Take Away

Papa moved his fingers over his white moustache. His chubby fingers reached up to the arm of his fancy new square glasses, then those fingers put the glasses onto the tip of his nose.
‘Margaret.’ He paused.
‘I have something very special for you to take up for me today.’ He said with his loud deep voice.
‘What is it Papa’ I said very curiously.
‘Now that you are fifteen years of age, you are old enough to take on some responsibility.’
I placed myself onto the bottom step as the long hand of the clock pointed at seven o’clock wondering why Papa had told me so firmly.
My eyes began resting on everything I could see, moving up and down, to my left and to my right. Customers were starting to park their bikes on the street outside my papa’s store hungrily waiting to burst through that bakery door, but it was still half an hour until Papa opened our doors.
The warm fire crackled with sparks and smoke, the smoke was puffed up into our long tall three level high chimney.
Long dresses with skinny women in them swept past our window in all different directions in and out of Stefan’s Jewellers next door.
The clocked donged at seven thirty.
‘Margaret. Please would you go and open the doors’ Papa said with his eyes glued what I thought would be the customers waiting at the door. This was very unusual for Papa to not open the doors and be staring at the customers.
‘Sure’ I said sheepishly.
I went over to the door. Just as I was putting my hand onto the key I noticed something very unusual. An officer in grey trousers and a grey shirt with a red band around the upper arm then on it a white round circle with a black bent cross. Why was this odd officer standing at our front door? Cold silence shot around the bakery. My face began to match the cold white snow outside. Everything around me was the winter.
My eyes were glued to two German Nazi officers. Why was he here? Did he know that we had Jews living up in our attic? My whole body went limp. My limp right hand shakily moved over to the handle and stopped. This was embarrassing. All of these posh customers waiting at our door for the finest bread in Berlin, and there standing, is a German Nazi. This feels like the end of me. With the help of my left limp hand I pushed the limp right hand back and the key turned open.
The Nazi stepped forward and marched for me.
‘You illegally have Jews living here in this house.’ He said pointing the tip of the gun at me.
‘Yes… we do.’ my voice limply shook as it said this.
‘Up the staircase’ I said feeling guilty and very sorry for my friends upstairs.
He marched up the stairs…
All I hear now is screams.

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