Holocaust - Khurram Bukhari

Holocaust 106An old man, to the annoyance of the rest of the crowd, was readingthe regulations.“No more clothing vouchers will be issued to Jews,” he read. “All Jewsfailing to register with the Jewish Council of Elders will do so at once,or face serious punishment. It is forbidden to sell luggage, knapsacks,valises or leather to Jews.”The old man turned around. “Hah! Luggage! Where am I going? ToAmerica, maybe?”Someone else resumed reading. “No Jew may carry a valise, trunk orknapsack without prior permission from the police, and a specialpermit.” And so on. The usual preliminaries. Before arrests, detention,and God knows what else.The policemen turned. I was a bit slow retreating into the doorway.One of them noticed my knapsack. I started to walk away, actingunconcerned, and they came after me.“Hey,” one of them said. “You saw the orders. What are you doing withthat knapsack?”I mumbled something about not knowing of the order. To show themmy faked ID papers would be a risk. What was a German farm laborerdoing in Prague?I tried to look stupid, gestured with my hands. They backed me against asmall store. It was a leather and luggage shop, a rather dingy, run-downplace, and one of them took out a pad, while the other squinted at me.“Give us the knapsack,” one said.I hesitated. Perhaps I had made a mistake coming to a strange city.Thus far I had survived by hiding in the countryside, blending withtrees and forests, meadows, barns.A young girl was standing behind the glass door of the shop. Shelooked at me, saw my distress and came out.“No, he won’t give you the knapsack,” she said. “He’ll give it to me.”“You, Miss Slomova?” the cop asked.“I sold it to him, and he never paid for it. Come on, give it to me. Youtake it from him, or arrest him, and I’ll never get my money.”She was very pretty. A small girl, fine features, dark-brown hair. Andthe darkest brown eyes I had ever seen. She lied very well, too, whichI had found was a useful trait.