Free Annexed by Sharon Dogar Page B

Rauter!" says Mr. Frank in English. Anne laughs as though she understands the joke. Perhaps she does, perhaps she's so clever that she'll be able to save herself.
    But how will they cleanse us? That's what Anne asked and what I want to know. Cleansing makes me think of anthills and poison. It makes me feel like I want to put on boots and crush each Nazi like a beetle beneath my feet. Is this what Mr. Frank means when he says I shouldn't be filled with their hate? Does it make me as bad as they are?
    I reach behind the rafters and pull out one of Papi's cigarettes. I light it. The smoke makes me cough.
    "All right?" asks Margot. She appears so silently I jump. I didn't hear her.
    "Cleansed," I whisper. It's like that with Margot. She's so quiet you can just go on thinking. "They're cleansing us, like cockroaches."
    "We
are
cockroaches—to them," she says. But she even says that quietly, like it's a fact, not anything to get especially upset about. She sits next to me and leans forward, breathes in the smoke.
    "Want some?" I ask. "Just make sure you don't breathe it in—it makes you cough!"
    But she shakes her head. "I just wanted to know what it's like. I hate it. It smells."
    We're silent for a while.
    "At least the Dutch are still on our side," she whispers. I nod. A few days ago the Dutch resistance dressed up as German officers and blew up the labor exchange! Even better, when the firemen came they kept the hoses going and deliberately drenched everything as well as putting the fire out. So all the records are ruined. We both look at each other and smile.
    "We're not cockroaches, are we, Margot?" I don't know why I ask her, the words just come out.
    "No, Peter," she says, "but they try to make us feel like we are, and if they succeed, then they've won." I stare at her. I don't think I've ever heard her say so many words, or sound so passionate. She blushes. "At least that's what Father says," she adds quickly, and then she turns away.
    "Peter, where do you think they send us?" she asks suddenly. She doesn't look at me, and she doesn't wait for an answer either before she asks the next question. "And what do you think they do with us?"
    I don't answer. I glance at her, a quick glance. Her glasses glint in the light. I look away. It's like walking on hot coals, asking questions. I look up at the buds on the tree. I don't look at Margot.
    "I don't know," I whisper, "but I suppose ... I think, cleanse means, clean out, get rid of ... it means kill. I suppose."
    "But why?" she whispers.
    I shake my head. "Your father says they're so full of hate for themselves they have to get rid of it somehow."
    "Peter!" she whisper-yells and I realize my fingers are burning. I drop the cigarette. I'd forgotten it was still in my hand.
    "Quick!" she says. We crush it, over and over until every single spark has gone.
    "Imagine!" is all Margot says. And we do. We both know
if the building caught fire we'd be flushed out like animals—or burned to death. We both know how trapped we are. How helpless.
    Margot tries to smile and then turns to go. I haven't answered her question. The question we all ask ourselves, over and over, but never speak out loud, except Anne.
    "Margot?" She looks up.
    "I ... I don't know why us," I say.
    She shakes her head. "Neither do I, but sometimes..." She stops.
    "What, Margot?"
    She sits on the top of the stairs and puts her chin in her hands. I wait.
    "Sometimes I'm actually glad it's not just us," she says. "I mean that it's others too. That they hate anyone who isn't exactly like them, it ... oh, I don't know!"
    "Neither do I."
    "Do you think that makes me bad?" she asks. "I mean, being glad that other people suffer?"
    I laugh. "You, Margot? Bad? You're the sweetest person anywhere, ever."
    "Oh!" she says. "I ... you...?"
    "Margot, you couldn't be bad if you tried."
    "I think I could," she says slowly, thoughtfully, as though it was something she should try.
    I start to laugh. "Not if you have to think