Broken Wings

A Sudden Disappearance

Maximilian Schüffen-   Munich, Germany 1941

Maximilian had disappeared. He no longer existed. At least not to the public. Ansel and Johann Schüffen reported him dead Friday morning. His name, his papers, his identity had mysteriously disappeared. Henrik Brandenburg, who went missing several years ago, had been found, and was returning to his hometown of Munich to continue his business of shoemaking and to live with his parents once more.

At least, this is what the public saw. But it is not what Maximilian saw. It is not what you will see, either.

Funny, the world isn't always what it seems.

❀❀❀

The summer sun had come and gone, as did the vibrant orange and red leaves on the trees. The nights became increasingly chilly, and tonight was no exception.

"It worked brilliant that night, Maximilian, it really did. If it worked on a spur-of-the-moment basis, then surely it will work long term if we do a bit of planning," Herr Brandenburg said at the dining table.

"You want me to be someone I'm not? Your son? What will he think of this?" Max asked incredulously.

"Maximilian, he's missing. We have no idea where Henrik is. The authorities gave up searching long ago. We could just say that you came back to us, and just want to live your life normally again," Frau Brandenburg answered.

"But when the S.S. officer came--"

"He will not remember. And if he does, then we will say it was meant to be kept a secret until tomorrow so we could announce it to everybody."

"I suppose so. Let's just hope he won't be angry with us for keeping a secret," Maximilian said, unsure.

"Nein. It will be fine, Maximilian, okay? Don't worry, we have many upper class friends that can help us. I'll contact some of them tonight, and by morning you'll no longer be Maximilian Schüffen," he reassured.

"Ja. Danke for everything, for risking your lives." A surge of thoughts hit Max. He was going to become someone he wasn't? He was going to pretend? What if they found out? Then they all would surely be killed.

This couldn't be right. Who was he any more? What kind of person was he to give up faith to save himself? And then Max thought of Else. He hadn't seen her since that fateful day he went into hiding. They had only exchanged letters a few times around her birthday. Now, they would never see each other. As he lay in bed that night, shivering, alone in a world of darkness, a sudden surge of guilt penetrated his soul.

Maximilian squeezed his pillow, crying out in despair.

"I am a traitor. I am a traitor!"

His throat tightened, his chest heaving with sobs. How could he do this? Was it even worth it any more?

He crouched to the ground, covering his face in despair, begging God for forgiveness. His face, usually so bright and sunny, smile lines curving upward, was now a symbol of bleakness and despair. Rising up, he paced to the window.

"I am a traitor," he cried, staring out at the streets below. It was empty. The only movement were red, black, and white flags that waved gently in the winter breeze.

Something so gentle that represented something so powerful.

Trembling, Max returned to his bed, with a notebook and dull pencil that he had brought with him. It represented the past, representing his old family, and Else. Yet, he could not write. The pencil shook violently between his fingers, making little scratch marks across the paper. The words would not flow out. Instead, they remained inside the pencil.

"I am a traitor."

❀❀❀

"Remember your name, Henrik. You are not a Jew, instead a Christian. An Aryan man with Nordic descent. You run this shoe store with your pride and soul. Just act like you: kind, loving, and fair. We have sent letters to all of our good friends, and have informed the authorities. Good luck, my dear," Frau Brandenburg said, hugging Maximilian tightly.

"I will. Danke," he said, then paused, "Und, does Else know?"

"Ja, she does."

Maximilian nodded. "Well, I suppose I will see you tonight. Tchüss," Maximilian said, bags in hand. Now, if only he remembered where the shoe store was...

This was going to be interesting.

Maximilian looked nothing like the sensitive, kind hearted Jew he was before. Decked in formal work clothes, a brown tuxedo with a white undershirt and nice dark brown pants, a slicked back hairstyle, and some makeup to lighten his complexion, he could not be recognized by anyone.

Except for his family.

His shoe store, Brandenburg Shoes, was quite a long distance from the Brandenburg house, yet despite the exercise he was still shivering. He strolled along casually and confidently, making eye contact with no one and not stopping to chat with anyone that waved, albeit the S.S. officer that suddenly seemed to appear.

Max's heart thumped in his chest.

"Henrik! I've heard of your homecoming! Wherever have you been, my friend?" he asked, walking up to Max outside of the shoe store.

"I'd rather not speak of it, it was a horrible and traumatizing time in my life," Maximilian said, showing no emotion whatsoever. His words seemed to flow out awkwardly, stuck in his throat by some unknown force.

"Ah, yes, your parents did say something about that. Well, I should let you return to your work. I know you missed it dearly." He started to move, then paused. "Oh, and Henrik? Times have changed. Think about taking a little time off of your shoe store and joining the Party."

"Ja, I will greatly consider it. It was nice seeing you again. Guten Tag," he said, unlocking the door to the shoe store. A cloud of dust flew towards him as he walked in. Coughing, Maximilian paced around, inspecting it. Only a few shoes remained; however, they were so filthy and in disrepair they would not do to be sold. He would have to make some more or purchase some from somebody else.

Everything would need to be cleaned up and fixed, so the store sign hung closed for the entire day. When the clock hands finally pointed to the four, Max sighed a sigh of relief.

It was finally time to return home.

"See, it's not so bad. There's still a lot to be done, but all will come together eventually," he whispered to himself, locking up the shop.

But then a thought came to him.

Maximilian was gone. He was gone.

Replaced by a man named Henrik.