The Bluebirds

The Portrait

A/N: I wrote this short story for a school assignment so. Also, that why I even wrote something about Nazi Germany. 

The Portrait

The man in the portrait looked grim, his eyes hard. His mustache, right on his lip, was an ugly looking thing. He was, in her opinion, the ugliest and most revolting man she'd ever seen. But, of course, she couldn't say that. He was the Führer, the savior of Germany.

Eva turned away from the portrait. Dwelling on her thoughts would do no good for anyone. Moving behind the front counter, she got to work on folding the cloth that had been piled there. Her assistant, Hans, had left them there after he had finished with their last customer.

"Hans!" The boy came running from the back room, no doubt having wasted his time reading. The boy was maybe 15, and idealistic. Too good for the world we live in, Eva thought. "Make sure you put things away after you're done. And don't forget to do your chores," she gently reminded him. He nodded and ran back into the back room.

Eva went back to folding. First the red, then the pink, and finally the white. And then the needles. The door to the shop opened and a man stepped inside. He was in uniform, although she couldn't tell which one. It was black, with the standard standard red band around the arm. Eva froze.

The man didn't move for a moment, looking around the shop. He walked towards the displays in the windows and touched the fabric before turning around and facing Eva. By then, she could see the two zagged s's on the uniform and the skull and bones on his cover. She could almost feel her heart stop and she couldn't breathe for a moment.

The man's eyes stopped on her as he continued to observe the shop. "Are you Fraulein Schmidt?" His voice shook her from her stupor as she scrambled to come up with words. "That is me, yes." There was a pause before she asked, "And you?"

The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sergeant Kruger of the Schutzstaffel."

"And what is the reason behind your visit, Sergeant Kruger?" Her voice was steely and she silently cursed herself. She couldn't show defiance in anyway. She needed to calm her racing heart and act normal.

Sergeant Kruger raised his eyebrow but didn't address it. "We are searching for a man by the name of Peter Gellerman. He is an enemy of the state. We need your full cooperation." He rested his hand on his side arm, making sure that Eva could see the swastika on his left arm.

Eva faked concern. "What has this man done to become an enemy of the state? Is he a criminal?"

The sergeant shook his head. "He is worse than a criminal. He's a Jew." His face was covered in disgust as he said it, as if the words were bitter in his mouth.

Eva nodded and stepped out from behind the counter. She folded her hands over each other to stop them from shaking. "Of course. What can I do to assist you?" If she wasn't smarter than she was, she would think he could smell her fear, like a vicious dog.

He took his hand off his sidearm. "I'm to search your shop to see if you're hiding Jews. I'm sure, as a good citizen of Germany, you aren't. However, I must be sure. We cannot let Jews continue to ruin the motherland as they did before."

Eva held out her arms in a welcoming manner. "You are welcome to search, Sergeant." He walked in front of her, observing the front room of the shop before coming behind the desk that she had been standing at when he came in. "No cabinets?" He asked. She nodded.

The sergeant squatted and knocked on the desk. He seemed satisfied with the sound it made and stood up, dusting off his pants. He looked at her, "Let's move on."

He walked to the door to the back room and opened it. In it, Hans was sitting at his sewing machine, working on their last client's order. When he saw Sergeant Kruger, he stood quickly, giving Eva a scared glace. She shook her head and stood behind the sergeant.

The back room was cluttered, with two tables, each with different projects piled on them. There was barely any room for anything else and Eva and the sergeant had to squeeze in. The sergeant looked back at her, his face passive. "And the boy is...?"

"My assistant," Eva rushed out and Hans nodded. The sergeant looked back at the cluttered room and walked through the mess to the back wall. He slid his hand over a dark spot on the wall, a crack that ran from the top of the table to two feet above it. "What is this?"

"A crack my father made when he owned the shop." Eva covered, glancing at Hans momentarily. The sergeant turned around and faced her. "Let's go back to the main room." Eva made her way carefully through the mess and back into the main room, the sergeant following carefully behind her.

Behind the counter again, the sergeant once again observed the front of the shop. Eva was still on edge, and the stoic sergeant wasn't helping any of it. Finally, he spoke. "Someone will be back soon to search again. For now, however, your shop is fine. Continue your work. Rest assured, we will find the Jew."

Sergeant Kruger turned, making his way to leave. He stopped next to the portrait and pointed. "It's crooked." He continued walking.

His hand was on the door handle before Eva could stop herself. "The Jew? What will happen to him once he is captured?"

The sergeant didn't turn around but she could almost see his smile as he spoke. "He will get what all Jews deserve: death." He passed swiftly out the door, leaving a cold feeling crawling over Eva's skin.

Eva was staring at the door, lost in thought when Hans came out of the back room. "Is it safe now?" Eva shut her eyes for a second before opening them. "He's gone."

"Come," she ordered. Eva strided into the back room, pushing the table away from the wall. She pushed on the crack in the wall before it was thrust open. The girl on the other side stared at her, blinking as the light blinded her.

The girl was only 6 years old, a small child. Her big eyes looked up at Eva, scared out of her mind. "Are you alright," Eva asked. The girl nodded but said nothing. Eva assumed she was very used to silence by now.

Eva looked at Hans. "Give her the food. You were supposed to do that earlier."

"Yes, ma'am."

Eva stood up. Her skirt was gathering dust on the floor but she couldn't bring herself to care. She wandered into the front of the shop and found herself in front of the portrait. She couldn't help herself as the disgust rolled over her once again.

The man in the portrait was the one who decided all of it. He chose what happened. Death for Jews, his decision. She thought about the six year old girl hiding in the wall. Death, and likely a painful one, for that innocent little girl.

Eva shivered. The man in the portrait was truly the most revolting man she'd ever seen. And it wasn't just because of his mustache.