I've Become
Chapter 2: Paradise Lost (Section 2)
I have decided to share a few chapters from my manuscript — I’ve Become — and for this post it’s section two of chapter 2. The first post of the manuscript included all four sections. I have already shared section one of Chapter 2, “Paradise Lost” here. I will tease out this next chapter and share all four sections separately over the coming month of August.
Section 2 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA (1943)
Leon Lewis Law Office, 626 West 7th Street, Los Angeles, California
Leon Lewis, the man who many described as being “feared more than the entire FBI put together,” sat at his curved, Rosewood, writing desk. To Leon’s eye, and though the shades were drawn, the sun seemed to be at its highest point in the sky, making the shadows of all objects in the city nearly imperceptible. Lewis had kept a watchful eye on Hitler’s rise to power in the early years, even more so than the U.S. government had. He helped organize major U.S. Jewish organizations into action, creating a complex, interconnected spy ring to monitor and quash Nazi activities across the country, especially the highly organized Nazi cells in California. He hadn’t just relied on the Jewish community to ensure that such hateful, violent, bigoted subjects didn’t spread their toxicity across the land. Leon also made a point to forge deep relationships with Christian Americans. At this point, however, America First-type nationalists were more of a threat than Nazis in the U.S., as Leon now had the backing of the U.S. government. The biggest threat now – after the attack on Pearl Harbor – were American isolationists at home. There were numerous organizations such as the Informed Voters of America, the Americanism Defense League, and Americans for Peace. The common thread between these groups was a desire for the mass death of Jews, thus their strong sympathies for Nazi Germany and Hitler.
On the fourth floor of what was once called the Roosevelt Building, located on the northeast corner of Flower and Seventh Street, Lewis’s work called him, despite it being Sunday. The large, black fans lined throughout his long, narrow office were on full blast — ticking and humming, whirring and squeaking. At times, oddly enough, they sounded like a symphony of cicadas, momentarily reminding Leon of his childhood in Chicago in late summer near Lake Michigan. Leon turned to the large filing cabinets behind his desk, tugged at his damp shirt collar, and began to pull paperwork out for his current caseload. He stood up momentarily and then sat down again. The phone rang.
“Hello? Lewis speaking,” he said with his deep baritone voice.
“Hi Leon! It’s Ella Jean from the country club! We need to set up time to talk in your office about the upcoming raffle dinner. How’s about we do it over some cake and coffee?” Elsie did her best to feign a WASPy accent. She was failing badly at it.
As soon as Leon heard the words “cake and coffee,” he knew it was urgent. Everyone who was part of the Jewish resistance avoided using Jewish bakery terms in the event that the phones were bugged by the cells of California Nationalists. At this point in the spy games, after Leon had sabotaged the original Nazis’s attempts to spark uprisings along the West Coast and steal ammunition from the San Francisco armory in the 1930s, he was a well-known foe and threat to the U.S. isolationist’s operations.
“Sure, Ella Jean! I’ve already talked to Ruthie about it. She’s excited about the upcoming raffle. I’ll have my secretary pick up some coffee and cake around 2:30 this afternoon. How’s 3:15 sound? Can you make it then?”
“Yes, Leon. Oh, and a few of our other friends I mentioned to you the other night over drinks will be coming as well.”
“A full house then. I’ll make sure to tell Ms. Levy to put in some extra orders.”
“Thanks, Leon. We’ll see you soon.”
Leon had met Elsie and Reuben after they’d fled Auschwitz and later made their way to Hollywood after a short stopover in New York in 1941. Around 928 inmates at Auschwitz had tried to flee. Only 196 actually made it out alive. Elsie and Reuben were two of those 196 prisoners. They knew it too, but they didn’t like to talk about it much, not even with one another. Every time Leon saw them together, he couldn’t help but think about how they were part of that group of 928 souls, and some of the very few and very lucky who had made it out alive.
