Tempo

There were no words for the treachery I was infringing upon my country at this moment, against all of Germany. I stood there silently, looking at him as he quivered under my gaze clearly afraid. Clearly underfed and clearly a victim of the unimaginable horrors of living in complete and utter panic. He looked like a beggar, or something close to one, a limp in his right leg causing him to lean to the other awkwardly. I was, very literally, death personified and looking at a potential prey. It was in my power to kill him, my right to kill him, but questions rose from my mouth instead. A curiosity building inside me.

"Why are you here? Who are you?"

It was clear German and this was Germany, the motherland, surely this man understood.

"What are you doing?"

More silence in my presence, maybe he didn't know what I was saying at all. Most Jews did, but the minority did not. Maybe he was part of that small number.

"Do you understand?"

A frightened little deer he was, his eyes followed my every move even though I did not make one, a sense of alarm in his eyes.

"I do"

Perfect, almost perfect, German was spoken back to me. His heritage got in the way of the true Aryan accent that most Polish had ,but this was expected of them. They were not true Germans.

"Then...what are you doing?"

He gulped uncertainly, probably thinking of possible escape routes. "I...I was trying to open this can"

My eyes ventured to the offly large can on the floor, its contents still streaming into the cracks of the destroyed wood. He looked at it briefly in longing and disappointment, there was still more inside.

"Do you live here?"

He said nothing and I wondered where his small bit of courage went, he had enough to speak freely in front of a German officer that was perfectly capable of killing him and not being charged of any crime.

He shook his head. "No"

"Your profession then?"

It took him time to answer, maybe to think of an elaborate lie to obtain his right to live in the face of danger. That's how they were depicted and viewed, liars and greedy money makers that like to steal, to cause others and the motherland pain. Who was I to test this known fact to the test? Who was I...to question our one and only ruler?

He shivered, his breath coming out in a larger cloud than mine. I was warmer than him I observed, more clean shaven, more fortunate...and here we were on equal ground.

"I was a pianist" he muttered lowly.

I did not believe him momentarily, they were liars as the general had said. They would do anything to get out of a bad situation and I believed him in full, they lied all the time. What made this one so different?

"A pianist"

I mimicked his words. Trying to apply the profession as well as the adjective to the thing standing before me, it did not fit. I needed proof of what I could not see. I walked away from him, the slightest movements sending frightened expressions across his face.

"Show me"

I walked ahead of him expecting him to follow behind like a wounded animal, my word was law, any Aryan's word was law over the heads of those that endangered the country. He did not follow. I stopped and turned around when I did not hear the echoing steps behind me.

"Come on"

It was a command and he obeyed. He limped along past me as I held open the barely intact door for his entrance.