Candles for Max
It was that time of year again. The X-Men were setting up a tree, stringing lights, and attempting to forget the daily danger with a bit of holiday cheer. And in the midst of all the Christmas preparations, Kitty was throwing a Chanukah party. Kitty being Kitty, she had invited all the inhabitants of Utopia, as well as the members of the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. Supposedly everyone was to put aside their differences for the fifth night of Chanukah and get to remember the good old days when they had been friends.
Naturally, Magneto had refused to attend. Equally naturally, Charles was insisting he do so.
"Eric, you're one of us now."
"I know of many people who would disagree, some rather violently."
Professor X sighed. "He's not going to attack you."
Dryly. "Because Wolverine will be too busy arguing with Scott?"
Charles winced, chuckling ruefully. "Most likely. But do come my friend. If you are truly uninterested, you could always leave."
Magneto frowned at his old friend, his old enemy who, it seemed, had to oppose him, no matter what side he was on. "If I agree to come, you agree to not to complain when I leave?"
Charles smiled pleasantly. "Of course, old friend."
Magneto just scowled. "And to leave my room?" He asked pointedly.
Charles just chuckled again, getting up to leave. "I'll see you tonight then?"
Magneto simply pointed toward the door. "Now, Charles."
Candles Candles Candles
Kitty Pride smiled happily as her guests trickled in. Not everyone from Logan's school had chosen to come, but quite few had, including Logan himself. Which reminded her, she needed to talk to him. First though –
"All right everyone. Gather around. I'm going to light the candles. " It was a simple thing really, but a meaningful one. "Baruch Atah Ado... Elokeinu melech Ha'Olam Asher Kidishanu B'Mitzvosav V'Tzivanu L'Hadlik Ner Shel Chanukah." Carefully, she lit the five candles, stepping back slightly. "Okay, so if anyone wants to sing with me, you're welcome to do so." Cheerfully, she began.
Magneto wondered briefly if Charles knew what being here meant for him. Then he cast the thought away. The one time leader of the X-Men could not understand the meaning of Chanukah. It had been a holiday of hope for those without from the first. It was a triumph and a wonder, the many defeated by the few. Charles, for all he understood Hebrew, could never understand. So Charles did not know, could not know, what Chanukah meant for Magneto.
But then Charles had never known a boy named Max Eisenhardt.
Candles Candles Candles
Maoz Tzur Y'Shuasi L'Cha naeh L'Shabeach … O, Rock of my salvation, to you I give praise
An older man, white streaking through his hair and beard, though some black still remains, carefully checks the wicks floating in oil. "Coming Eddie?"
A woman, rust hair covered by a kerchief enters, her son in one arm, daughter by her side. "Just a few more moments Jacob. I can't cook after you light, and I know some people who'd like their latkes." Her laughing eyes fall on her brother-in-law.
"Can I help it?" Erich laughes. "You, my brother, married the best latke maker in all of Germany!"
Jacob chuckles at his younger brother's antics. "That she is. That she is."
"Hmph." Eddie shakes her head, dismissing both of them. "Well, if you want your latkes, then come watch Max for me. I can't flip and hold him at the same time."
Erich grins. "Latkes and a chance to play with my favorite nephew? What could make this better?"
Max shrieks with laughter as his uncle throws him up. "Uncle Erich! Papa made me a menorah and I get to light it!"
"Wow." Erich ruffles the young boys hair. "You must be so big. You're how old now, two, three?"
"No!" Max scowls. "I'm five!"
"Got in himmel!" Erich feigns shock. "Already? And here I thought I had some time left!"
"Done!" Eddie calls, exiting the kitchen, Ruthie in tow. "Now we can light."
"Come kinder," Jacob calls, the shamash already lit. "It's time to light." He does so quickly, knowing it will all be a blur to his young son, so eagerly impatient to light. As soon as the candles are lit, Jacob turns to Max. "Ready Max?"
Max nods as seriously as a five year old can. Of course he's ready. He's been ready all day. Jacob smiles, holding his son's hand as they light Max's little menorah together. Then they sing, and Erich, Eddie and Ruthie join them.
Of course, Max is too young to finish all six stanzas. He manages the first, then runs off to the kitchen for his prize - one of his mother's delicious latkes.
But the lights he kindled shine on.
Raos Sava Nafshi B'Yagon Kochi Chila... Troubles sated my soul; grief consumed my strength
Max lit his menorah, feeling almost as though he were being watched. He should be safe here, here in his home, but the events that had occurred but a few days before showed that lie for what it was.
Kristallnacht. The Night of Broken Glass. Such a pretty name for something so horrible.
Hiding in a cemetery, watching shops looted, people beaten to death for the 'crime' of being Jewish, the Temple in flames leaving only ash... It had only been a few weeks ago. Uncle Erich was insisting they leave, but it was cold, it was winter, and Ruthie never did well in winter.
Max's hand trembled slightly as he lit the candles. He did not want to admit it, but he was scared. He was only ten after all, and the thought of losing his family terrified him.
Jacob placed a hand comfortingly on his son's shoulder. "It's okay Max. It is not weak to feel fear. Only if it paralyses you, keeps you from going on, then it is a weakness. Now light those candles."
Max smiles up at his father, calmer now. His hand his still as he lights the candles. Jacob begins the song, and the family joins in, for a moment at peace.
They only get as far as the second stanza when Erich runs in and blows out the flames. "Are you mad Jacob?" he demands furiously. "I could see those from the street. Do you want the soldiers to kill you? Kill your family." He shakes his head, sorrow paining his features. "We have to leave Jacob. Germany is no place for a Jew now."
Jacob sighs, motioning Erich towards the kitchen. "Come. We'll discuss it."
And Max and Ruthie watch the smoke rise where flames of hope had once been lit.
Dvir Kodsho Heviani, V'Gam Shum Lo Shukatiti...To His abode He took me, but I could not rest
Jacob lights Max's menorah now. His was too big to take from Germany. After half an hour the candles are blown out, and it is Max's turn to light. They still light by the window, but here in the ghetto the windows are covered first. Should the Nazis find them breaking blackout...
Max is just glad they can light. At the last minute he was able to get some oil, making Jacob smile for the first time in months. Even Ruthie showed some life at the thought of being able to light properly.
There are no latkes now, but Ruthie still has her silver dreidel. Max does not know how long it will be before he pawns it for food, but he keeps pushing that day off. Momma's wedding band, Ruthie's dreidel and his menorah are practically all they have left of life from before.
He lights the candles, every sense on edge. He sings, softly, quietly. Ruthie and his mother hum along. This is not like Chanukahs past, when the whole family would dance with joy before the candles. Now he wonders if he'll even get the half hour.
He doesn't.
The knocking sounds as Max reaches the third stanza. The Nazis, going on their searches, seeking the weak or infirm, or simply any Jew at all. Eddie forces Ruthie to her feet, pinching the sickly girl's cheeks so she will look healthier. There is nothing Jacob can do for his white hair, but he tries to stand tall, to look stronger. They wait in fear, hoping against hope that the soldiers will pass. Hoping that they will survive another day.
They do. The soldiers pass their house, and no one is taken. Not this time. But they cannot always be lucky, and they know it.
"They're grabbing people off the streets now," Erich warns them. "The weakest first. The next time you - or Ruthie, God forbid – show your faces." Erich shakes his head. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn Jacob, but thank God your son grew up to be a smuggler."
The rest of the night is spent frantically preparing for their escape. The song is never finished.
Kiros Kamas B'Rosh Bikesh Agagi ben Hamidasa... The Amaleikite sought to cut down the cypress
Max crouches in the corner of the barracks. Another member of the Sonderkommando keeps guard as he carefully scoops out his prize - a potato. Normally he would eat this, but not now, not tonight.
Tonight is Chanukah.
Tiny holes, barely enough room for the few drops of kerosene one of the others manged to scavenge. A few strands of thread from the frayed sleeves of their 'uniforms' become the wicks. One man takes out a match, readies it to strike, then changes his mind.
"You light it lad." He proffers the thin piece of wood. "You light it for us."
Max shakes his head. "It's your match."
"Your potato; your menorah," the man counters, and the others agree.
Max can barely manage to strike the match, but eventually it ignites. Carefully he lights the 'candles', somehow remembering to say the blessing as he does. It does not matter that none of them really believe anymore. It does not matter that they know better than to hope for miracles. Watching the candles they remember a time before the death, before the fires and the gas chambers. They watch the candles, and for a moment remember how to hope, and dare to dream of a freedom separate from death.
Someone begins Maoz Tzur and, quietly, the others join in. They sing of past troubles and remember how they survived. It is at the end of the fourth stanza, singing of Haman's defeat that flames go out.
Just in time, because the kapo calls a warning. A Nazi is coming. A moment later the potato is hidden and everyone is 'asleep.'
Max doubts they will be able to light again tomorrow. They barely managed it tonight. But maybe, maybe, someday they will be free. Maybe they will be able to light the candles without fear.
He falls asleep cradling the potato, the menorah, and the hope of tomorrow.
Yivanim Nikbitzu Ahlei Azei B'Mei Chashmanim...The Greeks fought me in the Maccabees time
Max danced around, Anya shrieking with laughter as he spun her. Magda shook her head in amusement. Their little family was happy now, and soon it it would be growing larger. Magda had yet tell max that she was pregnant again. She wanted to be certain first.
Anya giggled as Max lifted her up closer to the candles. "See Anya'le? Those are Chanukah lecht. A very long time these evil Greeks tried to destroy your Poppa's people…"
Magda frowned. Poppa's people? But of course, Anya was not Jewish because Magda was not Jewish. Not that Max loved them any less for it, and Magda knew she was reading too much into it, but still, it stung.
Max was singing now, Anya trying to follow along. Maoz Tzur, a song of struggle and triumph. Magda sighed, nibbling on one of those potato pancakes - latkes Max called them - that she had made. Apparently it was a tradition, just like lighting that odd candelabra her husband had carved.
She jumped, as did Max, at the sudden knock on the door. Even three years later, such harsh sounds could send them flying right back to the camps. So it was rather timidly that Magda opened the door for the innkeeper. "Yes, sir?"
He scowled at them, fingers twitching. "Listen. Tell your Jew husband that if he wants to avoid trouble he'll blow out those lights. Or at least put them where decent people can't see."
Magda freezes as Max's eyes flash with fury. She bites her lip and nods. "I'll let him know," she squeaks, and then she is running toward the candles, terrified someone will come with guns and gas and kill her and Anya and Max. She blows them out, ignoring her husband's angry look.
"The war is over," he snarls. "I have a right to light those candles if I want!"
"Please," she implores him. "Think of Anya. She is not Jewish." It is the first time Magda has said it, and she sees the pain that flashes across Max's face when she does, but she continues all the same. "She does not need you to bring trouble on her head. Please Max, no more candles. I am afraid... I am so afraid."
Max is holding her now, and she sobs into his shoulder. "It's all right Magda. It's okay. No more candles. See? I won't light them again. Not if you don't want me to."
"Thank you." Magda pulls away, a faint smile on her face. "Thank you max. And maybe you can light again sometime, when it's safe."
Max nods, and smiles, but something inside him has flickered and died with the candles.
Chasof Zroah Kodshecha V'Kuraiv Kaitz Ha'Yshuah... Bare Your arm and hasten the Final Salvation
"You left before she even finished the song."
"You agreed not to complain." Magneto glowered at Charles. "I said I would come and I did. I did not say how long I would stay."
Charles sighed. "I know, I know. But you could still have waited for the end of the song." The professor's voice is faintly chiding.
Magneto turns away, purple cape swirling behind him. "You don't understand. You speak Hebrew, Charles. Tell me, what does that last stanza mean?"
Professor X blinked. "The last stanza. It's about the Final Redemption, I believe."
"Correct. And I do not believe in it."
"You could have stayed," Charles argued.
"No." Magneto glared at him. "Enough Charles. I have my reasons for not wanting to stay. Now, if you don't mind?" One gloved hand motioned at the door.
Charles sighed. "Very well, old friend. I won't trouble you any longer. But I still think you should have stayed."
Magneto simply used his powers to open the door. Vaguely, he wondered what Charles would say if he knew that tomorrow was the anniversary of his family's death. The day of both his families deaths.
He wondered what Charles would think if he knew that on the fifth day of Chanukah, in the Jewish year 5689, December 11, 1928, was the day Max Eisenhardt had been born. Probably throw a party, Magneto decided. Just another reason not to tell him. Because really, Charles could never understand.