday and the day he died on the back so if anyone found it, they'd see a name and a face to go with the memorial. Then, I took the steps down to the waterfront, had a Heineken and thought of Günther."

"What happened to Kleiner?" asked Hercules. "Someone had to win that stand off. Logically, that would be you."

"I've managed to block the details out. Kleiner was telling me Günther was dead, and I didn't want to believe it. Next thing I knew, my gun was smoking and there was a dead Nazi at my feet. He must've gotten in a shot too, because my shoulder was bleeding.

"I decided to get rid of the body and fake my death at the same time. I switched clothes with Kleiner and put him in the driver's seat of the Studebaker. I doused him and the front seat in brandy, lit a cigarette, tossed the match in and let the car roll off the side of a mountain. The crash was spectacular. Everyone would think I just went out in a blaze of glory. I went back to the chalet one last time to clean up. I shaved and gave myself a buzz cut and spent the rest of the war under the identity of Private Jakob Kleiner. I used my position to warn people when a Nazi round up was planned. I had access to papers that would allow people to leave lands under Nazi rule. Helped take the organization down from within. I think Günther would've been proud."

"I think so to."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: OK, normally this would be the part where I give you all the facts and figures about how many people died in the Holocaust. But I won't. The exact numbers vary from one source to another. Let's just say it was too many and leave it at that.

Paragraph 175 was a ruling that prohibited all homosexual behavior. Lesbians were considered "curable" (the "cure" being marriage) but male homosexuals were considered deviants that had to be removed from society. A documentary has been made on the subject, creatively titled /Paragraph 175/. I haven't seen it. Just reading about it was depressing enough.

And if you've figured out who "Ehrie" is, you win another cookie!