Terrified At Nine

Be invisible. Be invisible. Be invisible. It was Jacob’s mantra. He could taste metal in his bile; he was terrified. Don’t make eye contact, he told himself. Do not look at the man. The Nazi soldier came over to check to see whether he wore the star. Jacob kept his eyes down, not wanting to show any disrespect. He saw the black boots first. Those marching loud angry boots. They represented Hitler, hatred, agony and anguish. Jacob was nine, but he already knew this. His lips began shaking. Where is your star? The soldier asked. Jacob pointed it out. The soldier began to belittle him, called him names, spit on him. Cursed him. Jacob was only nine, and he was horrified. The soldier laughed. He did not tell him to look up. Thank God. Jacob was trembling now, shaking hard. Another soldier laughed. The soldier bent down into his face. He could feel his breath on him. He muttered some mean words. Jacob closed his eyes, expecting a blow. It never came. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew it was grandpa’s hand. But your grandfather has been dead for two years, his mother argued when he told her. I know what I felt, he answered. Grandpa was there. Grandpa met Jacob in the showers a year later.