Jonah Rosenthal finally found his definition of freedom on a September night in 1941, only days after he'd written the paper that had worried his mother so much at home. The night was crisp, and a hint of smoke tainted the air, not in a menacing way but with the undertone of a nation in war. He'd gone out to the park to take a stroll, something he was still allowed to do, although he'd gotten several strange looks. He was well aware of the curfew that was just one turn of his clock hands away, so he picked up his pace.
Going out wasn't like it used to be. Esther and David went out less often than they used to because of the Davidstern (star of David). They didn't want to wear it, especially not on every single trip to the market, the park, or anywhere else. So they'd resorted to not going out very often at all. Jonah couldn't deal with staying home all day, even though they had a spacious house with a splendid garden. He wasn't embarrassed to be Jewish, and he wasn't afraid. Well, not usually. But as he neared his street and the curfew, an uncomfortable feeling started to nag at his gut. If he wasn't going to be home in half an hour, he'd be violating the rules.
About five minutes away from his home, he rounded a bend and ran head-first into the headlights of an SS patrol car. The car rolled to a stop beside him. He legally had nothing to fear: he was wearing his coat and was not out after Ausgangssperre (curfew). But he feared everything, including for his life.
"Excuse me, young man, what are you doing out so late?" The man leaned out of the car and stared at Jonah.
"I'm on my way home, sir."
"That's SS Untersturmführer to you." The driver corrected. "Where do you live?"
"Right down the street," Jonah said. He didn't want to give his address, but the officer gazed at him sternly, so he gave in. "I live in that big yellow house," he pointed at it, "I'll be home before curfew."
"What are your parents doing right now? Why didn't they come out to walk with you?" The understanding and almost empathetic tone the SS-Untersturmführer had on wildly confused and scared Jonah. "Do you know what they are doing at home?"
Jonah knew very well what they were doing. They were probably still getting the car ready to give it to the garage, in other words, to get their car away and out of their house. To somewhere safe so that after the war, and after the antisemitic God lost his rule over Germany, they could maybe have it back unscathed.
"I don't know," Jonah answered. "If you don't mind, I'll be on my way home now."
The SS-Untersturmführer gazed at him for a few seconds. And in that short fraction of time, Jonah felt helpless and imprisoned. But then the SS officer just gave him a curt nod and waved him on his way.
Jonah hurried home. The car hadn't driven away and instead remained parked on the side of the road. He could almost feel the men's eyes following him all the way to his doorstep. He never glanced back. He couldn't show signs of distress because that might seem suspicious. But as he fumbled for his keys in his pocket, they fell onto the doormat. The clatter made him jump. He snatched them up, unlocked the door and slipped inside, his heart racing.
He ran up the stairs and into his room, closing the door behind him as he entered. Then he stole away to the window, and he gently pulled back the curtain to peer outside. He saw the car with it's bright and shining headlights drive down the street slowly. It didn't stop in front of his house. He let out a sigh of relief and let the curtain fall back.
It had taken a bit longer for the new laws on Jews to reach his small town. The family Rosenthal was lucky. But there was still so much him and his brother couldn't do. And so much his parents couldn't do. He wasn't even allowed to go to school. And none of his friends out of his former classes talked to him anymore.
Jonah lay down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. And that's when it occured to him. No matter if he cooperated with the Nazi regime or if he didn't, his fate would be the same. He was a Jew, a member of an unwanted part of German society. Someone that many now regarded as poison for the German nation. He was going to end up in the same place no matter what choices he made.
Freedom is the oppertunity to choose between at least two or more options that lead to two or more outcomes. If all the options lead to the same outcome, the same fate, there can't be any freedom in that. So, being Jewish meant not being free. Not now.
I wish I owned the typewriter.