Esther made her way through the autumn leaves with her coat hanging on her shoulder. Most shop windows that she passed on her way had a sign hanging that said "NO JEWS ALLOWED" written in large letters. As she glanced into the shop, angry shopkeepers would glare back at her. If looks could kill, she thought to herself. She was spotted by the large baker with a thick blonde beard and a serious expression. "Identity pass please," he orders. Esther felt her hand grasp the worn out leather of her identity pass. She pulled it out and handed it over to him. Inside was a photo of her from a year ago, she was 14. In neat handwriting were the words; Esther Sarah Abram. Her middle name hadn't always been Sara. It was Hitler who gave her the name, who gave all Jewish females the name Sara and all Jewish males the name Israel. It was so they could identify Jews faster, if they couldn't already tell from the large letter "J" stamped on her pass.
Her stomach growled loudly. The baker beckoned her into the empty shop and reduced his voice to a whisper, "Are you the daughter of Chaya and Leon Abram?"
Esther nodded. The baker disappeared behind a door and returned with a small sack. It's contents were warm and smelled fresh. "You could've been caught helping me," she whispered.
"I'd rather help out a fellow human being than do nothing at all. I'll miss seeing your Papa in the store next door," he murmured in a concerned tone.
"Thank you sir," she beamed as she slipped out the store and wandered home.
The only moderately safe route home was past the city center of Berlin. Esther walked as fast as she could, trying to avoid looking at the blood. There were public executions held in the city center, where those who opposed Hitler were beaten, killed and nailed to posts. Her stomach churned as she glimpsed a dry patch a crimson splattered across the cobblestones in front of her. Esther instantly recalled the hair-raising cries of people calling for their relatives and lovers, long after they had been shot. She hurried home with the pain in her heart and warm bread in her hands. Esther arrived home and showed her mother the fresh bread she'd been given from the baker. "Tonight we are lucky!" she said delightedly. Esther helped her mother prepare dinner for the family. She chopped up five potatoes, two carrots and a rabbit freshly skinned by her father. Her mother pulled out a large pot filled with water and created a flame underneath it. All the ingredients for the soup were plopped into the water as it started to boil. A slender grey cat skittered over to the kitchen, eyeballing the rabbit entrails. "Here you go Felix" said Esther as she fed him the last pieces of meat.
Chaya leaned against the kitchen bench , the fatigue showing on her face. "Mama, are you alright?" asked Esther. Chaya let out a shuddering sigh.
"Esther, you know your Papa and I have been working very hard lately, but things have changed." Her hands were trembling as she stirred the soup. "Since the beginning of the Third Reich three years ago, we've been struggling to keep our bookstore open/" Before her mother could finish, the truth dawned on Esther.
That's what the baker meant when he said he'll miss my Papa. Esther felt the shock wrap around her like a snake, suffocating her. "Hitler demands that no Jew shall operate their own business". Chaya choked on her words as tears rolled down her cheek. "We no longer have the bookstore". Esther sank to the ground and cradles her face in her hands. The bookstore she'd known since the moment she was born was about to be stripped away from her family. There was nothing she could do about it.
The Abram family sat in silence while they dipped bread into hot soup. The only sound that could be heard was the crackle of the radio, until finally a crisp voice emerged. "The date is September 29, 1936 and this is Secret identity #24 reporting tonight". Secret identity #24 was Frank, a man who used to work as a journalist, but was fired by his Aryan boss simply because he was Jewish. He began a secret Jewish radio channel in Berlin as a means to thwart the Nazi propaganda and lies. It was impossible to win the battle against the Nazi propaganda and information Minister, Josef Goebbels, better known as "poison dwarf". He was notorious for bending the truth, so much that even other Nazis were suspicious of him.
Esther's attention snapped back to the radio, "Although there has been rumours, it had been confirmed by several workers that a concentration camp for Jews has been established and goes by the name Sachsenhausen. It was opened six days ago on September 23, in Orangeburg. A warning has been sent out to all Jews living in Berlin to keep an eye out for any suspicious Nazi activity. Berlin Jews will be the first . . ."
The radio was cut off by fists banging against the front door. Esther ran to protect her younger brother, Seppo. Just incase it was them, she thought to herself. The SA.
It wasn't. Mrs. Dublon was at the door in her nightgown, quaking in fright. "What's the matter Mrs. Dublon?" asked Esther's father anxiously. She gasped for air and uttered a few words in a raspy voice, "Sa. At the bookstore."
"What?" cried Leon but he didn't wait for an answer as he tore his coat off the hook and sprinted towards the city center. Esther scampered after him, leaving her mother's screams ringing behind her in the darkness.
