Free Good-bye Marianne by Irene N.Watts

think you have to. You see, I can’t keep you safe anymore. I don’t know how. Not here in Berlin, not in Düsseldorf, or anyplace else the Nazis are. You need to live a normal life, to go to school, to have friends over. To play and walk anywhere you want. How can I let you stay in a country where you dread a knock on the door; where we are afraid to light our Sabbath candles; where our houses of prayer are destroyed? I don’t want you to grow up afraid because you are Jewish. Germany is a bad place to grow up in right now. One day it may be safe to live here again. For now, we must take this chance for you to escape to a free country.
    “Vati asked us to be brave. Marianne, help us both to be brave enough. Agree to leave.”
    “Vati said we should look after each other, remember? I can’t do that if I’m away from you,” said Marianne.
    “Can’t you see how hard this is for me?” Mrs. Kohn tried to smile. “If you go to England first, it will be easier for Vati and I to follow you. It will mean we’ll already have a foothold in a new country. It could make it easier for us to get an exit visa.”
    Marianne said, “On one condition. You must swear to come.”
    Her mother said, “How can I do that? But I solemnly swear to try. Marianne, there is no time left. What is your answer?”
    “Alright, I’ll go.” Marianne put her pillow over her head so as not to hear her mother leave the room to telephone Mrs. Rabinovitch.

T he rest of the day passed much too quickly. Marianne began by piling all her “must-take-this” belongings on her bed.
    Mrs. Kohn said, “Two steamer trunks wouldn’t be big enough for all of this. Look, I’ve made a list. The glass animals would really be safer at Oma’s, don’t you think?”
    The pile on the bed swayed.
    “The Tower of Pisa’s falling,” said Marianne. She started to laugh and then looked at her mother. They spoke at exactly the same time.
    “I don’t want to choose, I love my things. I don’t want to go.”
    “I never want to finish packing, or see you shut this suitcase,” said Mrs. Kohn. And then they hugged each other tightly.
    Marianne thought, ‘I’m really saying good-bye. This is good-bye, and I don’t understand how it all happened so quickly. It’s a horrible dream, and I want to wake up.’
    “Why don’t we pretend you’re going away to a holiday camp? It’s true in a way. Campers can only carry one suitcase because it’s a long way to the campsite, and there’s no one to help.”
    “Is that what the Nazis said? I don’t mean the part about camp, more likely to be a concentration camp.” Marianne immediately wished she hadn’t made the flippant remark. She was always doing that lately, but it helped her to bear things more easily. Her mother’s ashen face made her realize this wasn’t the right time, but Mrs. Kohn answered Marianne as if she hadn’t noticed the cruel reference.
    “Yes. Each child is entirely responsible for his own belongings, even the smallest children. No valuables allowed, nothing that might be sold, or you could have your things confiscated, and be turned back.”
    “Terrific, you’d hear a knock on the door and it’d be me.” Marianne ran to the bedroom door and rapped on it sharply. She turned round dramatically, saw her mother’s stricken face and said, “I don’t know why I’m behaving like this. I can’t seem to help it. Sorry.”
    “I know, my darling,” said Mrs. Kohn. “Let’s start again.”
    Finally they decided on: hairbrush, comb, toothbrush and toothpaste. Dressing gown and slippers. Three pairs of socks. Three pairs of underwear – vests and underpants. Two sweaters – one red and one navy. Two blouses, two skirts. One pair of shoes, three handkerchiefs, paper and envelopes, and a German/English dictionary.
    “You’ll wear your brown lace-up boots and your Star of Davidlike you always do, under your blouse. And, of course, your winter overcoat. England is very cold and damp, I’m