Sam Yang

Period D
4/21/2019
Twenty years ago, schizophrenia destroyed a family.
It was the night before Albert Einstein left from Germany to America. Grey clouds were
cluttering above the asylum building. Thunder lightened up the entire sky and those raindrops
falling on that old broken building. Einstein stood in front of his son’s room, watching him bang
the door. His son punched his fingernails into his face and left horrendous prints. He was
drooling, screaming, and laughing. Einstein sobbed as his tears covered his face.
“Lebewohl1, my son.”

Einstein never thought the world could be in such chaos—Then WWII happened.
That man, a monster living inside, initiated a genocide on Jews. He enjoyed every death
on his account.
Wait. Is my son ok?

Unlike the smooth landing in America, the plane bumped and bumped and bumped.
Einstein looked out of the window; things were totally different: Trees were burnt and ashes
were everywhere; combat aircraft was hovering in the air; a lot of abandoned tools were left on
the ground here and there. That was seriously a war! He didn’t realize he was holding his hand
rests tighter and his palms were sweating. He didn’t know where to put his eye sights and where
to set his feet. He then glimpsed a giant rusted board on the top of the airport building with a
dozen bullet holes on the top of the airport building:

Willkommen zuhause!

Yeah. As soon as I take my son out of here, this is not my home anymore.
He got out of the plane, called a cab and arrived at the asylum. The surrounding was all
familiar to him: the white wall, the red bricks, the dried messy bushes lying under a tall fractured

1
Farewell
tree, the muddy rotten wooden gate, the metal fences all around the yard, the shattered glass.
This place was never organized. Albert walked into the shivering building and saw a young man.
The young man was tall just like him. He had a thin mustache which was a typical German type.
He had an easy clean hair cut. On top of his head, he wore a stahlhelm which was a German
combat helmet. On the contrary, he barely had anything on except for a dark green T-shirt which
was torn apart. Nylon black pants were covered with dirt and spreading a rotten smell. This
young man was sitting on a broken sofa. He is not crazy anymore. I’m so glad I could have my
son back. His tears ran down along his cheek and all of the locked memory flowed back right in
front of his eyes.
“Eduardo, my son, come back with me.
I’ll take good care of you. I promise.
As a father.”
“I’ve waited for this day for a long time, dad. Of course, I will come with you.” He
tucked his real ID card in his back pocket of his jeans.

“Hi, mom. I miss you guy so much!” He opened his arms, laughing mischievously.
“Whoa, young man, stay back where you are. Are you THE Eduardo?” Maybe he
survived the war? She thought.
“Eduardo”:
I gotta check this Eduardo’s profile. He is such an unwelcoming person. Why is he
crazy? His family abandoned him to survive! I don’t want to pretend to be crazy throughout my
entire mission. You know what, I’m going to ask for more money when I go back to Germany—
I need to find this Einstein’s workplace. He seems famous and smart and is probably a good start
for my mission.

Albert’s wife never baked. She hardly touched a single kitchen utility since the day she
married Albert. She played poker games with other rich women to consume the endless time they
got. Other than winning and winning and winning, she walked her dog in the garden and let the
dog pee and step on the flowers she just planted. Then she just used a big garden scissor to cut
them all and plant them again. BUT she started to bake! Since the day Eduardo was found in
Germany and moved back with her, she spent more time figuring out which white powder is salt
and which is sugar with her round black polished glasses. Albert loved a fresh-baked croissant
and a cup of hot black tea in the afternoon. Whenever she put that afternoon tea and dessert in his
study, she saw Eduardo skimming through his papers, sometimes the mail as well.
I’m so glad that he is interested in his father after all of these years!
“Eduardo”:
God! His wife is so annoying! Miststück2! She can’t even keep herself out of my
business!—Why does this old man always hide his stuff inside his safe? They are his family. He

2
Bitch
really had some trust issues—it would probably take me some time to find anything valuable. I
hope they don’t send that mail anytime soon.

Days by days, Eduardo was settling in his new home. He always hung around at his
father’s working area.
Albert Einstein was working in his physic lab. How to break down an atom and make it
release as much energy as it can do was the priority. He recently was invited into a Manhattan
Project, which he didn’t know much. He heard his colleagues whispering about bombing Japan.
Well, he only cared about nothing but his job and his family. Politics was not really his thing.
He got home that day and saw a huge stack of mail on his desk. There was rubbish mail
like those ads from the pharmacy next door and the discount coupons from the food market.
Abruptly, an envelope from Germany caught his attention. It was addressed to his son. He is still
in touch with his German friends. Huh. I think his birthday is close. Maybe the letter will give me
a hint.

·- - · - · - · ··- -- ·-· · ·- --· ·· · ·-· ··· - -·· ··- -· ·· -·-· ···· - ··--·· -·· ··- -- ··- ··· - -·· ·· -
·-· ···· -··· · · ·· ·-·· · -· --·- -··· ·-- ·· ·-· -·· ·· · ·-- · ·-·· - · ·-· --- -··· · ·-· -· ·-- --- ·-·· ·-·· · -·
--- -·· · ·-· -· ·· -·-· ···· - --··-- ···· ·- -· --· - -· ·-·· · ·· -· ···- --- -- -- ·- -· ···· ·- - - ·- -· ·--· ·-· --
- ·--- · -·- - ·- -··· --··--(see keys in the back)
What is this? His eyes were full of distrust and unbelief.
Move down and to the right every time you hear a DIT (a dot).
Move down and to the left every time you hear a DAH (a dash).

Warum reagierst du nicht? du musst dich beeilen Ob wir die Welt erobern wollen oder nicht, hängt allein
vom Manhattan-Projekt ab.3

3
Why are you not responding? You have to hurry up! Whether or not we are going to conquer
the world is purely depend on the Manhattan project.
 Albert carefully sneaked the encrypted letter back
into the envelope, put his index finger into his mouth and
licked. Gently, he sealed the envelope and set on his son’s
Your son desk.
Just then, he heard the squeak of the gate of his
house.
“Kiddo, how was your day?”
“Good, dad. I made a lot of friends at school today.
They are all very good at...”
The sun put on a golden coat on Eduardo.4 Albert
smiled. His eyes were full of the joy of fatherhood. He
didn’t know what his son was saying. He didn’t care. He
cared about his son’s heath, his growth, his interest, his
thoughts.5 HIM.
He looked into his son’s eyes, a Monalisa who he
will never figure out the actual identity.6 His son was a
spy. Or not. Albert had experienced a lot in his life. He
had done everything right in his life. Now he needed to do
something for himself.

Your son

4
Personification
5
Anaphora
6
Allusion
 Albert carefully sneaked the encrypted letter back
into the envelope, put his index finger into his mouth and
licked. Gently, he sealed the envelope and set on his son’s
Your country desk.
“Hey, Eduardo. Can you come here for a second?”
“Yes, dad.” Did he find out about my identity?
“I just want you to know that I apologize for
leaving you when you needed me the most. And—I love
you. I’m so sorry that I have to let you go.7” Albert tried to
inhibit his sadness, but his tears burst.
“I love you too.”
He lost his world but saved the world. 8
Albert Einstein grabbed his coat, tied his shoes,
buckled his key chain on his belt and left the house.
He saw a giant green military base. Thousands of
soldiers marched with rifles.
He stood in front of the general’s office, staring at
the craved golden name tag.
He straightened his suit and knocked on the door.

7
Euphemism
8
Metaphor