Tell No One Who You Are Read Online Free
Author: Walter Buchignani
moving her head, Régine shifted her eyes to look at her father, who was standing to the side. She saw that he was smiling, and he winked at her.
“This way,” Monsieur Dietens said. Régine looked into the lens of the big camera, whose front expanded and retracted like an accordion. She straightened her shoulders and was conscious of the yellow star on the left side of her chest. She smiled at the thought of the red star underneath. That’s when Monsieur Dietens pressed the shutter with a terrific flash of light.
When the black and white print was ready, her father put it in a frame and hung it on the wall along with the other family photographs. Régine liked the photo. It was her favorite picture of herself. The secret it contained made her smile every time she saw it. She looked forward to the second visit to Monsieur Dietens’ photo studio, when the underside of the yellow star would be revealed to all.
Chapter Seven
W ITHOUT SCHOOL , Régine spent most of her days in the apartment. The walls of the living room were covered with family photographs. She got to know them well from staring at them so much. There was her Aunt Ida, her father’s sister, who lived in Brussels, only twenty minutes away by tram. She used to invite Régine for a dinner of roast beef on Sundays. Roast beef was something her mother never made, saying it was a luxury that “only Tante Ida can afford.”
Then there was her favorite uncle, Zigmund, her father’s brother who had gone from Poland to live in Germany first but left and came to Belgium when Hitler and the Nazis made life dangerous for Jews. When he still lived in Germany Oncle Zigmund had come to Brussels for a visit and brought Régine a doll as a gift. It was her one and only doll.
She stared at the picture of Oncle Shlomo and wondered what it was like in England now. When she was four, the family traveled to England by ferry on a visit and Oncle Shlomo taught her how to count to ten in English, the first English she ever learned. On the radio she heard that the Germans were bombing England. Was Oncle Shlomo all right?
The biggest photo hung above the bed in her parents’ room. It was black and white in a heavy, wooden frame. It showed a young, handsome couple, the groom thin and good-looking in a dark suit, standing next to his bride who looked very pretty in her long white gown. Régine’s parentshad married in Poland in 1923. They came to Belgium in 1928 with Léon, who was two years old.
Régine was struck by how much her father still looked like the handsome man in the picture. Only her mother had changed. She looked too old and thin now to be the person in the picture. She also looked sadder. Régine knew the reason as she looked at her mother in the bed beneath the photograph. She was getting sicker all the time and got up for short periods at a time, then had to go back to rest.
Her father no longer took Régine to the Solidarité meetings. Acts of sabotage increased against war factories and communication lines. It was very dangerous. Suspects were rounded up and taken to the headquarters of the Gestapo, the German secret police. There they were shot and their names published in the newspapers for everyone to see, as a warning to anyone who thought of opposing the German occupation.
But the Germans killed not only suspected saboteurs. Anyone thought to be communist or socialist was an enemy of the Nazis. Many were taken away, never to be seen again.
One of the first to disappear was Monsieur Demers, the upstairs neighbor who used to invite her father to listen to his radio. Even though he was not Jewish, he had been arrested as a member of a Belgian organization opposing the Germans.
Régine often thought about the red underside of her Star of David. If anyone were to find out about it, what would happen? Her father was in danger, too. Her mother brought it up every time her father left the apartment. “Be careful,” she whispered. “If they find out
“This way,” Monsieur Dietens said. Régine looked into the lens of the big camera, whose front expanded and retracted like an accordion. She straightened her shoulders and was conscious of the yellow star on the left side of her chest. She smiled at the thought of the red star underneath. That’s when Monsieur Dietens pressed the shutter with a terrific flash of light.
When the black and white print was ready, her father put it in a frame and hung it on the wall along with the other family photographs. Régine liked the photo. It was her favorite picture of herself. The secret it contained made her smile every time she saw it. She looked forward to the second visit to Monsieur Dietens’ photo studio, when the underside of the yellow star would be revealed to all.
Chapter Seven
W ITHOUT SCHOOL , Régine spent most of her days in the apartment. The walls of the living room were covered with family photographs. She got to know them well from staring at them so much. There was her Aunt Ida, her father’s sister, who lived in Brussels, only twenty minutes away by tram. She used to invite Régine for a dinner of roast beef on Sundays. Roast beef was something her mother never made, saying it was a luxury that “only Tante Ida can afford.”
Then there was her favorite uncle, Zigmund, her father’s brother who had gone from Poland to live in Germany first but left and came to Belgium when Hitler and the Nazis made life dangerous for Jews. When he still lived in Germany Oncle Zigmund had come to Brussels for a visit and brought Régine a doll as a gift. It was her one and only doll.
She stared at the picture of Oncle Shlomo and wondered what it was like in England now. When she was four, the family traveled to England by ferry on a visit and Oncle Shlomo taught her how to count to ten in English, the first English she ever learned. On the radio she heard that the Germans were bombing England. Was Oncle Shlomo all right?
The biggest photo hung above the bed in her parents’ room. It was black and white in a heavy, wooden frame. It showed a young, handsome couple, the groom thin and good-looking in a dark suit, standing next to his bride who looked very pretty in her long white gown. Régine’s parentshad married in Poland in 1923. They came to Belgium in 1928 with Léon, who was two years old.
Régine was struck by how much her father still looked like the handsome man in the picture. Only her mother had changed. She looked too old and thin now to be the person in the picture. She also looked sadder. Régine knew the reason as she looked at her mother in the bed beneath the photograph. She was getting sicker all the time and got up for short periods at a time, then had to go back to rest.
Her father no longer took Régine to the Solidarité meetings. Acts of sabotage increased against war factories and communication lines. It was very dangerous. Suspects were rounded up and taken to the headquarters of the Gestapo, the German secret police. There they were shot and their names published in the newspapers for everyone to see, as a warning to anyone who thought of opposing the German occupation.
But the Germans killed not only suspected saboteurs. Anyone thought to be communist or socialist was an enemy of the Nazis. Many were taken away, never to be seen again.
One of the first to disappear was Monsieur Demers, the upstairs neighbor who used to invite her father to listen to his radio. Even though he was not Jewish, he had been arrested as a member of a Belgian organization opposing the Germans.
Régine often thought about the red underside of her Star of David. If anyone were to find out about it, what would happen? Her father was in danger, too. Her mother brought it up every time her father left the apartment. “Be careful,” she whispered. “If they find out
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