Post by william on Jun 22, 2013 3:58:06 GMT -5
The Package.
Chapter four.
Classification.
Hamburg, October 1938.
He pushed open the door and entered the room, and forcing a smile he called out, “I er, er, received notification to report here today,” he glanced at his wristwatch. “My n-name is Kaempfer I, er, I’m not late am I?”
“Sit!”
He dropped the grimace, closed the door quickly and glanced around the room: a spartan affair, adorned with Hitler portraits and propaganda posters. A plain wooden chair stood in front of a large wooden desk, he hurried over to it. He stopped and his jaw dropped, he raised his right arm and said, “Heil Hitler”, and on seeing that the other did not intend to reply, he sat down.
The man in the yellow khaki uniform, sitting behind his desk stared at him. His armband displayed the Nazi symbol, a swastika, and he wore the Nazi party badge on his uniform lapel. He said, “Kaempfer, you are aware of the new legislation are you not?”
Kaempfer felt the other’s eyes boring into his; he lowered his gaze and nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir, I am, sir.”
“You are to receive new papers; you will be re-classified as from today.”
“Re-classified, sir, I, er, I don’t understand!”
“You just told me you were aware of the new legislation, you are married to a Jewess, so you will be re-classified as a Jew.” He sneered and said, “That is to say, a half-Jew.”
“B-but I am only - as you said - married to one.”
The sneer turned to an expression of disgust. “You have had sexual intercourse with her, have you not?”
“But, sir, she is my wife.”
“Then divorce her.”
Kaempfer said, “How, on what grounds?”
“You have the legal right to divorce her because she is Jewish. Under the new legislation, that alone is reason enough.” He pushed a form across to him. “Just fill in this form and sign it, then you can keep your original pass and that will be the end of it. But remember, you can no longer live together.”
Kaempfer rose and approached the desk, the official handed him a fountain pen. “Their days are numbered anyway, these Jews, these pariahs,” he added, “And you will thank the Fuhrer for this, one day.”
He took the pen and leaning forward, peered at the form. He noted the reference to German citizens with Jewish, half-Jewish, and other non-Aryan races, and looked at the official. Before he could speak, the other uttered, “You are going to sign it aren’t you?”
Kaempfer nodded. “Yes, yes, I was...” the man’s glare terrified him, so cold, empty, and callous. He looked down at the form once again and quickly filled it in, his hands shaking. He finished by signing it, and then straightened up, handing back the pen.
The other snatched the pen, sneering. “Now that wasn’t difficult, was it?”
Kaempfer stood there in silence.
“You may leave now,” said the other, and Kaempfer turned and walked towards the door in a daze.
The man called out. “Herr Kaempfer, please be so kind as to send your er, ex-wife in,” and added, with a raised arm, “Heil Hitler,” to which Kaempfer responded half-heartedly, then he opened the door and left the room.
He closed the door, and walked towards a slim dark-haired woman in her mid-forties. She sat on one of the wooden chairs in the narrow hallway, next to another woman.
He looked down at her, her face still held traces of her youthful beauty, and their time together flashed through his mind; all the way back to their wedding day, in this very same building, years ago; he said quietly, “You can go in now.”
Ellen Kaempfer rose up. “What has happened, you look awful?”
“I, I , I’m alright, it’s just-.” He looked at her, her brown eyes wide. He felt defeated and said, “He’s waiting.”
Her eyes examined his features, and then she walked towards the office door.
As the door closed, Kaempfer looked down at Ellen’s older sister, Betty. The two women had received a letter similar to his, delivered by a police officer on the same day. She stared back at him. “What took you so long in there, what did they want?”
He tried to speak, his throat ached and he felt the tears coming and he rushed off down the hallway, wiping his face, wishing he were far, far away from this dreadful place.
***
Read more:http://www.wherewritersmeet.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=critique&action=display&thread=1502#ixzz2WvqTXVyO
