War and the memories

Wednesday, 1937

The Grande siblings, one was Walter, blond hair, olive eyes, scrawny, pale skin, especially famous for his likely drunken gait, the other one was Silvia, with the same hair and eyes color, but the better gait, sitting on the porch of the family bookstore and playing charades, while their mother ordered them to go to get something for her.

Then, Syn and Walt (their nickname) ran to a store where they understood was the fullest place in Cologne (We all know that is not true) and stayed there for a long time, just to enjoy the feeling of being trusted and commended with a great task. Buy the eggs.

Next, they traveled to the market for a few minutes and rushed home with their eggs. Along the road, they saw a minor coin dropped on the ground. Syn said:

- Getting a coin on the ground is lucky.

Walt laughed:

-Don't be so superstitious.

-Mom told me.

-Then take it. You found it.

After that, he handed over the coin to his little sister and sprinted home. At the end of the trail, Peter Fynn came and asked him to go fishing. To choose between leaving home and going fishing, they tossed a coin. Heads. Go home.

And that was the perfect decision. Because their mom planned to starve the two of them on the charge of getting home late, but their dad even showed up back later. So she acquitted the two. Turning to the bedroom, Walt mumbled:

-Wow.

Silvia grinned.

1939

The streets became quieter.

No more Jewish families.

There are a few books at the Grande Store.

And the Grande family had 3 members left.

1940

Silvia got home after a day at school. It was dark and drizzly. She went into her chamber. Walter was squatting there, in the room's midst, his hands around his face as if he was weeping.

A large envelope is on the table.

A suggestion, an offer.

He will go to Berlin.

A week later, he arrived at Cologne station, kissed his mother and sister goodbye, and walked away.

At the end of 1938, after a few days, the Kristallnacht.

Peter was in the storage of an old wooden house owned by his teacher, Mr. Werner. He gripped his relative in his arms, her curls covering his shoulders. Her salty tears flowed down his shirt.

She was the sole family member he had.

He wished he could die. But what about his sister? What would she do? How will she be? She was 4 years old. Werner will take care of her.

But what about the body? How would they move with a dead body?

He risked himself going into trouble for you, so cause no more.

1939

Peter was lying on the basement's floor, watching Jennia fall asleep, avoiding the prospect of light, wind, and freedom. If only he could be free. If only he could go out. By then, he would take Jennia away, feed her delicious food, pamper her, let her cry, not try to shut her up for fear of attracting attention.

He sat there, wandering, and heard a sound of footprints coming. Right above. He lay down, not moving, not speaking. The footsteps approaching, then closer. A stream of light passed through the door. A tall woman appeared, and he whispered:

- Mrs. Sophie Grande?

The woman smiled and walked over to him. Take some cake out of his pocket and gave them to Peter.

- Don’t worry. - She said.

1940

After Walt left, Syn went to a small lake near Mr. Werner's house, to throw rocks at the surface of it as she was throwing stones at Hitler. After a few days, it almost became a routine, relief from sadness.

Peter sat in the basement, trying to resist the urge to go out. Every day he has to fight with the feeling of himself turning into a secret, and there will be a day of death in that mystery. He tried to look at his little sister Jennia, who was falling asleep. During this year, she spent most of her time dreaming. Her body became thinner and thinner. If this keeps up, Death will take her from her sleep. Then what? Report to Mr. Werner. Mourning for Mrs. Sophie. But then? What would they do with the corpse?

Jennia.

Jennia.

It got windy, then rain fell, draining all of Silvia's head. She sat down and thought about her family.

He could hear the raindrops falling and the wind blowing in his ears. It's raining, no one is there. It's flooding, no one is there. Go out. Just for three minutes. Only three minutes.

Silvia was still lying there like she was losing her soul. She did not move. The strings of pain had tied her up. She couldn't go anywhere. She won't be able to resist anymore. She sat there and cried in the rain.

About half an hour, he could smell the breathing of rain and wind. Go or not.

The answer is to go.

Silvia collapsed and passed out in the rain. A footstep approached her, looked at it, then lifted it up. Something tall, but skinny. Something with ivory skin and thin feet. Something with dark curly hair. Something…

Syn woke up, and she was lying on her familiar bed. Was that just a dream? No, it's not. Something wet her hair, her body was damp. No, not a dream. It's real. She sat up and walked to the door and heard Mr. Werner’s voice:

-We shouldn't tell her, she was just a kid.

-Yes. - This voice sounds like her mother. - We shouldn't get her into this.

-I'll tell Mr. Fynn ... - Then they walked away.

What? What they have hidden from her? Who is Mr. Fynn? Peter? The kid often goes fishing with his brother? He's dead. On the Kristallnacht. It couldn’t be him.

Then again, footsteps, they were coming. Silvia jumped onto the bed and pretended to sleep.

January 1941

She could no longer resist the urge to curiosity. One sunny day, she raced home from school. But not her house. Werner's house. Her mother wouldn't say a word to her. The explanation for her sleeping at home was:

- Werner found you.

She knew that wasn't true.

Mr. Werner has not returned yet. He was busy with young students at school, and Silvia already knew that. She ran to the teacher's house, stood in front of the door, and looked around. See if anyone has found out about her intrusive behavior. And when she was assured that she was alone. The little girl ran to the front window and touched it. Locked. Back door. It was the same. All the doors seem to be locked. There's no way she could go inside.

Disappointed. Worry. She sat down on the steps and thought. There must be a way to go inside.

The sun is falling. The sunset light radiated from the clouds as if being kept. Silvia stood up and was about to leave, but felt sorry. Why should that be? She thought. Then she took the coin out. Heads, leave. Tails, stay.

Tails. She sat down and dropped the coin. It rolled away. She ran after. It rolled down the back of an enormous tree and stopped. Syn leaned down. Suddenly the sound of footsteps. She and heard thee and looked out.

Her mother Sophie was coming. In her hand were a few small eggs and bags of pure white sugar. She widened her eyes. After a few seconds, Mr. Werner walked closer. He opened the door, and they went inside.

No thought, no hesitation. Silvia followed.

The wooden room was dark. Not even a single light. Just a small cupboard and two chairs close together. They opened the cupboard. In it were some clothes and a big box. They pulled out the box. A void there. And get under.

Jennia and he were focusing on the footsteps approaching. The two of them went down. Turn on the light and call softly:

-Fynn.

Jennia jumped out, ran into the woman's lap, and kissed the man's cheek. Peter approached, a smile appeared, then suddenly disappeared. A fourth shadow was behind them.

Silvia's shadow.

10/11/1939

They took his hand and told him to take good care of Jennia. He promised. He carried his sister and ran to the back door when the Germans barged in the door. Shouting. Mr. Grande stood there, pulled his shoulder, and led him. They ran on down the street. Sneaking through dark places, they ran into forests and hid there. The next morning, Mr. Grande took him to see Mr. Werner and quietly kissed Jennia. Pat the baby to sleep. Late at night, he left.

1941

-It must be very boring here. - Syn asked.

-Ja. - Peter replied.

-So you brought me back the other day, right?

-Ja.

-Thank you.

There was a pause after that. Peter said:

-How is Walter?

-I don’t really know.

- Any news about him?

-He sent 2 letters a few weeks ago.

- What's it about?

-I do not understand. They lacked most of the letters out.

-I'm very sorry.

April 1941

Silvia ran down to the basement and handed Jennia a small book with many pictures and ran to Peter. That day, Peter was practicing drawing. He painted very well. Very detailed and neatline. Syn ran over and he showed it to her.

He was drawing Jennia.

-Beautiful. - she praised.

-Thanks.

And then a quick conversation between two friends.

1942

Mr. Werner and Mrs. Grande could barely take care of the Fynn brothers. They had to move. To a place called Frankfurt. There, a distant relative of the two found temporary shelter for them. If not, they will buy a train ticket for both of them to Koln. According to the plan.

Before she left, Mrs. Grande gave a young friend some money.

Mr. Werner wishes the children a blessing.

And Silvia gave them her lucky coin with some words.

See you again.

Peter kissed him gently on the cheek and handed him a drawing.

A blonde girl.

He took Jennia's hand and left, hoping to return alive.

And he did.

Only Silvia.

She died on May 31, 1942, in a pile of rubble and under a long trail in the sky. In her hand was a picture. And the promise of friendship in the Jewish guy's memories.