Chapter One
Rain pattered on the sidewalk, making me hold my umbrella closer to my head. It was a gentle spring rain, not a heavy shower. If it weren’t for my carefully done hair, I probably would have just let my hair fall down my back and let it get drenched. But I was going to my parents’ house for dinner, and my mother was very strict about how a woman appeared in public.
As soon as I stepped under the small roof overhanging our front porch I closed my black umbrella, my knuckles slowly grazed the red banner hanging down on the front of our door until they reached a green wooden section, and rapped on the door. The red banner was a symbol of our patriotism my father told me, and it was true. Everywhere I looked there was a red flag with the spidery insignia on a blanket of white somewhere on a house. Except of course the ones that were replaced with a six-pointed star and the word “Jew” scrawled across the door or window.
“Aarika!” my mother said in delight as she looked at me. I smiled and wrapped my arms around her. My mother was beautiful, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair rested lightly on her shoulders and began to droop down her back. Her eyes always shone like bright blue eyes whenever I saw her. She was slim and had perfect hips and curves, even though she was older than forty people often thought she was my sister.
The house was warm, like it always was and it was beautifully decorated. My mother was one who made the house look nice, whether we were going to have company or not. Classic paintings of the Alps and of brightly painted meadows lined the walls along with a few family photographs. The stainless beige carpet seemed to wrap its little fiber tips around my feet as I slipped off my heels and walked barefoot across the floor and into the kitchen.
My father sat at the table, reading the day’s newspaper. My father was an officer in the Führer’s army, but usually he was home for dinner. He didn’t fight at all, just trained soldiers who would go and fight against the British. His blond hair was combed over to the left, just like it usually was and he was still dressed in his tan uniform.
“Aarika, why don’t you go and get Gretel for dinner? She just got back from her Hitler Youth meeting, so she might be changing.” My mother gestured towards the door leading from the kitchen and into the main room where the staircase was.
I nodded and walked out and up the stairs. I ran my fingers along the railing, the smooth wood was without a scratch. I knocked on my little sister’s door, and she burst out, her big smile greeting me like rays of sunshine.
“Aarika!” she cried, flinging her arms around me. “You’ll never guess what happened today.”
We let go of each other and I took in the appearance of my fifteen-year-old sister. I had always believed that she had gotten my mother’s thin and beautiful appearance. Her body already had perfect curves like our mother, and her skin was fairer than my father’s and mine. Her blue eyes were also brighter than mine, but maybe that was because she felt so alive.
“Guess what happened today!” she shrieked again, making her braids bounce up and down as jumped with glee.
I laughed, holding her down by her shoulders. “I don’t know, what happened today?”
“Miles Klein wants to have lunch with me tomorrow after I’m finished with school!” she shrieked, once again bouncing. “Miles is nineteen and he is so brave. He is the best boy ever! He treats me like a lady and he is so handsome,” she gushed. “I am the luckiest girl in the world!”
“Is he a soldier?” I asked. “He should be, I mean, he is nineteen, right?”
“Well yes, of course he’s a soldier. He just patrols through the city, he doesn’t actually fight, not yet. He asked me to write to him if he does get sent somewhere. But he assures me that won’t happen because we’ll win the war before he has to leave.”
“I highly-” my mother cut me off in mid-sentence by shouting a dinner call up the stairs. Gretel nearly sprinted down the stairs as I heaved a sigh and followed her. I was almost twenty-three, and yet, my fifteen-year-old sister already had someone who liked her. I hadn’t dated anyone since I was her age, and often my parents joked about me ending up an old maid. But sometimes I wasn’t sure if they were really jokes.
* * * *
The rain had stopped by the time I left my parents’ home and headed back to my own apartment a few blocks away. The smell of a clean earth wafted into my nostrils, me embracing the smell. Cars drove past me, occasionally trying to spray me with dirty puddled water. I couldn’t help but smile. I loved the aftermath of a peaceful rainfall. My heart seemed to belong with the gray blanket of clouds overhead and my lips curved into a smile as I saw children jumping in the puddles one last time before heading inside before it became too dark.
The anthem of Germany rang through the air from someone’s opened window and I couldn’t help but notice the Nazi flag billowing in the wind. The war was raging through the world, Russia, Italy, Poland, it seemed like everyone except America was involved in the war.
I paused in mid-step as I saw the figured huddled on the ground, leaning against a shop with a broken window and a door with the Star of David painted in yellow. I breathed in slowly, trying to sidestep the man, glimpsing his sewn on star on his coat.
“What? Have you never seen a Jew mourning his shop?” he asked, looking up at me as I passed. I stopped and turned, looking at him. His face was smudged with dirt, and his wavy brown hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed for days. “They took everything from me,” he whispered, rocking back and forth as he sat there. “They took my father, they took my shop, we have no money to support us now, they took it all.” I could hear the tears behind his voice, and I felt as if I had swallowed a rock. “They” was “they” men like my father?
“I…” I stopped, looking at the man’s sorrowful face. “Who are ‘they’?”
“The filthy Nazis,” he growled, and then glanced at me. I felt my heart race as his eyes swept over my features. His gaze rested on my perfectly blond hair and my deep ocean blue eyes. He let out a breath of laughter and stood up, brushing off his clothes. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” he said.
He was right. I looked down at my shoes that were framed by the damp sidewalk beneath them. Should I just walk away? That’s what my father would tell me to do…but there was something, something hidden beneath the Jew’s eyes…My family would assure me that it was a poison, filth, but it didn’t seem hurtful to me. It seemed…sad.
“What’s your name?” he asked, taking me from my thoughts.
“I,” I stopped, looking up at his waiting face. My eyes searching his, what was so different about him then…then the Jews that my father told me about?
“You know what? Forget it,” he said and spun on his heel. He began to walk away from me, his head bowed.
I don’t know what came over me in that moment. Maybe it was the tears in his clothes, the dirt around his fingers, but I felt pity for him. “Aarika Dresner!” I called out to him, my voice ringing slightly through the air.
He turned, looking back at me. He gave me a small nod before replying with his name…Jacob Gottlieb. I watched as he turned around again and continued walking until he turned the corner and disappeared from my sight. I didn’t know what I had done, and I didn’t know what exactly was coming, but somehow I knew that I would see Jacob Gottlieb again.
) But anyways, let's get on with it, shall we?
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