The doorbell rang just as I had finished pouring Monika’s second tea for the morning. Monika stared at me as if to say that I should answer the door already. I had always thought that her blue, glassy eyes were too unrelenting for such an inexpensive doll.
Mother appeared and with one wipe of her apron, she opened the door.
“Frau Hartmann,” came an orotund voice from the foyer.
“Officer,” said Mother simply. She turned to me. “Anja, please call for your father.”
I put down Monika and the teacup to head for the kitchen.
“Not necessary,” said the officer. “This shan’t be long. I come to ask regarding the Malakoffs’ whereabouts. Do you know their whereabouts? Have you seen them?”
Mother tensed, but her deep set eyes did not give anything away. “No, officer. I speak for the family when I say we have not.”
The officer looked unconvinced, but seemed to decide that he does not have the time to ask further questions. When he spoke again, his words were calm yet laced with threat. “This serves as a reminder to your household that any information of the whereabouts of any Jew must be reported at once. Good deeds shall be rewarded, and violators shall be dealt with. The Gestapo will find them and traitors will be arrested. Good day.”
The officer turned around and left quickly as he came. When I was sure that he was gone, I quickly rushed to Mother’s side.
“Mother,” said I. “Was it them?”
“Yes, Anja,” said Mother. “It was them.”
‘Will they return?”
“They will. I believe they will go through this town like a fine-toothed comb and find every last Jew.”
“We will not tell the Malakoffs on them… will we?” I asked anxiously.
“No, Anja. We will not.”
“Good. Because Joachim is my friend. Yes, we fight sometimes but he is just like any other kid. His family had strange traditions but they are very nice, decent people. They’re just like everyone else, Mother. They’re just like everyone else.”
Mother smiled and took my hand. Together, we went to the kitchen to get some tea for the Malakoff family hiding behind the basement door.
Mother appeared and with one wipe of her apron, she opened the door.
“Frau Hartmann,” came an orotund voice from the foyer.
“Officer,” said Mother simply. She turned to me. “Anja, please call for your father.”
I put down Monika and the teacup to head for the kitchen.
“Not necessary,” said the officer. “This shan’t be long. I come to ask regarding the Malakoffs’ whereabouts. Do you know their whereabouts? Have you seen them?”
Mother tensed, but her deep set eyes did not give anything away. “No, officer. I speak for the family when I say we have not.”
The officer looked unconvinced, but seemed to decide that he does not have the time to ask further questions. When he spoke again, his words were calm yet laced with threat. “This serves as a reminder to your household that any information of the whereabouts of any Jew must be reported at once. Good deeds shall be rewarded, and violators shall be dealt with. The Gestapo will find them and traitors will be arrested. Good day.”
The officer turned around and left quickly as he came. When I was sure that he was gone, I quickly rushed to Mother’s side.
“Mother,” said I. “Was it them?”
“Yes, Anja,” said Mother. “It was them.”
‘Will they return?”
“They will. I believe they will go through this town like a fine-toothed comb and find every last Jew.”
“We will not tell the Malakoffs on them… will we?” I asked anxiously.
“No, Anja. We will not.”
“Good. Because Joachim is my friend. Yes, we fight sometimes but he is just like any other kid. His family had strange traditions but they are very nice, decent people. They’re just like everyone else, Mother. They’re just like everyone else.”
Mother smiled and took my hand. Together, we went to the kitchen to get some tea for the Malakoff family hiding behind the basement door.
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