When You Could Only See Red

Any Relation with a Jew is Strictly Prohibited

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens." -Ecclesiastes 3:1 

No one in the Fischer Family agreed with the Nuremberg Laws. Especially Felix. Felix didn't understand. But yet again, the laws have been in the act for years now. He couldn't even remember when the laws didn't exist, or when there weren't cries of help over the radio, or when there wasn't something distressful happening down the block. It was 1938, so the possibilities were endless. With that, came a lot of ridicule. 

Though Victor Gunter had no issues with Margret and her family, he certainly didn't want his youngest son to be badly influenced. But in Felix's eyes, the Fischer family, and the Orthodox Church in Amsterdam felt like the most accepting and loving people he had ever met. More than his father or brothers ever did at least. He was even baptized in the Church, with Margret and her whole family watching and supporting him. That had to mean something right?

Things only got worse as time went on. Margret was called out for being a Jew, even though she wasn't even Jewish! Just because her father and brother were Jewish didn't make her so. And besides, they were kind people, they never did anything wrong. Felix thought that the Jews he met were some of the finest people he knew. But that didn't mean everyone else agreed with him. He was mocked for being around the Fischer family, but he didn't care. His so-called friends were never really his friends in the first place. More like acquittances. But that didn't matter now. None of it did. Especially when his father told him he had to join Hitler's Youth. 

"He's having you join the Fuher's Youth program?" Mrs. Fischer scoffed at the idea. "But you're such a fine boy, you don't need that!" 

"He'll be fine, Aggy," Mr. Fischer said, looking up from the newspaper written in Dutch, the smoke from his afternoon cigar bellowing out from the tip. "He's a smart man." Felix saw Mr. Fischer wink from the corner of his eye. It was a chilly morning in January, and Felix was in the kitchen with Mrs. Fischer and Margret, chopping some vegetables for supper later. Sully was crawling on the floor, now eleven months old, while Avi was reading an architecture book in English. Avi was much smarter than Felix. But Avi loved to study, and Felix didn't. 

Felix was an expectational student, or at least that's what his teachers would tell him, but that didn't mean he liked to study. Avi and Margret were readers by trade, while Felix enjoyed the Sciences and History. He also adorned art- which did well with Mr. Fischer. Mr. Fischer was an art professor at the University in Amsterdam and made lots of money selling and transporting art from the Netherlands all the way to the US. It made Felix feel hopeful that there was something more than just doing arithmetic each and every day of his life. Knowing there was something else out there that was better, brought him peace. His father told him that Hitler's Youth would educate him, and prepare him for the future. It would give him an edge over the other boys, and get him possibly into the army or the navy. It could even get him to America. 

Victor Gunter always had an obsession with the United States. After his brother, Olek, went after the First World War, he made the Gunter family richer than Victor could have ever imagined. This caught Victor's attention because he did not want the family name to fade in the dust after his passing. Gunter had four sons; Felix, who was the youngest, the twins, Dirk and Jasper, both were enrolled in Hitler's Youth at the of eleven and were now wealthy soldiers who worked firsthand with the Fuhrer himself. His other son, Aton, who was also in Hitler's Youth as a boy (now seventeen) was a trainer for the Youth program and brought supplies to the enemy lines for the Nazi Party. 

Now, fifteen-year-old Felix has to join as well. 

"Smart man or not, I wouldn't ever send my son into such an awful place. I heard from Gloria that they forced young boys to storm the RCGYA and control the workers," Mrs. Fischer cried as she scooped the chopped-up vegetables and tossed them into a metal pot. The steam from the boiling water floated up in fumes, filling the room with the satisfying smell of roast. The Fischer's made lots of roasts in the past few years. It was one of the only meals that fed the whole family and was still mildly affordable.