Vanished in Chicago (Vanished)

Now, here we are pulling up to Dziadek’s house, unannounced. I place my retina on the eye scanner and wait for the gate to open. Pulling up to the driveway, I see him open the door. “Jakub. What is going on?” He knows I would never come here without talking to him first if it wasn’t important.

Zef hugs him as we enter, and I walk straight into his office. “I respect you Dziadek, you know that. And I would never question you, but something is not adding up and now, we have a name and motive and I need you to be straight with me.”

“Alright then, spit it out boy.”

“Wozniak.” I watch as he stumbles back to his chair and falls into it. His face looks ashen and stricken and I am now on high alert.

“Dziadek? You know this name?” he nods his head and gestures for us to sit. He pulls his glasses from his face and begins cleaning them. I wait not so patiently for him to clear his throat and then he blows my fucking mind.

“When I was a young boy, not much older than you, in Poland, my Dziadek, Aurelian Zielinska, was the leader of the Pruszkow. He had three children: My father Mikolaj, a son named Balint who died when he was eighteen, killed by a rival family and he had a daughter named Elina. I was an only child, and the first son born to the only son left. I always knew my fate. My aunt married a man named Bogdi Wozniak. He was a nobody. He was a rat that had the ability to move within the elite. He courted her and pretended to love her, but my father knew his ultimate goal was to be embedded in our family. They had a son named Kuba.

Kuba and I were never close, mostly because his father used to fill his head with lies about the family, grooming him to hate us. My poor aunt, she was a broken woman at the hands of Bogdi. We tried to liberate her, but she was so far gone, drugged, and broken that it was no use.

When my grandfather died, in his will, he left it all to my father. In tradition, when my father passed, it should have gotten split between Kuba and I as the last standing blood males, but he was a savage. An animal bred to be the epitome of vile and unrepentant and so, I spilt nothing with him. I liquidated all of the assets in Polska and came to the U.S. I saw Kuba once before I left, and I hardly recognized him. It was like he had been raised by animals. He vowed vengeance.

When I got here, I paid some very connected political officials to ban any entry into this country under the name Wozniak, ever. I haven’t heard from them since.” Well shit. I fall back against the chair, flabbergasted. “I check on every immigrant who comes here from Polska. I also look for the name Womack.” I sit up in my seat when he says the name.

“Why would you be looking for the name Womack?”

“That is what some of them have changed that surname to.”

“Wait. Are you saying Wozniak has been changed to Womack in American?” When he nods his head, everything makes sense. Zef and I both look at each other, mouths open jumping out of our chairs.

“It’s him, Zef. It’s Paul.” I say as we run out of my grandfather's house. I hear my grandfather shouting my name, but I can’t stop. I have to find her. “Shit.” I shout as we run to the car.

“What?”

“She is supposed to be at school today. Something about registering for another class?”

“Shit.” He mimics my sentiment. I pull out my phone to call Al and Morris. When I get no answer from them everything turns gray.

Pulling up her tracker the dot shows me she is not at the school.

“She is not at the school.” I call her phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. My heart is booming as my brother zooms through the street. Hands fumbling and mind racing, I am thinking the worst. I call her phone once again and no answer. “Zef she is not answering. What the fuck?” The panic is starting to overtake me, and I don’t know if I can hold it together.

“Give me the address, Jak.” I pull it up on the map and see she is in a house on the Gold Coast off Astor Street. I give him the address before leaning my head back. In my mind, I am telling her I am coming for her. I am begging her to believe in me and I am praying to the God that probably stopped protecting me years ago, to protect her. She is innocent and without her…I will become the devil. “Who do we want to call?”