Freya Raybold

Mr. O’Connell

Writing

3.20.20

The Orange Parka

When Kate Parker was a little girl, she was not Kate Parker, but that was a long time ago.

On a bright summer day in April the Leah’s grandfather clock struck three. The three long tolls

echoed through the empty Leah house on Shwartenz road. It rang in the kitchen where Jaehn

Leah used to spend hours cooking for her family, it echoed in the lifeless parlor where the

family’s children used to play with their friends, and it dispersed into the air filling the deserted

nursery that had seen so much life. It was all so bleak that even thirty years later, Jinhua

wouldn’t want to return.

When the round ups first started, they were small and only in central Germany. As time

progressed, they started rounding up more Jewish people. After a year none were left with in

thirty miles of Shwartenz road. My family was hopeful. They believed that they wouldn’t be

taken to the concentration camps because they had blue eyes. They would have to have more

than that to escape the Nazi’s wrath. It had been nearly a month and they still hadn’t been

recognized as Jews.

“I’m home. Everyone come here, we have to talk about something important.” My mom

called

“What?” I asked. She told me I had to wait for everyone else. When they finally arrived,

my mom began explaining.

 “Jinhua,” she said looking at me “Kaleb” she said to my brother “Tanita, Tamar,” said

looking at my baby sister and dad. “me and your father, Tamar made an important decision.

Here.” Mom gave me and Kaleb yellow stars the size of Tanita’s fist. It had writing on it.

“Jude.” Kaleb read aloud. Jew. It was astonishing how the one word could mean so

much. When they first started appearing, I used to wonder who made them. Before, the stars

meant nothing bad, they only displayed our religion, but the changed quickly. In my mind, I saw

young girls around my age sitting in summer garden and carefully stitching the brown lettering

onto each patch while talking amongst themselves. Now I imagined dark stone rooms with long

tables and rows upon rows of people forced into labor. Do they know what they are doing? Are

they prisoners trying to survive, or Germans filled with hate and resentment? That may be one

thing we never know.

“They found out?” I cried.

“No. I asked for it.” She stated it calmly and surely the way one would say I’m ten years

old, and you? “I think it is important to embrace our religion, there is no need to hide from it.”

Kaleb quickly agreed. He would do anything to seem like the sweet and innocent child. He took

the star and taped it to his jacket. “Lebby, that isn’t how it works.” Both my parents laughed.

That was the last time they ever did that because the very next day we were deported.

Nothing would ever be the same. I thought, staring at my orange and blue friendship

bracelet. I still remember when I made it. It was sunny which normally put 12-year-old kids such

as myself in a good mood, but it wasn’t a pleasant warm. It was that humid, stuffy air that

makes you feel claustrophobic. I sat on the summer grass with my sketch book and drew the

butterflies that filled the air. It may sound beautiful, but trust me, once they landed on your
skin you would have a different opinion. I sat and drew the landscape. When I was finished, I

walked over to the corner store where I found Laurin working.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“it’s a bit… unrealistic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but I like what I added.”

“Well, I love the school, but we aren’t allowed to go to there. No use dreaming.”

“How could you say that? The world is made of dreams. No use doing work when you

could be writing or drawing or, or something fun! You know, sometimes I wonder why we’re

even friends.”

“It is kinda strange, but that’s an easy answer.”

“I know, I know. June 11.” It’s not like I could forget. I wanted to dream and she to work

so we made bracelets. I said they should be blue

“No way! Orange is way better.”

“Then they can be two colors.” I said

“But they don’t match!”

“Just like us.” I’d said. Just like us. Little did I know that for the next few months I’d be

clinging to Laurin and these memories, relying on them far too much.

Three weeks, six days, four hours and thirteen minutes. That is the amount of time it has

been since I was happy. And, no, that’s not how long it’s been since we were deported. Nearly a

month ago they were bused off with hundreds of other people. I had been away when they

took them. I had seen the bus walking home though. All I didn’t know was that when I returned,

I would be alone.
 When I realized what had happened, I began to cry. I saw them leave; I saw them being

taken but I didn’t know. I argued with myself. I am a horrible person. No, I’m not. Yes, I am, I left

my family and now they’ll die! No, they won’t, dad will take care of them. They separate people,

you know that Jinhua. There was nothing you could have done. I sat there for a while, hours and

I would have for days had I not been so hungry.

What will I do? I can’t stay here, they’ll come clear out our stuff. Then it dawned on me. Laurin

only lived three blocks down the street! I went there only to find that she was gone too. Ever

since then, I haven’t been happy.

I am a different person now. There is no color. Everything is black and grey. Even white

is too bright and cheery. The only thing I kept was my bracelet. I got rid of everything, even my

name. Jinhua Leah? Yeah, definitely Jewish. I went for something more generic I didn’t waste

my time on it. From now on, I was Kate Parker. I’d lived in Germany my whole life, but my

parents were from Sweden. All of that was believable, I even created an accent. The only thing

people might be skeptical about is my age. In truth, I was 14, but I was tall. I figured if I tried, I

could pass for 18. I know it’s a stretch, but I had to be or else there would be questions about

my family.

I was a thief. I never wanted to steal, and I always felt bad about it, but I only stole from

people who either deserved it or wouldn’t notice. I normally only stole food and water,

occasionally soda or candy. But winter was coming. I could taste it in the air, the northern winds

were picking up and soon it would be too cold for me to stay outside. I’d been putting it off, but

I had to steal winter clothes now. And then, I saw it. The orange coat big, puffy, and abandoned

in the park. I don’t know what drew it too me, it was not at all my style and it was way too
bright. It would do nothing but attract attention, but I put it on and didn’t take it off for two

months. The winter months were somewhat uneventful. That is, until one day in December

right before Hanukkah that I saw her. It took all my will power to restrain myself from running

to her. I’ll be back, I’m coming for you Laurin.

I was about to do the stupidest thing in my life. I was sneaking into the ghetto. That’s

right, I said into. The very next night in set my plan into action. I chipped away at the bricks

making tiny holes. Not enough for someone’s head, but enough to act as foot holds. That

morning, I walked in through the front door. I found laurin.

“We are getting here. Now.” I said with such a stern tone I surprised myself.

“No, wait. I have to talk to you first.” I’d been expecting what she told me and there was no

denying its truth, but it still hit me hard. My family had been separated. Kaleb and dad were

sent to Dachau after a week, but my mom was kept here with Tanita who died of some

sickness. Mom was taken to Auschwitz not long after that.

“There’s no hope is there?” I sobbed.

“Not really. But there is for us or was. Why did you come here?”

“To save you, of course- “

“That was stupid.”

“Maybe, but worth a shot.”

“Yeah, the one the guards will use to kill us.”

“Laurin!!! I AM LEAVING AND YOU ARE COMING WITH ME!” that worked. We waited

impatiently for the sun to set and once it did, we set off. The dim light almost let me forget

what a horrible place we were in. Our feet scuttled and sloshed in the freshly melted snow. The
weather was not on our side, that was for sure. We had to pull into the entrance of a building

when a guard passed. That scared Laurin.

“Jinhua, wait.”

“That’s not my name. Its Kate now.” I whispered sharply. “No matter, we have to go

now.” As we made our way to my secret escape route, I noticed just how bad it really was. I felt

horrible that my family had to live here. Laurin went first, then me. Just as I was halfway over, a

guard turned the corner! He saw me and started yelling. No time for caution. I jumped down,

loudly splashing into the puddle of slush beneath me. We ran as if our lives depended on it, well

actually, they did. As we got far enough away to slow down, I felt the breeze on my arm. It was

nice. Wait. I had my jacket on. I looked at the torn sleeve.

“Great,” I said, “Just great.”

It took a long time. Every night I would lie in bed unable to sleep. When I did I’d have

nightmares about the Germans tracing me down with the scrap of my coat. They would knock

on my door; say how do you do?” Then throw me into a cart and take me somewhere I didn’t

want to go. My nights may be bad, but my days where much better. I spent them cooking,

eating and talking with laurin.

I was happy with my existence. Until one night when Laurin, her friends and I were

playing bored games. There was a knock on the door. I opened it to find two strange men. They

both had blonde hair and were very tall.

“Good evening, ma’am.” One said, but what the second one did was truly unnerving.

He held up a dirty orange piece of cloth and, with the largest grin, said

“How do you do?”

 You may believe that Jinhua died. In a way, she did but that happened way before the

end of this story. Kate Parker however, she was a survivor. It may have been a bit extreme to

say I was not always Kate Parker, but everything was different. Jinhua was a child. The day she

became Kate Johnson, she grew up. Had someone compared 13-year-old Jinhua to 13-year-old

Kate, one would have seen no similarities.