Making history

'I don't know,' I said. 'I mean, you must have remembered some of your earlier life.'

'I don't know. Maybe I did, maybe I erased it. I can't remember now what I remembered then, if you see what I mean. How much of your life do you remember from before you were seven? Is it not just shadows with strange patches of light? Everything my mother told me I believed. Children do. Consider too the trauma of the days of starvation and walking and hiding, the bewilderment of being herded from place to place for endless months, the boredom and nausea of the ocean voyage. All these did much of my mother's work for her. It was a year and a half after my arrival in America before I was capable of any real conversation. By the time I emerged from my silence I truly believed I was Leo Zuckermann. Nothing else would have made sense.'

'But your uncle? How could your mother convince him she was really his sister-in-law?'

'Robert had been parted from his brother for ten years. He had never met the real Hannah Zuckermann. Why should he doubt her? Oh, she had an explanation for everything, my mother. She even explained ...' Leo paused, his face momentarily screwed up in pain and embarrassment. 'She even explained my penis.'

'I'm sorry?'

'She told Uncle Robert that the moil in Krakow had been rounded up by the Nazis in 1938 before my circumcision could be performed. It was done to me in New York within a week of my arrival there. That I will never forget. Circumcision, Hebrew classes, bar mitzvah, all those I remember with perfect clarity. And now, as she lay dying in front of my eyes, my mother decides to

tell me that it has all been a lie, my whole life has been a lie. I am not a Jew. I am a German.'

'Wow.'

'Wow is as good a word as any other. Wow about covers it. I looked down on this woman, this Marthe Bauer from

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Miinster. Her face is as white as the pillow behind her and her eyes are burning with what I can only call pride.

' "So now you know, Axi," she says to me.

'The use of the name strikes me like a rock. Stirs muddy pools of memory. Axi ... it rings a bell, as they say.

'"And my real father?" I ask her. "Sturmbannfiihrer Bauer. What of him?"

'She shakes her head. "He was captured by the Poles and hanged. I found out. Eventually I found out. It took me years. I had to be careful, you see. At last I hit upon the idea of calling the Simon Wiesenthal Centre in Vienna and claiming that I had seen him in the street in New York. They say to me that it must have been someone else, since for sure Dietrich Bauer was tried and executed in '49. Then I know. But don't worry, Axi," she adds hastily, "I'm sure he died happy. Knowing that we were safe."

'"Why have you never told me this before, Mutti?" I ask, keeping the horror from my voice. This is a dying woman. You cannot badger the dying.

'"One thing mattered only. Your safety. In this world it is better to be a Jew than a German, But I always wanted you to know one day what you really are. I have been a good mother to you. I protected you."

'Michael, I tell you, there was a kind of ferocity in her voice that terrified me.

'"You should not be ashamed of your father. He was a good man. A fine doctor. A kind man. He did what he could. No one understands now. The Jews were a threat. A real threat. Something had to be done, everyone thought so. Everyone. Maybe some people went too far. But the way they talk about us now, you would think we were all animals. We were not animals. We were people with families, with ideals, with feelings. I don't want you to be ashamed, Axi. I want you to be proud."

'This is what she said to me. I sat with her for a while, her hand grasping mine. I could feel the grip of it weaken. At last she said, "Tell the others they may come in now. I am ready."

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'I turned from the doorway and saw that she had taken up a Hebrew prayer book. I stood staring at her as her friends filed in past me and surrounded the bed, as is the Jewish custom. And that, Michael, is the last I saw of my other parent. So now you know.'

The coffee was cold in my cup. I looked at the bookcase at the row upon row of books. All on that subject.

Leo followed my eyes. 'Primo Levi's book The Periodic Table is prefaced by a Yiddish saying,' he said. 'Ibergekumene tsores iz gut tsu dertseylin. "Troubles overcome are good to tell." For him, for others, it may be that the troubles have been overcome. For me they will never be overcome. And they have not been good to tell. There is a stain of blood upon me that can never be washed away in this world. Maybe in another. So let us go, Michael, and create that other world.'

Making History 47° I3f N} 10° 52' E FADE IN:

EXT. MICHAEL ' S HOUSE - NIGHT

Establishing shot of the Newnham house. All the lights are on. An owl hoots. A thumping, scrabbling SOUND is heard inside.

CUT TO: INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE, BEDROOM - NIGHT Inside the house MICHAEL is in the bedroom, looking under the bed. He talks to himself.

MICHAEL

Come on baby ... I know you're here somewhere .

He moves to the wardrobe and opens it. It is empty. He searches on the floor.

MICHAEL Come on!

He slaps his thigh in frustration as he stands. He checks the top of the wardrobe. Nothing.

He moves to the bathroom.

CUT TO: INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE, BATHROOM - NIGHT MICHAEL flings open the bathroom cabinet above the wash basin.

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He has been rather too violent. All the contents of the cabinet tumble out. Shaving-cream, toothpaste, toothbrushes, tubes of ointment, bottles of pills.

MICHAEL

(yelling furiously) Arse! Pants! Double pants!

He scrabbles all the things together and tries to cram them back in. This doesn't work well.

MICHAEL Panty arse-fuck!

He snatches at a razor, cutting his hand as it closes around it. MICHAEL sucks at the blood, enraged. MICHAEL Jesus-ing bollock-pants . . .

He stamps through to the kitchen muttering. MICHAEL Arsey pant-pant bollocky damn.

CUT TO: INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE, KITCHEN - NIGHT MICHAEL runs his hand under the tap and goes moodily to the central table.

On the kitchen table his wallet lies open. The contents are spread out. Some money, credit cards, driving licence, scraps of paper.

MICHAEL sits moodily at the table and goes through these items. He puts his fingers in the wallet and checks each corner of each compartment.

MICHAEL

(muttering to himself) Somewhere safe! That's a joke

He puts his head in his hands and rocks backwards and forwards in misery.

MICHAEL (as Olivier in Marathon Man)

Is it safe? Is it safe? (as Hoffman in the same film) Sure it's safe. It's so safe

you wouldn't believe .

He howls at himself furiously. MICHAEL

You moron. You arsehole. You couldn't be trusted to keep a . . .a ... cold, could you? WHY? Why the fuck couldn't I just . . .

SUDDENLY, he raises his head . . .

MICHAEL Hey! A smile grows.

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MICHAEL Yeah . . .

It becomes a beam. MICHAEL Why the fuck not?

He stands up and runs to the study. INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE, STUDY - NIGHT

CUT TO:

MICHAEL goes, not to his half of the study, but to Jane's. There are the boxes still, neatly labelled, ready to be sent on.

MICHAEL

She won't have remembered it. She won't have remembered. She can't have remembered . . .

He opens the bottom drawer of Jane's desk and feels towards the end.

MICHAEL

(mimicking Jane) 'Always keep a spare' . . . 1 always keep a spare' . . .

His hand finds something. MICHAEL Yes!

His hand comes out bearing . . . A dusty CREDIT CARD. MICHAEL blows on it. CLOSE on the card.

Not a credit card, but some sort of I.D. There is a photo of Jane on it, looking severe.

MICHAEL kisses the card, and runs his finger along its magnetic strip.

MICHAEL

Bitch. Sow. Cow. Darling. Mwah! CUT TO:

EXT. GENETICS LAB - NIGHT

MICHAEL, in black polo-neck, black trousers and black gloves, leaps somewhat unconvincingly from bush to bush outside the laboratory.

He gazes at the building. The lobby is lit, but there are no other discernible lights.

MICHAEL looks at his wristwatch. MICHAEL Pants.

He hops out from beh,ind a bush and walks towards the glass doors, more or less confidently.

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We see beside the main door a security lock, with a slit for swiping cards.

MICHAEL takes up the card, swallows twice and slides the card through.

A red light turns to green and we hear a satisfying CLUNK. MICHAEL pushes open the door and goes in.

CUT TO: INT. GENETICS LAB, LOBBY - NIGHT

MICHAEL pads quietly across the lobby towards the lifts. He looks left towards a reception desk. There is no one there. Everything is eerily quiet.

MICHAEL presses an elevator button and the doors sweep open.

He swallows nervously, enters the lift and the doors close behind him.

CUT TO: INT. GENETICS LAB, THIRD FLOOR - NIGHT A silent passageway, barely lit. PING!

Light floods in as the elevator doors open and MICHAEL emerges, looking nervously left and right.

He feels his way along the corridor until he comes to a door he knows .

He peers at the security lock and slides down his card once more.

Another satisfying clunk!

He steps into the room and turns on the lights. MICHAEL All right . . . !

CUT TO: INT. GENETICS LABS, JANE'S LAB - NIGHT LIGHT flicks on from overhead fluorescent strips as MICHAEL steps into the centre of the room.

He is on familiar ground here. He stares around for a moment, accustoming himself to the glare of the tube lighting.

He moves forwards to the bench. MICHAEL

Now. Where are you my beauties? Don't say .

He stares at a corner of the bench which is empty. His hand strokes the bare surface.

MICHAEL

No. No, that would be . . . stay calm, kid. Always calm.

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He stands back, trying to keep a lid on his mounting fears. He looks at the bench, as do we . . .

Deep sinks with rubber-hosed faucets. Electrical equipment. Centrifuges. Racks of test-tubes. Below and above the benches, there are cupboards, like in a fitted kitchen.

MICHAEL takes a deep breath and goes to a cupboard. He pulls it open.

CLOSE on MICHAEL'S face. We look at the cupboard . . .

EMPTY MICHAEL Arse.

He opens another cupboard . . . EMPTY MICHAEL Pants.

And another . . . EMPTY MICHAEL Double-arse. Another . . .

EMPTY

MICHAEL Double-pants. Yet another . . .

FULL.

What was that? MICHAEL'S brows shoot up. Yes! Full!

The cupboard is filled with large glass jars. One of them contains orange pills. We have seen these before. Scarcely able to breathe in case this is all a mirage, MICHAEL leans forward and takes up the glass jar of pills

.

He sets it down on the bench tenderly, opens it and takes out a handful of pills.

He stares at them, breathes a deep sigh and begins to fill his pockets.

CUT TO:

INT. GENETICS LAB, GROUND FLOOR LOBBY -NIGHT The lift doors open and MICHAEL steps out. He crosses the lobby and is just about to open the door and leave when .

A SOUND.

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MICHAEL pricks his ears .

We HEAR a strange muffled HOWLING. MICHAEL turns and looks down the corridor, frowning

in puzzlement.

Intrigued, MICHAEL pads along the corridor. The HOWLING sound grows.

He stops outside a door. It is mostly wooden, but there is a vertical strip of glass. MICHAEL presses his eyes to it. From MICHAEL' s POV we look in as well. Dimly lit, we make out CAGES.

Inside the cages there are DOGS. The cutest puppies you've ever seen, nosing softly and sadly against their steel bars.

MICHAEL (whispering) Hey there, pups!

The HOWLING grows, the cages begin to rock. MICHAEL

Sh! Hey guys . . . shush, okay?

MICHAEL feels for his security card and swipes it through. He steps in.

CUT TO:

INT. GENETICS LABS, ANIMAL TESTING ROOM -NIGHT MICHAEL switches on the lights and surveys the room. All around him are cages filled with puppies .

The whimpering, scrabbling and howling has grown to horrific proportions.

MICHAEL (nervously)

Hi there fellers . . . shush, now. The sound grows even louder. MICHAEL

You puppies . . . me Pup. Glad to know you. More scrabbling and howling.

MICHAEL

Listen, I can't set you free. You're too young. You'd die. Believe me. It'd be cruel. I'm sorry.

DIFFERENT ANGLES on the puppies . Somehow they begin to look almost sinister. Huge, malevolent. The noise swells, the cages rock.

It looks as if the locks might give way.

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MICHAEL backs away, scared. He leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

CUT TO:

EXT. GENETICS LAB - NIGHT

CUT TO: EXT . MADINGLEY ROAD - NIGHT MUSIC:

MICHAEL is bicycling along at top speed. He leans round a corner and down the drive towards the Cavendish laboratories.

He thrashes along to the car-park and to the front of the building, where LEO is waiting outside, carrying a portable computer bag and looking a little impatient. MICHAEL dismounts and lets his bicycle drop where it is. LEO

Any later and we would have missed the satellite. Sorry .

MICHAEL (panting) . I had to

MICHAEL runs from the building, the howling of the puppies still echoing in his ears.

LEO

Never mind. You're here. Let's go.

LEO turns to the door of the building. MICHAEL takes his briefcase from the rear of his fallen bike and follows. MICHAEL

(under his breath) Jawohl, me in Hauptmann! Schnell, schnell!

CUT TO: INT. SATELLITE COMMUNICATIONS ROOM - NIGHT

LEO has set up the machinery. TIM is plugged in. Cables and flat cords fan out from its rear.

We notice that a dymoed label saying 'T.I.M. ' has been fixed above the screen.

MICHAEL

I lost the pill. Can you believe it? I was sure I'd put it somewhere safe, but I'd lost the sucker. Had to go and get some more. That's why I was late.

LEO

(concentrating on what he is doing) You lost it?

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MICHAEL empties his pockets. There are at least thirty of the pills.

MICHAEL

It's okay, I got all these now. Maybe it's no bad thing. I mean would one have been enough? We don't really know anything about these suckers, do we?

LEO looks at the pills. LEO True.

MICHAEL How many, do you reckon? LEO

We'll see. We cannot even be sure if Alois will drink. MICHAEL

Sure he'll drink. Think of his hangovers in the mornings. All he will want to do is drink gallons and gallons of water.

LEO

Such is our hope. Now, if you please. The coordinates. MICHAEL opens his briefcase and consults his notes. He calls out the coordinates.

MICHAEL

Forty-seven degrees, thirteen minutes, twenty-eight seconds north, ten degrees, fifty-two minutes, thirty-one seconds east.

LEO goes to the satellite communications desk and inputs these figures as they are called out.

We see the TV monitor picture from one of the satellites change its attitude and angle on the earth. A caption beneath reads: 47° 13' 28" N- 10° 52' 31" E

LEO Check.

LEO goes to TIM and takes a cable which he jacks into a socket that emerges from the satellite comms desk.

LEO goes to TIM and switches it on. There is a small flash of light, but no image.

LEO Now. The dates.

MICHAEL We agreed on June 1888 . LEO

All right. Let us say 1st June 1888.

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