Close Call

The day was going fine, until the Nazis rolled into the neighborhood. Peter was packing his trunk, as his parents said that he was going to a “safe” place.

His dad was sitting on a chair, with his gun in one hand, and a goblet of wine in the other. He always carried that gun, no matter where he

went. It was a black pistol, with a six bullet barrel. He took a swag of wine, and banged the goblet on the table, indicating Peter’s mom to fill the glass.

Whenever Peter asked him about the gun, he said, “we are Jews, son, we need to take our precautions. Peter didn’t understand much of what his father said, except that he should stay away and aware of the Nazis, but his father said that the place that they were in now, was a safe place. Peters father went through a lot in the past (especially concerning Nazis), which left him crippled.

His mother sat next to his sister, helping her pack her trunk. Mom tried to help the most around the house. The house was situated in the corner of the street. The front door opened up into a rectangular living room, with a pair of sofas strewn to one corner. The living room opened into a long dining room, which had a mahogany table the color of maple leaves. Connected to the room, in the right, was a kitchen, with two stoves, and a bunch of cupboards.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Not a gentle knock, but a knock that could wake a hibernating bear. Peter’s dad almost dropped his goblet of wine in confusion. He eyed Peter to get inside the room. Another knock, now even harsher. He rushed into his room, dragging his sister with him, leaving the door open just a crack.

Just when it seemed like the people were going to break open the door, my mom opened it for them. Peter peaked out of the room. Surprisingly, his father was alert and ready for action, with his gun tucked into his pocket.

A couple of Nazi soldiers stepped into the house. The soldier in front of the group was a buff man. He had a curly brown moustache, with a brown goatee. His head was bald, with a thin rim of hair. He had a pointy nose, and cold eyes, with stormy blue pupils. He wore a light brown uniform, and held a formidable double-barreled gun.

“What took you so long to open the door?” He exclaimed.

“We were inside, sir,” countered Peter’s father.

“Mhm,” the soldier mumbled suspiciously, as he walked around the house. “We were given orders to capture all Jews,” he said disgustedly, “you’re not one, are you?”

“Not at all, sir,” Peter’s mother replied.

The soldier walked towards Peter’s room. Peter got tense. If the soldier started talking to peter’s sister, she would blow their cover. Peter turned to his sister.

“We are Germans,” he explained to his sister, “who are we?”

“Germans,” she whimpered back. Just then, the soldier barged into the room.

“Ah, two younglings,” the soldier said with a cruel smile. “There is a saying, that children always spoke the truth,” a grin appeared on his face. “What’s your name,” he questioned Peter.

“My name is peter,” he said, “and this is my sis—“

“Let her speak for herself,” the soldier interrupted. “What’s your name, girl?”

“My name is Maria,” she said. The soldier took her by the hair. Dad and mom tried to help, but other soldiers held them down. Peter tried to help to, but it was no use.

“So, Maria,” the soldier said harshly, as she flailed around, “are you a Jew or a German.” His harsh eyes bore down on her. Peter and his parents looked at her nervously in anticipation.

“A German!” she screamed. The soldier put her down, looking disappointed. He took a look at her parents one last time, and grinned as if he caught onto something.

“Show me your bracelet,” he demanded Peter’s mom. She hesitantly handed it over. The soldier inspected the bracelet for what seemed like hours. Peter’s heart skipped a beat. That was the bracelet which had the Star of David on it, the symbol of Jews. After a long moment of silence, the soldier threw the bracelet back.

“Fine,” the soldier said, and slowly walked out the door. Peter’s dad closed the door behind the soldier. Maria ran into her mother’s arms, and got a kiss on her forehead.

“Good thing I changed the Star of David on the bracelet to a Nazi symbol,” Peter’s mother explained, “or else….”

Author Info: Hi! I am Suhas Kellampalli.
I am in Grade 7 and I enjoy reading Percy Jackson Series.