Free Fatherland (Prequel to Primal Shift) by Griffin Hayes Page B

them lives on our street,
Samuel. You think he got this from one of them? None of them speak any German
though, at least I don’t think they do.”
    Thomson looked up from
his notes. “The key here, Mrs. Kesler, is that you don’t think they do. A
child’s mind is like a sponge, you see. You’d be absolutely amazed at the
amount of raw data they absorb on a daily basis. Wouldn’t take much more than
an absent minded adult watching a war documentary in another room for that kind
of thing to seep into Donald’s subconscious mind.”
    “I want you to be right,
Mr. Thomson. Not just for obvious reasons. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but
I’m Jewish and so is most of the neighborhood. I wanted this to go away so
badly, but after the scar on Donald’s face started to spread, I didn’t think I
could ignore it any longer. But you see, no one can know what I’m telling you
here. Can you imagine what would happen? You don’t know what people are capable
of.” Mrs. Kesler’s voice started to rise and Donald looked up at her. “The
Goldbergs were at Dachau, for crying out loud. For all I know, their son is
liable to kick down the door and hurt Donald and I won’t take that risk. I
don’t care what he was all those years ago, he’s my son now. That’s why I want
you to be right, Mr. Thomson. More than you know.”
    Thomson’s eyes fell and
found Donald, clutching his mother’s leg.

-4-
    T homson and Brooks
retrieved their equipment from the van they had arrived in and hauled it up to
Donald’s bedroom. EMF detectors, temperature sensors, a portable oscilloscope
and even an ionization detector. Donald sat on his bed, his tiny, pale hands
gripping the superman bedspread as he watched the men set up their equipment.
    Outside, heavy drops of
rain battered the windows.
    Brooks sat on the bed
next to Donald and got him to lift his shirt. They needed to attach the suction
cups to his temples and chest. Patches of skin on Donald’s chest also looked
burned.
    “What happened to your
skin Donald?” Brooks asked as he attached the receptors.
    Donald’s eyes dropped.
“The fire touched me.”
    “You got burned?”
    The boy nodded.
    “Can you tell me when
this happened?”
    “I don’t remember.”
    Brooks applied the last
suction cup. “I need you to be still, Donald. Can you do that for me?”
    “I think so.”
    Reaching down, Brooks
scooped up a toy soldier and slid it into the boy’s hand. “Just relax now.”
    Thomson had set most of
the equipment on a dresser and was still fiddling with various settings.
    “I don’t think any of
this stuff’s gonna do us any good,” Brooks said coming up behind him.
    Thomson shook his head
in mock disgust. “That’s a surprise. I thought you were a believer?”
    “You mean, do I think
this kid really was Hitler?” Brooks asked, whispering that last part as
though he’d said a curse word. “I’m not sure yet. I’m only saying we can bring
in all the ghost busting gear you want, but I don’t think it’s gonna do much
good. We need to talk to the boy. We might even need to call in Shrodder.”
    Thomson let out a dry
laugh. “We need hard scientific data, not some whack job quack who specializes
in hypnosis. You still don’t get it, do you Brooks? We’ll never be taken
seriously unless we do things right.”
    “But at least Shrodder
might be able to get some historical facts we can verify. Remember the James
Leininger case? That boy said he was a World War II fighter pilot and how did
his parents discover the truth? They called in a hypnotist.” Brooks was shaking
his head. “I think you’ve already made up your mind on this one.”
    “What are you implying
here? That I’m closed minded or that I’m burned out?”
    Brooks raised his hands
in a kind of peace offering. “I didn’t use those words, you did.”
    “At least I haven’t
turned into a gullible fool. Is it any surprise we aren’t taken seriously?
Every time we stumble onto a case you’re so