The Day the Word Turned Grey

The Day the Word Turned Grey

Rachel felt the rumbling of the roads beneath the thin souls of her well-worn oxfords. The ominous vibration sent chills up and down her spine. “They’re coming,” she said to no one in particular. 

Yet they all heard her, each responding in their own way.  

Noah stopped flirting with Esther and closed the curtains.

Esther lit the candles and dimmed the lights.  

Papa checked under the floorboards where he stashed the guns he ‘didn’t have.’

And Mama started praying. “Shema Yisrael…”

Everyone joined in. 

When the prayer ended, no one said a word.  

Rachel went to the window.  

Outside, in the garden, the golden faces of the sunflowers smiled up at the sun. Pale pink plum blossoms poked their tiny heads from little green buds. And the white and red flag rippled in the afternoon breeze.

The rumbling turned into the clipped cadence of thousands of boots marching as one machine known for its precision and fierce loyalty.  

It grew louder as the soldiers, some barely old enough to shave, came into view. Their shoulders sagged with the weight of wielding weapons. Their mouths were set in lines of grim determination, while their eyes jumped and danced every which way.  

Rached turned around. “They’re here.”

“They’re not taking me alive,” Papa said. 

“Nor me,” Noah added, grabbing Esther’s hands with both of his. “With God as my witness.”  

“If we fight, we die.” Mama encircled them with her arms and hugged them to her. “Better to let them take us so that, God willing, we might survive this horror.”  

“Mama,” Rachel said, “the rumors are bad. No one survives.”  

“Well,” Mama said, “If I let them take me, there’s a chance. If I fight today, I die tonight.”  

Papa davened before the candles. “I’d rather die fighting for freedom than live the life of a slave.” 

“Amen,” said Noah.

The whole house shook as a tank rolled into the plaza.  

After a few moments of static, a bullhorn screamed at the entire village. “Achtung. Gather up your valuables and line up outside.”

Mama stuffed cash and pearls into hidden recesses of her dress. Papa filled his pockets with bullets and handed guns to Noah and Esther. He offered the last one to Mama.  

She shook her head, put her shaking hands on Papa’s cheeks, and kissed him. “Whatever happens, I love you with all my heart.”

Papa sighed. “I love you, too. More than you know.”

“I do know,” she said. “If there’s no next year to meet in Jerusalem, may we meet again in—”

A hard banging threatened to break down the door. “Open now!”

The blood drained from Mama’s face, She sat down fast. “--heaven.”  

Papa and Noah took careful aim at the door and shot the first two soldiers crashing in. One died immediately.  The other one had enough energy to shoot Noah before succumbing to his bullet. 

A sniper in the doorway gunned Papa down before he had time to take aim. 

Esther managed to duck behind the sofa before Mama’s screams brought more soldiers. When they grabbed Mama, Esther ran out and tried to beat off the soldiers with her bare hands.  

One of the soldiers grabbed her wrists. “Oh, here’s a hot one.” He carried her off to the bedroom while the others dragged Mama outside.  

“Get that soldier off my Esther!” she screamed at the men.  

“Fritz won’t hurt her,” the one with the bluest eyes said. ”He’s just gonna have a little fun.”  

His idea of fun was not Esther’s. She fought with everything she had, including her teeth. He had to knock her unconscious with a lamp before he could stay on top of her.  

When she stopped moving, the lust in his loins limped away. But rather than admit obvious defeat, he grunted and groaned, pretending to have his way with her. Even yanked at his fly as he rejoined his comrades in the round-up. 

The soldiers marched Mama and Esther to the edge of town, along with others who survived the initial onslaught.  No one spoke a word, barely nodding at one another, lest they attract unwanted attention to themselves. No one broke ranks or tried to run for it.  

Eyes downcast, they trudged past the plaza with its shops and signs, humble gardens where bright blooms blossomed in the sun’s warmth. But as they passed, the colors drained out of them. The flag in the center of town even turned black, hanging limp as they passed.  

None of them noticed.  

Their attention was on what lay ahead. Not just on the trucks and then the cattle cars taking them who knew where. But the where itself. As they struggled to breathe and give each other space where there was no space, fear sucked all the available oxygen.  

No one said a word, but if they had, it would have all been the same thing. Where are they taking us? What’s going to happen when we get there? And where is there?  Mama now wondered if Papa was right. Would it have been better to die free than what awaited?  

So they didn’t notice the color drain from the landscape around them. It had already drained from their hearts.

But Rachel did. When the soldiers finally left the village, she crawled out from under the floorboards where Papa had shoved her when he grabbed the guns. Why her? She wondered, looking around at the grayness of it all. But she knew the answer. She was the only one small enough to fit.

She tried to wake Esther but her sister didn’t budge. Now what?  

No point in staying here and getting caught. She traded her dress for a pair of Noah’s pants, shirt, and jacket. She found a hat of his that not only covered her hair but shaded her face. And with extra socks, she could actually walk in his boots.  

Packing supplies into a rucksack, Rachel stole off into the woods. The only place that still had any color left, even though that was fading fast along with the setting sun.  

With the little light left, she found a sheltering grove of ancient oaks to shelter her for the night. She leaned back against the oldest, thickest one, willing it to lend her its woodsy wisdom and its strength. “Shema, Yisrael…” she prayed. “God, show me the way.”  

A rough, calloused hand tapped her gently awake the next morning. “Come with us,” the wisened man said. “We’ve got some bread.”  

And so she ate, hiding by day, talking late into the night with the others who’d fled to the woods and been gathered. A plan was hatched. If they could follow the northern star by night and get to the sea, boats would ferry them to Sweden and freedom.  

“Shema Yisrael…thank you, God.” 

The closer they got to the Baltic, the more colors showed themselves to Rachel. The gray sameness of the landscape faded into swatches of pastel. Pale green grass waved in the wind. Faint pinks and baby blues dotted the gardens they passed. And even a few sunflowers kissed the sky with their faces.  

She took courage from the colors, light as they were, they were indeed a light. Not that they made up for her loss. Nothing could do that. But they hinted at the brighter future she had to believe awaited her.

Then, one day, she saw it.

The brilliant blue of the Baltic. Pep returned to her step as she encouraged the rag-tag troupe of fellow travelers making the journey with her. The closer they got, the brighter the blue. And the more of it.

When they finally reached the shore and shelled out their last shekels for the passage, they bent down and kissed the ground, thanking God for sparing them and praising God for the return of the colors.  

Rachel among them. As she started up the gangplank to the ship for Sweden, something buzzed past her ear. She turned in time to see a fiery-breasted hummingbird hovering beside her, seemingly suspended in the air. Its brilliant blues, greens, golds, and violet spoke to her heart.  

“Never again,” they sang. 

“Never again shall soldiers drain the color and life from the world like this.”  

And in a flash, the bird was gone. But a lone golden feather floated in the air, almost too small to see. But the light caught and held it just long enough for her to reach out her hand and let it land there.  

When she got to Sweden, Rachel pressed that feather between the pages of a journal she was given so she could write her story and remember. Remember the ones who gave their lives to freedom the day the world turned grey.