The Prior

POV: Belle Watson

I snap awake. The others are still asleep. We jumped. I slowly sit up and glance around. My dress is different. Slowly, our dresses are getting less heavy. Max and Elliot both wear white suits, which are already dirty from the ground. Cass’s dress is a dark pink version of my own. Cass wakes up next, rolling away from the boys.

“Good morning,” I whisper to her. She smiles at me.

“Hey, Belle,” she whispers before standing up to stretch. She stares at the boys who soon also wake up. After a moment, Max turns to me,

“Belle, where are we on this fabulous day?” he says with a chuckle. I pull the paper out and unfold it. The creases in the paper are quickly getting worn.

“Zimmerman telegram,” I say. Max and Cass both make a face.

“What does that entail, Belle?” Cass asks. Elliot nods quietly at her clarifying question.

“We have to stop anyone from receiving it. In the original timeline, the UK intercepted it, sent it to the US who joined WW1. But, they want us to intercept it before the UK can so no one knows it was ever sent,” I explain.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they want America to be less aware of a threat to them? Was the Zimmerman telegram not a good thing?” Cass questions, looking at Elliot. Elliot gives her a death glare.

“No, you’re right. What, Belle?” Max says. I ignore him for a moment, watching the weird silent communication between Elliot and Cass. Max seems intrigued by it too.

“I mean, did you just read it wrong?” Cass says at last.

“No,” I say and repeat the word-for-word explanation on the paper.

“I mean, if that’s what it says, I’m sure that’s what we’re supposed to do,” Cass says.

“But, it doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t seem fishy to anyone else?” Max questions. Cass and Elliot look at eachother. Max’s stare burns into me.

“Not really. You’re just overthinking it, I think,” Cass says.

“Yeah. I mean, what would’ve happened?” Elliot agrees. Max glances at me, as if I know what’s going on. I break eye contact quickly. It’s making me uncomfortable. Max sighs after another moment.

“Okay. Let’s go,” he mumbles. We slowly start to venture towards the city. I walk closer to Cass, who leads the group.

“Cass, don’t you think that this is a weird mission?” I ask her. She shakes her head at me, before looking towards me.

“Don’t listen to Max’s conspiracies. They don’t get us anywhere,” she denies. I find her comments strange. Previously, Cass was always the one to question things. She was always the one with conspiracies.

“Why did you stop questioning things?” I ask, my heart pounding. I both respect and fear her simultaneously.

“There are some things that you… that we don’t know Belle. And, we don’t know them for a reason. Let’s just stick to that,” she says, in a hushed whisper. I glance at her, but she’s already a stride ahead of me. I quicken my next few steps to catch up to her.

“Why are you being so cryptic?” I say, in a normal voice. She grabs my elbow quite intensely. I glance over to see if Max or Elliot notice her uncanny behavior. They don’t.

“You need to be quiet,” Cass says in a harsh whisper, “You can’t trust everyone, take my word for it.” she releases my arm and I stumble to the side a little bit. I glance behind us at the boys, who quietly chuckle about something. Cass continues to walk quickly, her jaw tightly clenched. Who can’t I trust? Elliot? Max? Her? Someone lost her trust, but I don’t know who. Dorky Max that she never seemed to trust ever? Or sweet Elliot who she undeniably has fallen for?

I dedicate the rest of my day to watching her with each of them.

“Do we have any information on where exactly we are and what we’re supposed to do?” Max says after the boys’ conversation ceases.

“We’re in Germany,” I say. Elliot and Cass glance at each other, as if there’s some unspoken secret.

“Do we know how we’re going to do this?”

“Well, British codebreakers intercepted it because they cut all of Germany’s international telegram cables,” Elliot says.

“How the hell did you know that?” Max scoffs.

“In high school, I had a fascination with World War I and II… No, I wasn’t okay,” Elliot says with a chuckle.

“Convenient,” Max mutters quiet enough for only me to hear it. I look over to him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me.

Cass laughs next to me, “Oh, you were one of those kids, huh?” her laugh seems genuine. And, unlike Max, she doesn’t remark on the validity of his explanation. Seems so far that she trusts him, even though Max doesn’t.

Elliot silently nods, “I was…. Anyway, if I recall correctly, the only reason the message got intercepted was because Germany had to pass any messages through another country and didn’t encode the messages enough.”

“Okay, so for the message to not be intercepted, we would need the telegram lines to not be cut?” Cass pieces together. Elliot nods with her.

“Yeah!” she says, with a smile.

“Won’t this have dire consequences on the entire war? Now, they’ll have unrestricted access to telegrams and surely worse things than the Zimmerman telegram would be sent, right?” Max questions.

“Yeah, true” I add. Cass and Elliot stare at each other, once more. I continue, “Maybe we should just encourage them to send it a different way?”

“Maybe, but what other way?” Cass asks.

“Good ol’ snail mail?” Elliot says, looking at her and her alone. Something weird is going on here. I can’t shake the feeling of Cass’s hand on my elbow.

“Let’s do it,” Max obliges.

“So, we are going to talk to Hitler?” I say, my throat filling with anxiety.

“Wrong war,” Max chuckles. I see Elliot fighting back a laugh too.

“You said that and I completely believed you,” Cass says, gently with a smile. Elliot finally lets out his laugh softly.

“But, really, I think a diplomat sent it, not the leader,” Elliot says.

“How do you know who sent it?” Max questions, eyeing Elliot.

“The Zimmerman telegram… was sent by a man named Zimmerman,” Elliot spits. Things are getting tense. Max’s glare speaks volumes. I decide––even though I have no idea what’s going on––that I need to break the tension. And, what better than comedic relief? My personal favorite way to be funny is to embarrass myself. I fake fluff my dress and pretend that somehow I lost my balance on the hill. I roll myself down and flop onto the ground. Elliot immediately rushes to help me up. I take his hand and stand up from the hill.

“You ok?” he asks softly. I nod up at him, laughing. He shakes his head. Max’s attention has turned away from Elliot now, just as I intended. We finally make it to the city. This is the first time we’ve been outside of the US.

“Does anyone speak German?” Elliot asks.

“So, I take it at school, but I’ve only taken two semesters, I was just beginning my third semester this year,” I say.

Cass look at me and smiles, “Great, Belle!”

The city is bustling, but it looks different from any other city I know––modern European cities or even our historical American cities. We approach a small group of merchants. Cass encourages me to speak to them.

“What do I say?” I ask her.

“Ask them where the embassy is,” she suggests. I raise an eyebrow. She nods, “Don’t know that one? Uh, just ask where Arthur Zimmerman is.” That I can do.

The German men stare at me as I approach. The stare isn’t a good one, either. I shudder it off and gently ask them the question. The men laugh at me, as rudely as they possibly could. I feel the presence of someone behind me, to my relief it’s Elliot. I repeat the question with Elliot’s presence, which seems to peak the men’s interest. Elliot grabs my shoulder and repeats the same question that I’ve been saying, but he doesn’t get laughed at. The men turn their attention up to him and answer the question.

I don’t understand the answer perfectly, but I think that we need to go to a street called School Street. Elliot says something back to him in German. He thanks him and asks which direction School Street is. I look up at him. We step away and walk back towards the other side of the street, where Cass and Max chat.

“You speak German?” I question. His hand still grips my shoulders and suddenly that grip strengthens.

“No” he says, bearing incredible pressure on my shoulder, “Cassidy thinks I’m a show off and I’m trying to prove to her that I’m not. Max doesn’t respect you and this will make him respect you. You translated, got it?”

“Yup,” I say. His grip on my shoulder relaxes, but his hand rests there until we’re right in front of Max and Cass. Elliot walks beside Cass and whispers something in her ear. I glance between the other three.

“Belle, you said that it was on Garden Street, which is three blocks that way, right?” Elliot asks me, pointing to his left.

“Yes,” I say.

“Alright, lead the way,” he says. I turn towards the cobblestone path and start walking. I start to think about what’s happened. Max is questioning the mission. Cass is telling me not to ask questions and not to trust people. Elliot is hiding the most ridiculous secret from Cass, but evidently they’re whispering about something I don’t know. I glance back at them. They all walk separately. I need to talk to Max. I slow my pace slightly.

“What is going on with you three?” I ask him. He glances over at me.

“I’m sorry?” he says, looking into my eyes.

“What is going on with you, Elliot and Cass?” I clarify. He inhales sharply before nodding.

“Nothing to worry about,” he says quietly. I pout at him a bit.

“I’m just curious. Not worried,” I say, hoping he’ll give in and divulge the secret.

“Let’s just say that I need to figure it out, but I’ll get back to you. I promise,” he says. I nod, but sigh quietly. Why? He eventually parts with me, walking closer to Cass and Elliot.

Eventually we arrive at Zimmerman’s place of work. Elliot steps beside me and asks me to knock on the door. Cass and Max hang away at the end of the stairs. I knock on the wooden door. The sound of someone shuffling inside gets closer and closer until the door opens at last. A man with a ridiculous mustache opens it.

He greets us in German, but Elliot replies to him in English.

“I am a professional on war communication, may I speak with you?” Elliot asks.

The man nods and responds, in English, “Of course. Please come inside, sir.” he steps into the doorway and I follow shortly behind him. Zimmerman leads us into a cozy office space, complete with a fireplace. Elliot pulls out a chair from in front of the desk and sits.

“The girl is welcome to sit outside,” he says. Elliot looks at me and nods. I step out of the office space, closing the door behind me. Instead of sitting in the chair, I press my ear to the door and listen for the conversation.

“Sorry, what was your name again?” Zimmerman’s voice echoes.

“Eli Ralph, sir. Arthur Zimmerman, correct?” Elliot says.

“Yes. What did you wish to speak about? Are you American?”

“I am American by birth, but have been loyal to the German cause for years now. I just wanted to speak to you with a word of advice that I heard from my American contacts,” Elliot continues.

“Okay, Eli,” Zimmerman says. I hear Elliot scoot his chair, before he continues to talk.

“Your telegrams are being captured, decoded and read by British Intelligence. Anything you send will be shared with the Americans and British. I have heard from my German contacts that you plan to send a message to Mexico. My advice? Don’t use a telegraph,” Elliot says. There’s silence for several moments and abruptly I hear the scraping of a chair against the floor. I leap to the opposite side of the hallway and sit down onto the chair. I look up gently as Elliot leaves the room. He walks over to me and motions for me to stand. I followed him out of the door. His hand grabs my elbow, exactly as Cass did this morning. I notice his other hand extend to the opposite side of the hallway, but don’t see why.

“For the record, you translated for me,” he says, releasing my arm. We walk down the steps as Cass and Max reappear from behind the corner.

“How’d it go?” Cass asks, look straight at me. Elliot answers, thankfully.

“Zimmerman wouldn’t listen to Belle, so she just translated. I don’t think that he trusts us, but he listened to my advice,” Elliot says.

“So, now what?” Max says with a sigh.

“We wait,” Cass says. Elliot fishes in his pocket for something. At least he pulls out several money papers.

“I figured this might buy us a hotel room,” Elliot comments. Cass’s face lights up.

“Those exist here?” she says, smiling. Elliot nods quietly.

“We passed one on the way here,” I mention. I saw it. The building is about three blocks away. Elliot leads us there, with Cass and Max talking just behind him. Once again, I feel completely left out.

Max and Elliot go alone to book the hotel room. I wait outside, with Cass.

“I’m really excited for a hot shower,” she says, laughing.

“Have water heaters been invented yet?” I ask, teasing. She squints at me.

“I’m afraid they haven’t been,” she says with a sigh of realization. Soon, the boys return from the building.

“We got two!” Max says, smiling. I nod at him, knowing I’ll probably be stuck with him. Maybe we can have a boys’ room and a girls’ room.

I suggest the idea, “So, one for boys and one for girls?” Elliot glances over at Max.

“The rooms can’t be checked out by women. Elliot added Cassidy to his room and I put you on mine, Belle,” Max explains. I sigh. I like Max, but I feel that I only ever get placed with him because Cass was avoiding him and the patriarchy kills anything else.

“Oh, no worries,” I say, at last. I see Cass looking at Elliot intensely, as her eyes wide open and her mouth just slightly parted.

The four of us walk into the building and towards our room. Max and I’s room is just diagonal from Elliot and Cass’s. Two twin beds are symmetrically on each side of the room. I walk over to the bed near the window to claim it. Max doesn’t speak to me for a while, instead just staring off into space.

“I think that we’re being lied to,” Max says at last. I sharply turn to my head to face him. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, his head stays staring right at the wall.

“By who?” I ask. He is quiet upon my question. What is he talking about? Cass? Elliot? I think back on the events of the day: Cass hushing me, Elliot asking me to lie. Max takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling.

“By everyone,” he whispers, still not looking in my direction.

“Cass and Elliot?” I whisper back, their room is far enough away that they shouldn’t hear us. But, I imagine myself standing at Zimmerman’s door, hearing every word without Zimmerman or Elliot knowing. Perhaps Elliot and Cass are currently doing the same.

“Yes. And maybe the people who sent us here,” he whispers. I stand up straight, ending my reliance on the window sill. Finally, he glances in my direction. I get a sense that he’s looking at the window, but I prefer this to him looking at the ceiling.

“What do you think is going on, then?” I ask. He stares at me in silence. This time I sense that he’s simply not going to answer. I ask another question, “Who should I trust?”

“No one. Not even me,” he says, still in a hushed tone. I bite the inside of my cheek.