Broken Wings

Illegal Hatred

Else Schüffen-   Munich, Germany 1942

Rain droplets splashed onto her cheeks, creating little freckles across her face. Shivering, Else attempted to cover the top of her books, shielding them from the flood of water.

"We had so much homework last night," Myna complained. Today's trek to school seemed infinitely longer. Else's mouth remained closed, tasting the thick saliva on her tongue. "Well, you're fun," Myna said.

"I'm not in the mood today, Myna," Else said.

Myna's expression changed, noticing her friend's distraught eyes. "Why not?"

"Because. Everything is a wreck. I don't know why so many people want to kill Maximilian, und his people," Else whispered, glancing around the street. Passersby merely went about their business, scrounging for food or selling it. A group of Nazis lingered outside the café where Rosalinde had bought the strudels, only a few feet away from where they were strolling.

"Heil Hitler!" they shouted, saluting at the girls. Myna nodded, holding out her arm.

"Heil Hitler!"

They all turned towards Else, waiting for the words to escape her lips, waiting for her arm to climb outward. None came. Else pursed her lips, staring coldly at the soldiers.

"Are you mute, my girl?" The group broke out into snickers.

"She's just shy. Come on Else, it's okay," Myna said, false coaxing her. Else stood frozen in the street, her eyes narrowing slightly. These were the men who had taken Max from her. It was them.

"We just wanted to offer you a cookie! We won't bite, honey." A taller, skinnier one sauntered inside the café, grabbing a fluffy chocolate chip cookie. The girls waited in silence, staring at their reflections in the window.

When the soldier emerged from the glass door, he outstretched his hand. In it, lay the cookie. Else stared at it longingly, memories of eating strudels in the street trickling back to her.

She reached out to grab it.

"Nein, my dear, this is for the other one. You need to 'Heil Hitler' first!"

Myna glanced at her friend, hesitating at the cookie. Her taste buds gave in. "Danke, und Heil Hitler," Myna said, realizing that they would be dreadfully late for school. Seeing Myna's look of concern, Else jogged away from the soldiers, not looking back once.

"We are going to be horribly late," Myna said, slowing down to a fast walk.

"Ja, I know."

The incident wasn't spoken of again. Else decided it best not to speak of it with Mama or Father.

And especially not Josef.

❀❀❀

"Else, do you want to go outside? You haven't done anything all day." Mama frowned, pulling the thread through the worn fabric.

"Nein, Mama. There's nothing to do."

"Well, what about Myna? Or your other friends?"

"They are all Dummkopfs, Mama. They make fun of Maximilian." The truth. It could be contained no longer.

"Else, Maximilian is gone. We just have to face the facts, all right?"

But it wasn't all right. Else couldn't face the facts.

"Josef will be home any minute; do go and wash up. You look filthy," Mama said, setting her mending aside.

"Ja, Mama." As Else scurried up the stairs, big black boots came stomping through the doorway, bringing with them laughter and good natured arguing. It was them. It was their fault that Maximilian was gone. She tried to contain the anger that bubbled up inside her, but it would not die down. Instead, it vented up her throat, threatening to explode. Else crouched down in the hallway, pressing her nose between the bars of the railing. Men bearing the swastika gathered around the table, taking large gulps of alcohol. Everything seemed big and important about them, though Else couldn't describe it. She hated their carefree laugh. Their authoritative demeanor.

"Hitler will have Germany ruling over this world in no time, at the rate we're going. After we get rid of those filthy Juden-" The men cheered, cutting through the sentence.

"Let's hope he gets rid of them soon. They're becoming more and more of a nuisance," one soldier said.

Else couldn't bear to hear anymore. Her feet carried her down the stairs, pounding rapidly across the wood. She stood tall and straight in front of table, the men all staring at her. Their cold, hard eyes pierced through hers. She did not flinch, as much as she would have liked to.

I certainly would have flinched.

Finally, a man with the lightest of blonde hair broke the wall of silence. "Und you are?"

Else answered back with a hostile stare, her shoulders pulled back in triumph. Who did these men think they were?

They thought they were saviors. Ones who would save their country from despair.

"My little sister, Else," Josef answered for her, glaring at her. The men laughed, one even patting Else on the head. She remained motionless.

"You would make Hitler proud, my little one."

That was it, Else could contain it no longer. The anger exploded from her throat before she could stop it. "I don't want to make Hitler proud! I hate him, I hate him!" she yelled, her voice burning through the minds of each and every soldier seated at that table. They scooted back in shock.

"Is this what you've been teaching her?" one said, his eye twitching violently as if attempting to wink.

"Else! If you ever say that again, then we will all be killed! You hear? Don't ever say you hate Hitler. Ever!" Josef rose from his chair, fuming in anger. The words stung more than a hiding ever would, which was sure to befall her later. The tears didn't come this time, however. At least not on the outside. They flooded her whole soul on the inside, however. She shook her head, sprinting up to her canvas in the attic. The paint wouldn't criticize her. The brushes wouldn't hurt her. But the words still remained in her head. Else couldn't help but hear the booming voices below.

"Frau Schüffen, has your son told you the news yet?"

"Nein! Josef, what is it?"

"I've been promoted, Mama! I'm going to Mauthausen."

Josef was going to Mauthausen.