"Is the new school because we are separating from the Jewish people?"
Papa dropped the rolling pin down to the center of the dough and strode around the table to where I was standing. "Listen to me, Charlie," he said. "I know you think we have a choice in what is happening in our country, but we do not. We don’t get to control our leaders or the decisions made from people above our heads. We either follow the rules, or we pay consequences, ja?"
I shrugged because some of what he was saying was confusing. "You are to go to the new school, and we do not have the choice you think we do. It is for your own good, despite the nature of our reality. We must believe that everything happening today is for our best interest, Charlie. You need a promising future, and the new school will offer that to you. Do you understand me?"
I understood clearly at that moment. Mama and Papa didn’t want to scare me into realizing that they had no say over where I went to school. We were to follow protocol, and if we didn’t follow, a consequence could arise—whatever that might have been.
"Yes, Papa."
"Charlie, go on home, sohn. Go help your mama around the house."
There was evident pain in Papa’s eyes when I looked up at him—a type of pain I was sure he did not want to discuss. "Yes, Papa."
"Good boy, Charlie."
I placed the broom back in the corner. "Oh, I need to bring home some bread for Frau Agnes. She gave me some money," I said, handing Papa the five-cent coin.
"Very well, sohn. Take a loaf from the rack over there," he said, pointing to the cooling area. "Here is some paper to wrap it with." Papa handed me a sheet of brown paper, and I tended to the hot bread.
"Go straight home, Charlie. Say hallo to Frau Agnes for me and kiss your mama."
"Yes, Papa."
"Everything will be all right, sohn."
After spending a short life believing every word Mama and Papa spoke, it was in that moment that I first questioned ... What if Papa was wrong?
1Bakery
2My
3It will all be all right in the end.
4Good morning
5Barber
6Sir
7Jeweler
8Hello
Chapter 5
Current Day
Emma is stirring the broth in her bowl with a spoon, taking in my words, likely trying to digest them with the same amount of confusion I felt back then.
"Why were you so concerned about going to a better school?" she asks. It’s the same question I was asking myself over and over.Why was I concerned?
"I don’t know why I was worried before starting the new school, but I later found out there was more than enough reasons to feel the way I was."
"It’s just school, right? What could have been so bad?" Emma continues. Her eyes squint at me as if she might understand better if she can see more clearly. It’s a lot to take in, I know. There are still days when I question what I lived through.
I take a sip of my steaming coffee and focus on the warmth running down the back of my throat as I recall those days. It was so long ago, but at the same time, it feels like it was just yesterday.
"It was not just a school. It was Hitler’s youth program, designed to raise boys into Nazis.Thatis what everyone was feeling so honored to have their children join. Of course, we didn’t know the fine details right away, but even when more information came about, people seemed to enjoy the concept, or at least, agree with Hitler’s plans."
