Thread: A Light in the Darkness (Madam Mim & Sync)

I'm just saying-- We know what you're saying, Papa. Esther helped her mother set the table and used it as an opportunity to roll her eyes without her father seeing. Abner Heinz was a respected man in the middle-class Jewish community of Munich, but his children knew more than the general public that he was often given to repeating his convictions ad nauseum. I think there are people living on the moon who know you think the radical Zionists are crazy, Miriam , his second-born, chimed in with a smile before turning back to her work, then adding, but this isn't about Zionism. Germany is our home, Abner insisted fiercely. Munich is our home. I won't be chased out like a coward just because of some goose-stepping facists. And do you really have to bring that shtik drek into my home, Miri? Work is work, Papa, she sighed, sick of the color red as she stitched the swastika armband onto the sleeve of the uniform. Five more SS officers came in today, apparently, and need an entire wardrobe done by tomorrow. I think they did it to taunt us, really. And besides, even if Frau Pearlman did turn away work I don't think she would be very wise to turn away this work. She exchanged looks briefly with her older sister. Which is what we're saying. Esther took up the banner again. It's unsafe here anymore, Papa. Didn't you hear about the Archenholtzes? They got on a train to Berlin to visit Herr Archenholtz's sister, never arrived. Abner opened his mouth to reply, but the door burst open to admit Eli and Oren, the two youngest at 10 and 13. After the initial shock Esther returned to her crusade. I hear in Poland they're-- That's enough. Shoshona Heinz's voice wasn't raised, but it was firm and authoritative enough that both of her daughters looked cowed. Supper is almost ready and we've said before not politics at the table. Miriam wanted to argue that this wasn't politics. She wanted to argue that leaving, and leaving now, was more important than peace at the dinner table. Esther, she knew, had been about to mention that after the invasion of Poland shortly before the new year they had started forcing Jews to identify themselves with blue Stars of David pinned to their sleeves. They had talked about it in the shop this morning, before the officers had come in, and had agreed that it was only a matter of time before the Fuhrer instituted the same thing here. Everybody was on edge and there was an atmosphere in the city of fear and dread, and the feeling of an approaching storm. Herr and Frau Archenholtz hadn't been the first friends or neighbors to go missing, and Miriam had the feeling they wouldn't be the last. There was something primal inside her that awoke whenever she passed an SS on the street that chanted over and over get out get out get out get out run run run run runrunrun! Each day that voice got a little louder and she couldn't ignore it anymore but her father, her stubborn father, refused to believe it would happen. A sudden knock at the door seemed to underscore her point. Everyone froze and stared at the door until a few moments later Abner rose despite the whispered protests of his daughters. His hand went to the weapon in the corner. There had been raids over the years, then two years ago it had been made official that they were prohibited from owning firearms or bladed weapons, and while her father's gun from the War had been seized he had hidden the bayonet beneath a loose board. Recently he had lashed it to a mop handle with a length of rope and kept it in the corner behind the door. With one hand on the handle he unbarred the door and turned the knob, looking through the crack to see who could want something with them at this time of night. Officer, I'm afraid you've-- Surprise alighted in his eyes and he opened the door wider, stepping back to let the officer in. Gunther! Miriam was the first to react, jumping to her feet and throwing her arms around him while the others made noises of surprise. After the initial shock the family gathered around to hug him or shake his hand, greeting their old neighbor enthusiastically. Miriam and Gunther had played together as children and had continued their friendship as they'd gotten older. When he had enlisted, however, she had been cold to him until she'd given him the opportunity to explain that he had been forced into it. She had written letters to him under a gentile pseudonym while he was in training then had been sent on to his duty station, but for the past few months no answer had come and she had feared the worst. I didn't know you were on leave...What happened? she asked, taking his coat and ushering him to the seat nearest the fire. Why haven't you written back? It was no use asking whether his father knew he was in town Gunther's parents had seen the writing on the wall and emigrated to Portugal three months ago to wait out the storm. Another point Miriam often brought up.