A Tale of Two Thieves

Sofia Roth is a short, skinny nine-year-old who lives in the rich part of Bechden. Let me paint a picture for you. She has a long mane of dangerous red, tousled hair, not ideal in Nazi Germany. Her white-porcelain skin is pale enough to reflect the midday sun and her dark blue eyes are deep enough to drown in. Her family lives at 13 Reich Street, a street that is high above the rest of the town and where the rich dwell with the only purpose of looking down on the poor. But Sofia was different. She preferred to play with the poor children, finding their games of soccer more interesting than parading around Reich street. Of course, her parents never knew this. If Anne and Max Roth found out that Sofia was fraternizing with such people...

December 1938

"Pass it here saumensch!" Sofia ignored the yell of her teammate and sprinted towards the goal. She was so close she could taste victory and felt the blood pumping in her ears. A few metres away from the goal she shot, and slipped to the icy ground of Schmutz Street. She watched as if in slow motion, the ball barreling towards the goal, but at the last second it was deflected by Jakob Schultz. That bastard. She looked down at her bloodied leg, "Mama's going to kill me." Dejected, she walked back home to Reich Street, wild cover-up stories chasing each other around her head. "Oh, a dog attacked me while I was walking," and "I slipped down some stairs," gave way to, "Someone tried to mug me," and, "An old man threw me over a fence." As far-fetched as these stories were, they were all better than the truth. Sofia's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a large group of people, perhaps a family, piled onto one bike and walking along-side it. One of the older-looking boys around her age caught her staring at them and gave her a toothy smile and wave. Cautiously, Sofia returned the wave, then started speed-walking to hide her embarrassment at being caught staring. In her rush to get home she forgot all her cover-up stories and had to endure a severe watschen (pronounced 'vachen') for failing to produce an explanation for her ripped tights and bloodied leg.

The next day the boy swam amongst her thoughts as she walked down to Schmutz Street. Who was he? Was he new in town? At last, she reached her destination and was dumb-founded when she saw the mysterious boy warming up with the others. "Saumensch!" one of them called out, "This is Luka Braun. He's on your team, put him in goal." Luka strode over to Sofia, wiggled his eyebrows and said, "I'm too good for goal." He punctuated this claim with a mischievous grin, his light blue eyes dancing, but Sofia was not so easily won. "You'll stay in goal if you keep that up, Braun."                                                      "I was only joking Saumensch," He was taller than Sofia but she was resolute, so he winked and bounced off to the goal, his brown hair shining in the bright winter sun. The ball was thrown into play and they were off, running around the street and having the time of their lives. Luka blocked almost every ball fired at him and their team's points went up and up until there was no hope of the other team winning. Sofia got the ball past Jakob easily. With her and Luka on the same team, they were unstoppable. The teams played until the sky turned orange and that was when they shook hands, as was the tradition at the end of every soccer day. When Sofia got to Luka he winked at her and said, "not bad, saumensch," in that typical boy way which, as Sofia would find out in the years to come, meant he liked her.

September 1939

Fast forward a few months, many soccer games, days with Luka and into 1939, we find ourselves at Sofia's Birthday. She woke up as usual and went to breakfast as usual. There were presents to be opened and soon the floor was littered with wrapping paper. After this phase of her birthday Anne asked her daughter a very simple question. "What would you like to do today?" Although this simple question usually has a simple answer, Sofia froze. How could she leave her parents to meet with Luka on her birthday without arousing suspicion? "I—uh—I..." began Sofia. "I need time to think about it," she said breathlessly and ran to her bedroom. What could she say? "Oh, I want to go skip stones on the river with Luka." Yeah right, then she'd spend her time locked in her bedroom. Luka is from Schmutz Street. Schmutz. Dirt. Street of dirt. Her parents would sooner let her join the Russians. Well, maybe not, but you get the point. But the great thing about the human mind is that, on rare occasions, it's hit by a brain wave. This was one such occasion, and the brain wave almost bowled her over as it hit her. Sofia opened her door quietly and walked back into the dining room where her parents were still sitting. "For my birthday today," Sofia began, "I would like to tour the town by myself. I have never seen it properly, only our street."                                                                                                                      "Why would you want to do that? You would have to go near the poor districts! The filthy peasants there will see you in one moment and pickpockets will strip you of all you have."                                                                                                                                        "I'll be fine."                                                                                                                                                            "Very well, but if you lose so much as a penny and I'll string you up by your toes." Sofia couldn't believe her luck, despite being threatened. Trust her mother to only care about their very little money, and not her daughter's welfare. Regardless, before Sofia's parents could change their minds she raced out the door and into the crisp Autumn air.