“I told you, I’ll be fine. Not like you’d care anyway.” “Well, maybe I would! Do you know what they’ll do to you if they catch you?” “Do you know what they do everyday to thousands of innocent kids?” I snapped, taking a step towards him. “Do you know what it feels knowing you could be next, and you can’t do anything to stop it? Like no one can stop it, like the villain from your nightmare escaped and he’s hunting you? “Have you seen their dead eyes in their live bodies? Have you heard - ” I jerked my head up to stare hard at the ceiling. “Have you heard the unearthly silence? As people become things behind barbed wire? It’s only wrong to steal from humans. What Nazis do?” My voice was low, shaking with anger. “It’s not human.” I was almost scared to look at him, but that couldn’t be right, because I didn’t get scared. I wasn’t scared of him. I was scared that he wouldn’t understand. That he couldn’t. That he was just like them. So I turned and stared at the shadows sliding under the door instead, shadows of people whose breath was tainted with the finest wine in all of Germany and whose hearts were tainted with the dirtiest grime. We stood there for a long while, just listening to each other breathe. “...I’m in.” “What?” I watched his shadow straighten its sleeve cuffs. “I said I’m in. You win. Teach me how to pickpocket and I’ll do it. They won’t suspect me.” “What?” I looked at him, searching his face, trying to figure out what lie he was telling me. He tried to chuckle, but it quivered. “Maybe thieves are stupid.” He cleared his throat. “I said, I bet I can pickpocket better than you, so teach me. Unless you’re scared.” We watched each other for a moment, our eyes saying everything for us. Then I smiled. “You’re out of luck. I don’t get scared.” Hope is a sneaky thing, huh? In that cramped closet, I tried to teach him how to grab without looking, how to cover your hands, how to dance with it. Everytime a shadow slid too far under the door, we flinched. The number of times I gave him back his swastika pin was tiring. I noticed he pinned it back more loosely than before. Finally, he didn’t pin it on at all. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t meet my eyes. “I can’t pickpocket. You - you have to do it.” “Yeah.” I watched him fiddle with the pin. “I’m sorry too. But you don’t get out of it this easily.” “What?” “We have maybe half an hour before the party ends. Now or never. I’m the pickpocket.” I opened the door. “You’re the distraction.” ………….. “Pardon, sir. I didn’t mean to bump into you.” I listened to the conversation behind me. “General Wagner, yes? It’s an honor, sir.” With my head turned away and the rest of me sidling closer, I smirked. Louis was a born actor. “My father? Ah, what rumors this time? I think the servants have too much time on their hands.” You don’t get scared. Don’t get scared. “Really, I -” With a splash, the smell of champagne stained the air. “I’m so sorry, here!” As Louis wiped the general’s coat, he pressed a little too hard. The general stumbled backwards into me. In that moment, I had no fear. Machines don’t feel fear. The general turned. My hand kept with the movement of his coat, slipping in and out. The paper was in my pocket before he saw my face. He never would. Reeling as though I’d been hit much harder, I stumbled into the crowd. “My apologies, sir.” Louis hid a laugh - and gave me away.
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