Diamond rain

“Mama, you can’t stay here alone. It's not up for discussion. Your a 70 year old woman living on your own. Your 10 miles away from town, with a car that runs one day out of the whole year. Your not 20 years old anymore, its time to move on.” Lidia stares at me intently. Her deep blue eyes drilling into me, long blond hair falling gracefully down her back like a waterfall of golden light. She’s a hyper 25 year old girl, with her whole life ahead of. I remember when I was 25, and I didn’t think I would have a life ahead of me to live. “Lidia, have I told you about when you where born?” I watch as Lidia throws her head back in annoyance before mumbling, “only about 6 thousand times.” But I don’t remember telling her, maybe she is mixing this story up with another, so I begin. “You where such a happy baby so fierce and determined you reminded me of myself. Your hair though was so blond, it looked like I was staring at the sun. And eyes like the afternoon sky. Although you where beautiful, I was confused. All your other siblings had your fathers brown hair and my hazel eyes. But you where special. Everyone could see it. And I’ll admit it, I was a little scared at first. Blond hair and blue eyes are what made up the perfect Nazi. But one day when you where about five, I saw you crying out in the yard under that tree.” I point to the big weeping willow in the yard, Lidia barley even glances at it. “When I went out there, you had found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest. You brought it inside and held it all day till your father came home, and you made him put it back up in the nest for you. That's when I knew, there was no need for me to be afraid. You where and angel threw and threw.” Lidia is hunched over chewing on the corner of her cherry red lips, staring at her phone. I squint my eyes, feeling the wrinkles form around them. “I don’t think I ever told you where you got your name from though. Have I Lidia?” I am staring strait at her waiting for her to look at me. After about a minute she notices the silence, she glances up, “what did you say Mama?” Smiling pleasantly I repeat myself, “have I ever told you how you got your name Lidia?” She shrugs, then averts her attention back to her mobile device after an annoying DING erupts from it. “Well when I was about 18, in Ahrensfelde, I had the very best friend a girl could have. She was so very pretty, just like you, just take away the nose piercing and fake eyebrows and tattoo on your wrist, and you two could be twins. She was Jewish just like me, but much more brave. I was quite and shy while she was outgoing and loud. She never followed the rules. Her name was Lidia, and loved her like a sister. But one day, she walking down the street. Minding her own damn business when two boys, who couldn’t have been older than 15 yelled at her. I was inside our house, living above our small soap store with my parents and my little brother David. But I could hear what they said. One of them yelled ‘Gehen Sie in Ihr schmutziges Schwein hinein, Juden dürfen nach Einbruch der Dunkelheit nicht nach draußen,” I glanced at Lidia, her facial expression was blank, I had tried to teach my kids German but I had given up. “Its means, Go inside your filthy pig, Jews are not allowed outside after dusk, in English. Lidia like I said was brave and rebellious, did I already tell you that?” Lidia nods. “Oh I didn’t remember, well anyway Lidia turned and replied ‘if I am the filthy pig you are the dumb one, for dusk is after the sunsets but just before twilight. And it is still sunset so I am fine.’ Lidia was a rule breaker and so brave, did I tell you that already?” Lidia rolls her eyes, “Yes Mama you have told me.” 

“Oh okay, I can’t remember telling you though. So those two boys, they threw a rock at her. Told her they would kill her family if she talked like that. Lidia should have ran the other way, I would have, but she let her mouth get the better of her. She told them they where weak little men who followed Hitler like little puppies but never made there own choices. So the boys clubbed her, there pride was on the line. They hit her over and over like my mama did when she cleaned the rugs. And I remember screaming threw the window, my mama came to me and cradled me as we watched. She was so preoccupied with me, that David slipped away unnoticed. We saw him rushing down the street bellow hollering. He ran right up and kicked one of  the Nazis in his privet area, the other stopped hitting Lidia and turned to David. They beat him to a pulp before me and my mother could even scream. Then those two boys walked away, smiling like the demons they where. The whole town came out of there houses after they where gone, Jews and non Jews helped carry Lidia and David to the small house where a retired doctor lived. David was barely breathing and Lidia wasn’t breathing at all. We lost both Lidia and David that night, Lidia's scull was cracked in multiple places, and David's rib had punctured his lungs. Lidia died a minute before David. I had thought of it as her going first to walk David to heaven who followed 60 seconds after. We had named you Lidia cause I wasn’t brave enough to protect my friend, and I hoped I would get a second chance. With you.” Lidia's phone is off, her face shocked. “You-you didn’t tell me about this, I didn’t know we had an uncle.” I nod, “He was 7.” I can feel my eyes holding back the tears that want to fall so badly. “Lidia you want tea. I am gonna grab tea.” I dart into the kitchen faster then I have moved in 30 years. The second the door falls shut behind me, the damn breaks and streams of warm liquid seep down my wrinkled cheeks. I hadn’t thought about David or Lidia in years. After about 10 minutes I finally pull myself together and rush to gather the tea cups. As I am pulling one of them off the shelf, it slips. I can only watch as the small fragile cup rushes to the earth, a blur of red. When it shatters, and the noise, and the glass, and the color takes me back to a place I don’t want to go. 

I am 18 again, months after David's death. And now I don’t share a room. Don’t tell a story at night to make anyone fall asleep. Don’t grumble over having to watch someone while my parents are working bellow. Don’t take anyone to the park with my best friend, because there is no brother to take, no best friend to go with, and they burned the park because Jewish children don’t deserve to play. And the damn Nazis have just decided that we didn’t deserve a home either. My parents waited it out, thinking they would forget about us if we didn't move. Our small Jewish cul de sac is vacant besides a few families like us. We sit on our faded floral sofa, my parents holding hands and me biting my nails. When the knock comes its firm, not like a town persons light cheerful knock coming to invite us to a birthday party or dinner. I run to open the door followed quietly by my parents. I turn the silver handle and there stands two boys, both with acne still on there faces and clearly still going threw puberty. “May I help you?” My voice isn’t rude or sound mad, but cheerful. I had thought if I was sweet and pretty they would let us stay, maybe be too scared to kick a good looking girl around there age, out of her home. Without even looking in my eyes they reply, “You need to leave now. Don’t take anything and leave your house key. If you don’t leave now our only option will be to send you to a concentration camp.” 

“But where shall we go?” My mother whispers somewhere behind me. The boy rolls his eyes, “I don’t know ma’am that's not my job. Just make sure you leave your house key.” 

“May we at least grab our coats, its ever so cold outside,” I say in a whiny voice like the girls do on tv, even throwing in my best puppy eyes. The boys reaction is priceless. There mouths gape open like a puffer fishes, and there eyes are the size of marbles. One shakes his head while the other nods vigorously, the one shaking his head glances at the one nodding and nods as well. “Oh you are so kind,” I want to gag when they smile like that, and one even is brave enough to wink at me. I quickly turn with my parents and grab our thin coats from the hook on the wall. My mothers face is paper white, but my dad is smiling at me knowing how I planed that stunt. I reach for my patched jacket I see a small rusty key on the table. The house key. I was told to leave it and I should, but Lidia wouldn’t leave it, she was brave. So in one swift movement I reach down and clasp it in my fist. As I pull my jacket on, I slip it into the only place I know it’ll go unchecked, my bra. I hide my smile as I slip out the door with my parents. The officers don’t look at me as we leave, but I know I can’t use them for much more, its not there choice to kick us out. Me and my parents walked the 10 miles to my aunts house, whole told us we could only stay for two days before we where homeless again. So as my parents sleep after our long night on two thin pads, I sneak out. The sun isn’t even up yet as I walk threw the town. I know just the roads to take to get to our small home without even looking up. When I get to our town I freeze. The streets are shinning. Rain? Jewelry? No, its glass. My eyes look around taking in the mess of broken windows and lights. So much glass that it looks like diamond rain fell in the night. Its not just glass but peoples things too. I can see shoes, family photos, blankets, toys, food, clothes, even a couch was dragged out and lit on fire. The street creeks as I make my way over the glass shards. When I get to our store I gasp. The front is completely ruined, spray paint and broken rafters. And the inside is just as bad with upturned shelves and broken walls. Slowly I creep in, afraid the ceiling will crush me if I breath to loudly. In the back is the stairs that lead to our living courters. I walk up them carefully avoiding the creaky ones just incase Nazis are still lurking around. I slip the key into the lock, and hear the soft click. When the door flyers open it takes me a minute to understand what I am seeing. There is food smudged across the floor and walls. Cupboards are broken, our beds upturned, Tv smashed to smithereens. And our family portrait is ruined. I hate looking at how these animals have turned our house into a pig sty. Quietly I walk to the back of the house and reach into our only closet. I fish threw old toys and clothes till I find our one leather suitcase. Rushing back into my parents bedroom where there mattress has been ripped open and my mothers clothes displayed on the floor. I grab the necessities underwear, and change of clothes for all of us, our money hidden under the floor boards in the bathroom, my grandmothers pearl necklace inside my matrices, the picture of me, Lidia and David at the park, and soap. As I am about to leave I see my brothers favorite stuffed animal, an old blue bunny named turtle. I know my brother is dead, but he would want that bunny, so I grab it. I walk down the stairs and out into the cold after tucking the key back into my bra. A hand grasps my shoulder and I jump. I know I am dead, they will shoot me in the head and walk away. I begin crying, I can’t help it when I think of my parents learning that there last child is dead. “Ruth, I am not going to hurt you.” The voice is familiar so I turn around. Ms. Achen is standing in a dark corner, I need to learn to look better. She is one of my parents best customers, she's not Jewish so she wouldn’t have been vacated and lives just down the road. I can see her house from here, and the windows are still intact, her house looks out of place in the destroyed surroundings. “Ms. Achen, what- what do you need,” I try to sound brave, but it isn’t working as I want it to. “Ruth honey you need to leave now, there looking for you. Saying you stole government property. Are your parents all right?” I nod, barley listening. Had they noticed the missing key, or was it something else. “Good, dear don’t come back here you hear, I wont tell on you but I need you to stay safe. Things are gonna change rapidly, I can feel it, and not for the better.” Ms. Achen disappears into the shadows again where I can only see her if I knew she was there. I make my way down the street going faster then when I came. Till I hear a noise from one of the stores. Quickly I look, and there is a man. I can’t make our his face very well in the dark, but he seems hurt. He is moaning and thrashing around. I step over the window ledge to him. There is blood coating the glass making it looked like the stained glass work from the cathedral. “Help plea-,” the man sputters blood out of his mouth, before he goes limp and I know he is dead. I fall onto my hands and knees, the crimson coating my palms and glass digging into my knees. “No, no, no.” I say as I check his pulse. Out of the corner of my eye I see a small figure. I gasp when I see that its a child, clearly dead hanging from the low rafters by his feet. There is a bullet in his head and a bruise on his face, and ever so slowly a drop of blood slides out of his mouth and drops to the glass floor bellow. I walk away from that store, never wanting to see anything like it again. 

“Mama, Mama, hey are you okay.” Lidia is standing in the doorway. When she sees the glass she quickly reaches for the broom in the corner. “Oh mama don’t move okay? Let me clean this up so you don’t cut yourself. Are you sure your okay?” The aluminum flooring is covered in red shards. Just like the bloody glass I saw 52 years ago, on that night that they now call the night of broken glass.