I pulled at the collar of my blouse.
"Mama, this doesn't fit anymore!" I said over my shoulder.
"We can let out the seam when we get home," she said as she tugged on her gloves.
"Mother," Otto whispered from the doorway. He stood in the blue-grey jacket and black pants of a Nazi uniform. I could have screamed. Silence swallowed the room.
You never know who can hear. I smiled from ear to ear, though it pained me.
"You look wonderful! Doesn't he Mama? So...grown up!" Papa stared at me from the top of his Zeitung; I detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. I had learned well. Mama smiled at him, he really did look wonderful. Like my uniform, his was tailored as if it had been made exactly for him, high lighting his broad shoulders. Jan didn't know the difference; that the emblem on Otto's shoulder was representing a party who called for his people's blood.
"Come Jan, get your coat on," mama's voice thawed but did not get rid of the silence. I looked at her in confusion.
"Where is he going?" I knew that, being a Jew, he would not be allowed at the school functions. Why would he go to the concert?
"He's going to Eva Strauss's house." Right. Eva. He would be alright with them; it was only a couple hours. Otto helped him with his shoe laces, smiling and rumpling his hair. Jan jumped and snagged Otto's hat, to which he scooped up Jan's slight frame and tickled him mercilessly until the hat was returned.
Ironic. He who joins with killers plays with the victim.
We trooped out of the house, down several streets until we reached the brightly lit home of the Strauss family.
"Mama, I don't want to." Jan crossed his arms.
"Come on, you have to. It will only be for a little while." Papa held out his hand to guide him up the steps, but instead he turned and flung himself into Otto and my arms. We embraced; I didn't know how long it had been since we hugged all three of us together. Jan sighed with satisfaction, before turning and skipping up the steps. He waved from the front door when he was let inside, grinning. Funny how just a loving hug could change his mood. We continued on to the school. Otto did not stick out, most of the men were in Nazi uniforms, scattered about the room, waiting for their children to perform. Mama took my outer wear, wished me luck, and headed off to find seats in the auditorium. We warmed up, and filed on stage. Of course, we opened with the national anthem, but moved on to the traditional Christmas carols, our voices lilting beautifully through the air. I could not wait for the end; we were singing one of my favorite Christmas carols.
Stille Nacht
Heilige Nacht
Alles schläft
Einsam wacht
Nur das traute hoch heilige Paar
Holder Knab' im lockigen Haar
Schlafe in Himmlische Ruh!
Schlafe in Himmlische Ruh!
Our parents began to sing along with the final verses. Snow had begun to fall heavily outside the massive windows; everything was perfect. Our mothers had made cookies, hot chocolate, and coffee for after the program; the sugar shortages we had heard of in other countries had not yet reached our doors. Otto and I trudged home, gradually allowing Mama and Papa to go farther and farther ahead of us. Otto stopped and gently tugged my arm.
"Up there!" he said and pointed to the sky full of stars. I looked and studied the mesmerizing pinpricks of light.
"I love stars," I said, studying them.
"Do you see the really bright one? Right..." he adjusted my stance and bent to my level, "there!" I nodded. "That's the North Star. If you can find that star, you can find your way anywhere." I turned and folded my arms around him.
"You can find your way home to us." Otto pulled me close to him.
"Yes, when this is all over." Like a gentlemen, he offered me his arm, and we hurried home through the snow. We took the side streets to get to the Strauss's faster, it was getting on 9:30. We turned the corner onto their street, and I stopped in my tracks. The lights were out. Glass covered the ground, store fronts had been broken into. The Star of David was painted on one wall. None of us moved.
"Stay!" Papa commanded, taking off with Otto to the empty houses. Mama collapsed, weeping; I stayed to comfort her. I was breathing heavily; this wasn't right, something was wrong.
"Jan!" I shouted. "Jan! Come out! This isn't time for games!" There was no answer. Otto and Papa returned.
"He's a clever boy, perhaps he saw them coming and went home." Papa helped Mama stand, but Otto and I couldn't wait. As if in slow motion, we ran the four blocks to our house. It was as if in slow motion, we couldn't get there fast enough. Otto stopped so fast I nearly ran him over; the lights were out at our house, the street peaceful. Otto's fingers fumbled with his key, but we wasted no time once the door was thrown open. We called his name, checked under beds, in the attic, under the table, under the sink, in closets, every where. But Jan was no where. From outside I heard Papa and Mama yelling and screaming Jan's name. I pressed my hands against my face, sobbing, and collapsed against Jan's bed. Otto fell beside me, wrapped me in his arms, and wept.
Jan was gone, and we would never see him again.
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Historical FictionIt's 1940, and the beautiful world thirteen year old Alina Fischer has grown up in is changing. It's hard to believe anything could change in the sleepy village of Felsental, outside of Cologne, Germany. But the world is changing, and with many stra...
