A Lifetime to Die

By P.S. Meronek

In a sweeping saga of familial betrayal spanning three decades of intertwining lives, Aristotle Mercury finally gets his chance for justice. Telly, as his new friends in America call him, escapes from Prague just as the Red Army’s tanks roll into the heart of the city. Even with all his success in his new country, never too far from his mind and always there to haunt and motivate him, Telly dreams of the day he will finally return to his homeland to take back what is rightfully his and exact vengeance on those that betrayed him. But does righting the wrongs of a demon filled closet come with a price too high? Secrets are sometimes better left untold in spite of their screams from across the years to be heard.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780985709624

Book preview

1968

Chapter 1

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back, she said. But Mama, I complained, agitated. The heavy cotton bandage that covered her hand worried me.

Go, Aristotle! She was annoyed. Now. Before he leaves. She slapped me on the back of my head a little harder than she normally did, using her good hand. Even at sixteen I could never argue with her, so I did the same thing I’d always done: I leaned over and kissed her.

I love you, Mama, I said.

My baby, she said, suddenly turning as mushy as her best potato borscht. She sighed. I’m not always going to be around to... She trailed off, searching me for something. Her eyes looked sad, and more tired than usual. I felt lately that when she looked at me she was seeing someone else. I’d never bring it up, but I knew who it was. Looking back I could honestly say I’d never really known him.

My father had been killed in the factory under a press when I was eleven. One week later there was the fire. I remembered Mama shaking me awake in the middle of the night, the smoke all around us like a breathing black cloud. I could barely see her. I coughed and hacked, my eyes stinging like hell, but we both made it out alive. By the time the neighborhood showed up to help put it out, it was too late. All we could do was watch our house and everything we owned inside it burn to the ground. Some fire trucks got there in time to keep the fire from spreading all the way down the block. Every place was connected to the next, but the fire only destroyed four more homes before they finally put it out. They never did find what started it.

Pop had invested all our money with Uncle Jake when I was just a kid. It was hard for Mama to tell me this. She had only mentioned it once, in a moment of weakness, when I had saved every dime I could and taken her out to La Provence for her birthday the year before. I had wanted to know about Pop, and what happened at the factory. No one had ever told me.

Why? she laughed, inconsequentially. She didn’t fool me for a second. It wasn’t like Mama to be nervous. I became even more curious.

It’s important to me, Mama. I don’t know anything about him, I pressed her.

Your Uncle Jake –

Is an idiot!

Aristotle!

Well, he is. You were the one who told me that, remember? And where is he now? He never cared about us before. I bet we haven’t seen him in four years, not since the funeral.

She was silent then, sniffling a bit. She reached into her purse for a handkerchief. But the things I’d said about Uncle Jake were true. From what I knew of him he was a real sleaze. Sure, he paid for the funeral, but I had heard him talking about it right afterward with the priest, bragging about it. In his own words, his brother could, ‘fuck up boiling water if you only gave him half the chance’. It was the first time in my life when I understood what it was like to really hate someone.

Aristotle, your hand!

I let go of the knife I’d been holding. It clattered noisily onto my plate. My thumb had wandered onto the cutting edge of the knife while we were talking about Uncle Jake. Unknowingly my grip on it had tightened and now it was bleeding. Mama took my hand and started dabbing at my thumb with her ‘handkerchief’ – some bunched up, coarse toilet paper she had brought along in her worn purse.

Self-consciously, I glanced around the restaurant as if I was seeing it for the first time. It was beautiful and very classy. If anyone had noticed my thumb they were ignoring us, but I felt embarrassed nevertheless. Compared to these people we might as well be dressed in rags. I had swept and put out the garbage at Mr. Randa’s market for two months for this. Sure, it was only part time, but two months’ work – for this! Sometimes I hated the way we had to live. Then I remembered who I was spending it on and my spirits lifted. Mama only had one birthday a year and I’d wanted her to enjoy at least that much.

It isn’t deep, she said. She tucked the red speckled toilet tissue back into her purse.

I looked at my thumb. The bleeding had stopped. I tried to take my hand away, but she held it fast.

He gave me a job. We had nothing. Our home, our clothes, everything we had was gone. The fire took everything.

Sewing –

Was all he had open.

Bullshit, I hissed.

We would have starved. Or worse, she hissed back.

I pulled my hand away forcefully, but I was old enough to realize she was right. I was Mama’s only child. She would have done anything for me, even if that had meant prostituting herself. She was thin and frail, and the streets of Prague were mean and unforgiving. I shuddered to think about what could have happened. As bad as it was for us now, I knew it could have been a lot worse. What kind of a person would I be now if I had seen Mama go to bed with a different man every night? Or worse. Yeah, it could have been a lot worse.

I’m sorry, Mama, I sighed. I know how it was. She relaxed visibly across the table. I noticed the white cotton cloth across the top of it felt soft and clean to my touch. I had heard about the machines they used now to wash the linens.

I don’t like to see you upset. She spoke in a hushed voice, like the other diners in the room. The candle in the center of the table threw a pale, unkind light onto her face. She looked very tired, well beyond her thirty-three years. In the dim glow, lines I never noticed before appeared across her forehead. Mama had once been a beautiful woman – then Pop and time and a hard fate caught up to her. I wondered to myself if she ever thought about what life had been like when she’d been my age. I felt guilty because I knew she had done a lot for me since Pop had died.

Does it hurt again? I asked. I saw she was massaging her right hand. She tried to hide it at first, but the pain was worse and came to her more often, and she no longer could. The doctor said it was fatigue from always moving it the same way when she sewed the same patterns over and over again. I pleaded with her to go to Uncle Jake. He could get her some other job; it was a big factory. But even when I threatened to quit school and go to work she had been stoically steadfast, as now.

It’s not so bad. It comes and goes. Besides, I’ve got two weeks of holiday next month. It will mend itself then, when I can rest it.

I moved myself around the bench, closer to where she sat. I took her hand in mine and began to softly knead her fingers, working my way into her palm. After a few minutes the strain left her face. Strength and clarity moved into its place.

Thank you. You’re a good son.

I could get a job, Mama, I ventured.

You’ve already got one, she said flatly, slamming the door closed on any further discussion. The only way I agreed to that, as a compromise, was on your word that your grades would not slip. Learning is the only way out of this life. It’s the one thing no one can ever take from you. Without it, you’re just like everyone else. Look around you – you see the street hustlers, going nowhere fast. No one needs them. No one wants them. That’s no life. You have many skills, talents. But with no polish these will take you nowhere.

She was lecturing again, but if I debated her I knew dinner, and her birthday, would be ruined. I bit my tongue and let her talk. Mama was smart. Soon enough she’d see I was quiet and figure out she’d won this one.

You could sell your back, I suppose. You’re young and strong. You could do more of what you hate doing at the market for Mr. Randa. The world is full of dead-end jobs. I don’t want that for you. She searched my eyes, pleading. Your father had no schooling, and that left us vulnerable to people like his brother.

Now she had my attention. It was the first time she had ever mentioned Pop, Uncle Jake, and a problem in the same thought.

She sat back, sighing. You asked me about your father. She looked at me long and hard, weighing my right to know. You’ve grown up so fast. I hadn’t noticed. Time has passed so quickly.

I’m a man now, I encouraged her.

She smiled warmly at the thought, now spoken for the first time by her only son. It was us against the rest of this big, heartless world, but we had each other and we were equal to the struggle. Having a man by her side, no longer a boy, was comforting. Soon, in the blink of an eye, I would be finished with school. Then I could start working a good job and Mama could take a long rest while I looked after her for a change.

What did you mean, we were vulnerable to Uncle Jake? The idea stuck in my ribs like a rusty blade.

What I said was that your father had few skills. She spoke carefully, measuring every word. She didn’t have to worry. In my mind, Pop would always be a great man.

He was wonderful, I said.

Yes. That and more. Mama went for her purse and some clean tissue paper.

Tell me.

She nodded, and blew her nose.

You okay, Mama?

She nodded again, straightening in her seat. Suddenly she looked very dignified. Pop still had that effect on her even though he’d been gone four years. I silently cursed his factory. Right then and there I vowed to myself that hell would freeze over before I ever ended up working in that place. Mama was right about school. More and more, it seemed to me that it was the only way out.

She was smiling at me. The waiter finally got back with the coffee we had ordered. He placed it in front of us and left.

Mama finally began. I married your father because I loved him. There was no other reason. I didn’t care that we had nothing. We had each other and that was always more than enough. Her eyes were looking through me now, to a far off place, away from here and all these lousy realities. Her memories were pure and hers alone. She kept them in a secret place. Now she’d gone there for both of us. I was seeing Pop again, but through her eyes now.

Your father worked hard all his life, she continued, "but he never minded it. He was a strong man, like you, but he was missing your uncle’s smarts, so he always felt a little bit inadequate. I told him he was smart in other ways. He had a good job stuffing furniture at the factory. I sewed at first. Together we saved up enough money to buy the apartment. We even had a little left over.

Uncle Jacob moved to the city from a farm he’d been working on. At first, because he had no money, your father let him stay with us and got him a job at the factory loading trucks. Then I got pregnant. I had never seen your father so happy. Mama’s voice drifted on the gentle tide of sacred memories. He insisted I stop working immediately and would not let me do anything. Every day he hurried home after work to make sure everything was all right. He doted over me night and day and insisted I sleep while he rose early to make his own breakfast. That was the only time we ever argued. I was his wife. Pregnant or not, I would make my husband’s meals. He relented, finally, when he saw he could not stop me. We were so happy. She beamed dreamily. "And we were all the happier once we had you.

"For a few months everything went along just fine. The two brothers would catch the tram early every morning to work in Old Town. At lunch they would sit on the banks of the river; it was a short walk from the factory. Your father would talk about you and me. Jacob, on the other hand, was a constant dreamer, but it turned out he was actually realistic in his expectations. He talked of one day running his own factory.

At first your father found it humorous. Later he could see Jacob was quite serious about his intentions. He listened to Jacob’s plans and relayed them to me. I would listen while I fed you. I could tell from what he said how smart Jacob really was. We were the same age, but he was more capable of thinking in a roundabout way. He could see around corners.

What does that mean? I asked.

Mama thought carefully for a few seconds. She sipped her coffee before speaking again. "He was a strategist. He would know exactly what to say to whom, in exactly the right situation, in order to gain the support of whomever he needed. He made friends easily in this manner. He had a vision. He always knew where he was headed and seemed to instinctively know how he was going to get there. It was one of the strongest parts of his character, but also one of his weakest.

I never trusted Jacob. I knew it was rooted in that part of him I’ve just described. In a way, I suppose, he was what they call ruthless.

Why should that have bothered you? I interjected.

Because I knew sooner or later it would involve us, she said coldly. "It became clear Jacob had his own agenda. From his position in the loading bay he learned a great deal about how things worked in the factory. The raw fibers and other materials would come in and Jacob would unload them. He soon took over ordering them based on the different production requirements of the factory. He could tell how busy they were going to be the next month because he made friends with the man in charge of the order desk. It wasn’t long before he was promoted to be in charge of shipping and receiving, and still he looked at this new promotion only as a means to an end. It was ‘just another step on the big ladder’, he would say. He spent less and less time with us. I remember your father’s disappointment when Jacob stopped having lunch with him. He was ‘too busy’, he said, but your father would see him leave with some of the men from the office. It hurt him, but he told me he understood. There was always disquiet in Jacob’s manner. He had ambitions, and we did not. We were happy with what we had, with each other, and with you.

And then, when you were about two years old, Jacob said goodbye and moved into his own apartment in the Mala Strana, not far from the Charles Bridge. I heard it was a very nice home for him.

Didn’t you see it? I asked.

Mama shook her head. "Your father never saw much of his brother at all after that. I was busy with you. I practically never saw him, maybe once or twice at a Christmas party for the workers.

One day he did come around, though. That was the day my suspicions were confirmed. He needed money.

What for?

For bribing the Minister. He was starting his own factory.

Chapter 2

But why Pop?

He needed a partner, explained Mama.

Yeah, but there must have been all kinds of people who wanted to go into business with him.

"No one like your father. He had three things that when taken together were absolutely necessary to Jacob for him to succeed in his bid for a new textile factory. The first was the need for trust. The State is a treacherous place in which to do business and Jacob needed someone by his side who could keep a secret. Secondly, he knew we had enough money because he knew we owned the apartment. He was able to persuade us to borrow what he needed by using our home as collateral. That was the third thing: Both your father and I were naive enough to help him. I was against it at first myself, but your father kept reminding me we were family. On his insistence, and on Jacob’s guarantee the money would be repaid when the factory became operational, I finally relented.

I knew very little about business, and even less about how it was done in this city. I did know the State owned everything, but that didn’t matter much when you ran things. From what I could tell, the people who ran the factories might as well have owned them. They got everything they wanted and lived like kings. Soon he’d moved near Prague Castle and every year he’d somehow manage to get his hands on a new Mercedes. That was a major trick – it was real status. Obviously, he knew people in high places.

I guess I never really thought it through. For some reason I just assumed Uncle Jake had always been rich and powerful. But from small acorns grew giant oak trees. To find out the acorn had been my parents was almost too much to believe.

Did he pay you and Pop back? I asked. The story was incredible.

There were problems, Mama evaded.

He never paid you back? I was incredulous.

For the first time Mama seemed embarrassed. It wasn’t so black and white.

What do you mean, not so black and white? I was livid. Pop – and you – loaned him the money. Either he paid you back, or... I stopped, my thoughts racing ahead of my words. He didn’t, I said quietly. That’s why you have to keep working. You’re still paying for the old place. That son of a bitch.

Stop that. She gave me a hard look. He talked to us. He explained things. Jacob needed more time. He and your father worked out an arrangement.

What kind of an arrangement? I was unable to hide my contempt.

Well, it wouldn’t be a loan. We would all be partners, but your father and I would still be paid back. Later.

Mama was in over her head and the water just kept rising. She was doing it for me, though, and for Pop. I thought by now she must sound dumb even to herself. But what was started in the way of an explanation had to be finished. After all, I was the one who’d asked. I realized too, that I couldn’t blame them. It had been a long time ago. She and Pop had been a couple of kids. I did blame Uncle Jake, though. It was clear he’d taken advantage of their good hearts in every way possible.

...were paid. Suddenly I was aware of Mama’s voice again. They took the money, but Jacob explained how you just couldn’t take it back out of the company. Not right away, at any rate. There was always somebody watching, especially with something as new as this was. Jacob had never managed a company before. He said it was like they had him under a microscope.

That was a long time ago, I said. Simple math told me it had been at least thirteen years since they’d given Uncle Jake the money.

Yes, I know, Mama said quietly. She stared at me for another moment and then the flood of tears came. I silently cursed myself for being so insensitive. Of course they’d screwed up. I didn’t need to remind her of it, let alone berate her.

I sat beside her and held her. It’s all right, Mama. It’s okay. I massaged her back gently.

The maître d’ had noticed. He was coming toward us when I waved him away. He nodded professionally. Although still concerned, he retreated, keeping a discreetly watchful eye on us. He’d seen a lot worse.

We tried to do the right thing. All these years... Mama shook her head incredulously. I only wanted the best for you.

I know, Mama. I know, I held her. There was no way you could have known what Uncle Jake was like. You had to trust him; it was all you could do. He needed your help and you were family.

I didn’t say what I really thought: Uncle Jake was a reptile, a vampire who’d sucked dry the blood of his brother and his family.

I’m sorry. I want to be strong for you. I’ve had to be. She was more under control now. She reached up to my face and stroked my cheek as if I was made of feathers. Her fingers trembled. I saw she was scared.

You have been, Mama. I tried desperately to hold back my own tears. I didn’t want to fail her. I vowed to never make the same mistake I’d just made again. It wasn’t her fault, or Pop’s.

I was the only man in Mama’s life now. There was no one else. Now was as good a time as any to start acting like it. I desperately wanted to give back some of the strength she’d shown me all these years. I fought to think of something I could say that would help.

You said you and Pop made a new agreement with Uncle Jake after he told you the first time he couldn’t pay you back right away. Suddenly I was hopeful. Did Pop ever write anything down on paper? Anything at all? Mama was drying her eyes. I shifted back to my position opposite her. Did he ever see a lawyer?

No, she said emphatically, shaking her head. No one outside the three of us ever knew anything about the bribes, only the men who received them.

That was understandable. Bribery was commonplace, but getting caught doing it meant big trouble. More money involved meant a longer sentence on the receiving end, too. An apartment was a lot of cash. It was a twisted irony, but for that reason no one else could be involved. Still, they could have put something in writing – anything.

I remember talking to your father about it. Mama was thinking out loud. I remember asking him if it would be good to have some sort of contract, something that would prove we loaned Jacob the money, just in case.

What did Pop say?

She shrugged. What did he always say?

Family. I pounded my fist into the table, rattling the silverware. I looked apologetically over to where the maître d’ stood at his station. This time he glared back at me.

Your father used to say that if you can’t trust your own brother, then who can you trust? said Mama wearily.

Perhaps no one, I thought to myself. You and Pop did the right thing.

I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do, but we made sure none of it ever affected you.

Thank you, Mama. I leaned over and kissed her. I have wanted for nothing because I’ve had your love.

Mama returned my smile. I’ll always have you, won’t I? We’ll always have each other.

Count on it, Mama, I said. I was glad to give her something to be happy about. So are you sure Pop never had anything in writing?

Not as far as I’m aware, said Mama. I think if he did he would have told me.

And all these years, Uncle Jake never paid you a dime on your investment.

He would always come up with an excuse, Mama explained. I think he wanted to, at first. Pay us back, I mean. I think he must have tried to get the money; he never ever said he didn’t owe it to us, not to this day. But in the beginning, when the factory was starting up, they really were watching him closely. Later on, well, I think Jacob just fell into the habit of not paying us back. It became easy to put us off.

A lot easier than having the partnership, I agreed acidly.

Mama ignored me because not so deep down, although she would never admit it, she probably agreed with me. I thought surely that some part of her must hate Uncle Jake for what he continued to do to us.

She continued. After your father was killed I tried to reach Jacob, to talk with him. He was always too busy. Then it got to the point where it became impossible to speak with him at all. He is an important man now, and a secretary screens all his calls. I was never sure he got my messages.

Mama was trusting to a fault.

I finally just gave up, she said lamely.

I knew why. It must have been embarrassing for her. She must have felt like a common beggar. Mama had more dignity than to go on with the charade any longer than she had. It was obvious she had only done so because of me and of her fear of not having Pop around.

But she was a strong woman. She rolled up her sleeves and went back to work. It was tough at first. I knew the hardest part had been dealing with her guilt at not always being there for me. But I matured early, and showed her that I could handle being home from school before she got home from work. After a while Mama had learned to trust me as much as I always trusted her.

But now, almost sixteen months later, Mama had the accident that crippled her hand. That took the decision for me to quit school away from her. We couldn’t survive with no form of income. The State didn’t look very kindly upon able-bodied young men who didn’t work. I knew if I wasn’t careful I’d end up in the army.

Her hand wasn’t getting any better, either. If anything, it, and she, seemed to be worsening. It worried me.

I’m going to drop by the Market on my way over there. They still owe me for the last couple of weeks, I said, stalling. Mama looked heartbroken, but there was nothing either one of us could do about it now. This was the way it had to be. I’ll be back in time to go with you to the Doctor’s. I paused one last time halfway through the front threshold. You sure you’re okay, Mama?

Go. She waved me the rest of the way out the front door with her good hand. There was no conviction in her voice anymore.

Chapter 3

The cold bit into my skin through my threadbare gray coat. It had almost swallowed me when Mama first brought it home three years ago. She put in for it and they gave her the usual fifty percent discount. That was only fair – after all she’d made the damn thing. Now it was too small and I looked a little awkward wearing it. In the last two years I had probably put on thirty pounds or more.

Randa’s wasn’t far, though, probably about eight cobblestone blocks from our flat in New Town. I leaned into the light breeze, finding it more invigorating than uncomfortable. I walked past Vlade’s Butcher Shop on Na Slupi and rounded the corner at Chetska’s Bakery, then went up Vodickova and past innumerable other painted signs. They hung out over the sidewalk like wooden flags: Smetana’s Bakery, Dvorak’s Locksmith, Beran’s Seamstress – Specializing in Alterations. Finally, I ducked into Randa’s Market, where the tiny bell above the door tinkled pleasantly to announce my arrival.

Klara Pradlova looked up from the counter where she was making change for a customer. She smiled when she saw me. I blew into my cupped hands to warm them while I waited for her to finish.

Hi, Klara. Mr. Randa in? I got right to the point. I was in a hurry.

In the back. In a rush? She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

Yeah. I nodded, feeling guilty for brushing her off. She’d done nothing to deserve it. It wouldn’t hurt me to be polite. I’ve got to see someone after I leave here.

Sorry to hear about your mother.

Her sentiments were genuine. Klara was a genuinely sweet person. Her appearance was plain, and she carried a few extra pounds, but she wasn’t unpleasant to look at. I liked her, but it had never gone any further than that. Too bad, I thought to myself. Mama would have approved.

Thanks, I said at last.

How is she?

I don’t know, I said truthfully. We’re seeing the Doctor this afternoon. It’s going on two weeks since the accident. I would have thought she’d be a lot better by now, but it’s probably nothing.

I shrugged it off more casually than I felt, wondering if I’d said too much already. I grabbed an apple from the basket by the till and polished it on my coat. When I dug into my pocket for some money, Klara waved it off.

No charge, Telly. You know that.

Thanks, I said. In the back? I made a motion to leave.

Telly? She stopped me.

Yeah? I hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

Klara sighed. I always wanted to ask you two things.

And you’re going to, aren’t you? I took a bite from the apple and leaned onto the counter, giving her my full attention.

She laughed good-naturedly. Somehow, more by accident than design, I had turned it around.

Your name, she began.

You already know that. I smiled mischievously.

No, silly. Klara giggled. Not that. It’s, well, what kind of name is Aristotle Mercury anyway? It’s not Czech.

I laughed. It’s Greek. It’s my grandfather’s name.

You’re from Greece? Klara was amazed.

I said, Now you’re being silly. Of course not. I was born right here. So was my father. But his father was born in Greece, and the name got here when he did.

Klara was puzzled. Why did someone from Greece come here?

You’d have to ask my grandfather.

Where is he?

He died before I was born. I shrugged. What was the other one?

What one?

You said two questions. What was the second one? I had to leave soon.

Oh, that. Klara was suddenly shy, but it wasn’t stopping her. The bell over the door tinkled and a cold blast of January air blew in with a customer. We waited until the elderly woman had shuffled past us before she continued.

Well, she started slowly. I was thinking...Now that you’re not going to be working here anymore, why don’t you and I spend some more time together? Away from here, I mean. Away from the market.

You’re five years older than I am, Klara.

So? she asked. You’re not queer or anything like that, are you?

I laughed. Would it make a difference?

She began to think about it.

I’m not, I told her. Another few seconds and I knew it wouldn’t have made any difference anyway.

Well then? she asked. How about it? We could get...very close.

You have experience with that sort of thing? I whispered, feigning shock.

No! she stammered. I’m older is all.

I thought I heard a familiar voice, came Mr. Randa from nearby. I was saved.

I’ll give it my deepest consideration, I said quickly, winking at her.

You do that, Telly, she whispered. She was pissed.

Mr. Randa. I turned to accept the offer of his outstretched arm.

Hello, Aristotle. His smile was warm and friendly in contrast to the frosty glare I knew I was getting from Klara.

How is your mother? Deep crow’s feet from around his kind eyes disappeared as the smile faded from his face.

She’s mending. She’ll be all right, I said.

Come on back. Your pay is in the office. He guided me down the aisle of fresh fruit with his hand across my shoulders. His store, like most of those in Nove Mesto, was deep and narrow, deceptively large.

Coffee? he proffered once we got inside his partitioned office and closed the door.

I shook my head. I don’t have that much time, Mr. R.

He looked up at me with a silver kettle in his hand, poised to pour its contents into a ceramic mug. He looked surprised, but said nothing. I was never in a hurry.

Instead, he asked, Now tell me, how is Miss Katcha doing, really? He sat down on one of several plain wood-backed chairs, stirring cream into his mug with a silver spoon. He motioned me to sit in the chair opposite him with a nod of his head.

The way he referred to Mama wasn’t lost on me. He always put the miss in front of her first name as if it were a title. We had become like family: Klara, Mr. and Mrs. Randa, and the others. We knew each other, knew of everyone’s problems and concerns. All of us cared about one another. When we could, we looked after each other.

He watched me intently as he carefully sipped from the mug and then set it down on the old, heavy wooden desk in front of him. Steam curled lazily from the hot drink. Mr. Randa noticed, leaned back, and flipped a switch on one of the few luxuries he’d somehow acquired; an electric floor heater rattled and snapped in response.

She hurt her hand pretty bad. As I spoke the truth for the first time I suddenly realized how scared I was. I’m worried – scared. It was one of those industrial machines they use to sew the heavier fabric. Her hand was already getting worse before. It was seizing up on her or something. We’d be having dinner and her fork would suddenly go flying and Mama would grab her hand. She’d cry out, it was so damn painful. I didn’t know what to do. I feel so helpless. She still calls me her baby, and it’s times like that I sure feel like one. I stopped for a moment, collecting myself.

She hit the safety, but it was too late. The needle punched three holes through the back of her hand before she even knew what happened. She couldn’t help it.

I shuddered involuntarily and grabbed my own hand at the thought of it. I didn’t know whether to be

Reviews for A Lifetime to Die

[lurar-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A Lifetime to Die is a story of vengeance and overcoming one self. The book revolves around Aristotle (Telly) Mercury in Prague. After a treacherous act from his uncle, and a goal of revenge, Telly is forced to move from Czechoslovakia into the United States. Forced to start over, Telly meets new friends and challenges. "Time is my enemy now. It has taken me a lifetime to get to where I am. A lifetime to die."This book gave me mixed feelings, especially since it is written into parts. The first and a half part is magnificent, always building up the reader's interest. A strong 4.5 stars. We met Telly, his inner demons, and his new life while reaching adulthood. Sadly, the end of the book lacked its initial spark.After a while the book took me forever to finish. There are many characters introduced right off the bat, that you have to go back and check. There are some time lapses where Telly is in his 20's, and in the next page he is suddenly in his late 30's. Did this book confused me? Yes. Don't get me wrong, the story line was stunning and interesting, but as the story progressed, its spark kept fading. The story was interesting; definitely a to-read.

[cinachilders · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I thought this book, A Lifetime to Die, was just okay. I liked the writing style well enough. The story itself was okay, but it didn't really stick that much with me.

[doseofbella · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A Lifetime To DieBy: P.S. Meronek. Pages: 461Published by Ponytale PressCopy Courtesy of Goodreads GiveawayReviewed by: tkAbsolute Perfection....Meronek has written another captivating romance, with the combination of suspense that will keep you spellbound through the night.Aristotle and his mother are living a life of poverty, and heartache by the hands of Jacob Mercury. Old secrets, a devastateing fire, murder, and deceit, just how far will Jake go to secure his wealth. Aristotle learns the truth, and will not stop until Jake is taken down, and made to pay for his greed, and cruelty. Loved this story. Afraid to post any spoilers, so you will just have to dive in, and experience it for yourself. Believable characters, and a flow that reads like a dream, you will not be disappointed. Enjoy!!! 5/5

[Samantha Salazar · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

So powerful and truly captivating. This is a book I will surely never forget!

[flipperlover55 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

*I won this book through Goodreads First Reads giveaway. In no way has this influenced my rating or opinion of this book. Thank you to Goodreads and to P.S. Meronek for this opportunity.*I wish that I could give half stars, I would then have given this a 3 ½ stars rating.It is really challenging to write a review on a book and not give away any of the story line. This was a really good read. There were some wonderful parts to the story. It has a main character named Aristotle "Telly" Mercury. It covers his life from around age 14-15 through to about age 50. The story starts out with lots of detail. (which I usually don't like too much of in books, but in this case it worked initially for me.) There are points where it jumps forward to another point in his life. But it is in chronological order, so it still works and I don't feel that anything gets left out that is important. Plus there is a lot of information to cram into telling someones story from 14-50 years old. There are some really sad parts in the story in the beginning and I felt empathy and pain for the main character. Then Telly takes off for the USA and begins another chapter in his life. He seems happy and turns out to be really successful at what he does. So much so, that his landlady (Mrs. Schroeder) takes notice and challenges him to use the wonderful brain he has to become very successful. Which he does and does it well. He becomes very very rich. You get a sense that he is struggling to stay real and true to himself while having his life change so drastically from being impoverished to then becoming a very wealthy and well connected man. He even finds love. Then there is more tragedy that befalls him and once again I feel for him. I would have to say that the first two thirds of the book are detailed and flow just quick enough to keep me interested but not leave out too much. The last third of the book seems to get rushed and a lot of detail that I was used to from other chapters just gets dropped. There were characters that come into his life (Christina being one of them) that seem to be important people, but they are just briefly mentioned even though the impact they have on Telly's life is HUGE. I felt a little robbed and got a bit frustrated. Speaking of Christina, I was a little confused and to be honest, a little disturbed by her character. I felt once I truly knew who she was to Telly that the "relationship" they had was very disturbing and unnecessary for the story. Once more catastrophic events happen in his life. But because I was robbed of the connection, it was hard for me to feel as much as I did at the beginning of the story. The epilogue was really a disappointment to me. It was 4 ½ pages long and brings the final woman into Telly's life. Someone who was briefly mentioned earlier and that he swore he had no relationship with. Because of the lack of details, I was left even more confused as to how the relationship started, developed and became what I was being shown by the author. I still enjoyed the book. Just felt the last third of the book could have been handled better by the author so that I did not feel as let down at the end as I did. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys an adventure. That is how this book felt to me.