Dancing Winds

    Another agonizing half hour passed.  The front door opened, and in walked Gavrel Rosen.  The children heard their father’s voice. It was an angry, surprised voice:  “Why are you here?”

   Gavrel didn’t hear an answer; he felt a blow to his face that silenced him and left his mouth dripping blood onto the floor of the entrance to his home.  The stock of an MP 40 machine gun striking his face made it clear to Gavrel that his question was not welcome; getting an answer was moot; nor would any other questions be allowed.

   The leader smirked, “If there are to be any questions, I will ask them, and you, filthy Jew, will answer.  Otherwise, you will be silent.  Do you understand, Jew?”

   Gavrel nodded.

   “Speak up, Jew.”

   “I understand.”  The words were slurred, as Gavrel’s mouth was already swollen.  He couldn’t speak clearly, even if he wanted to, which he was now certain he did not.

   The leader then called for the other Rosen family members to come downstairs to the parlor, which they did, accompanied by the third officer.  Rena moved toward Gavrel to provide what little comfort she could.  The second officer stepped forward, blocked her path and slapped her loudly on her left cheek, already wet and puffy from crying.  He slapped Rena with sufficient force to knock her from her feet to the floor. 

   “Mama!” cried Shifra.  “Mama!”

   “Shut up, little Jew.”  Shifra complied.

    Sender stepped toward his mother; the officer stood in his way, shoving him back to where Shifra stood.

   Rena lay sprawled on the floor for a few moments, stunned to near unconsciousness, her cheek burning with hot pain, her ear ringing.

   The leader ordered, “Get up, bitch, and stand with your children.  Leave your husband alone.”

   Sender and Shifra stood holding each other, trembling. Their father and mother had felt the force of the Third Reich, and they feared what was to come.

   "We are here on behalf of our Fuehrer and the fatherland.  You have been identified as persons requiring the protection of the Reich, and we are here to provide that protection to you."  The leader was now in complete control of the situation, and he was certain the forthcoming business would be conducted without further interruption or difficulty.

   Gavrel was listening intently.  He intended to co-operate fully; surely this would be the best way to protect himself and his family.  He hoped after some further discussion the officers would be satisfied they had terrified his family enough, and complete their visit, whatever its purpose.

    "With much respect, Sir, we do not require protection.  We only ask ..."

    Gavrel stopped speaking the moment he saw the leader's hand move to withdraw a pistol from its holster.

    It was too late.  The leader stepped forward one step, pointed his pistol at Gavrel's forehead and fired, as if all three actions were one.

    The sound had never been heard before by any of the Rosens.  The loud bang ended Gavrel's life in an instant.  His body slumped silently to the floor.

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