Daisies - Sammantha Lewis (essential books to read TXT) 📗

Taylor for such a long time. Miss Taylor was a young woman who was tall and thin. she had long curly brown hair, and brown eyes. No, her eyes were a very light brown, they had blue ring around the pupils. Although I was so young, I remembered her dutiful eyes. She was such a kind woman. She owned a small bakery that now only sells flat breads.
at that thought, I remembered that we were low on bread. So I walked back inside and went into my room I went into my dresser and found 39 zlotys
Just then, my parents came home.
"I thought you two were sleeping." I told them.
"Yes, well we had to go while you were sleeping," my father told me. He seemed angry. as he walked past me, I smelt smoke or something close to smoke. In addition, as they walked away black dust fell off their clothes.
"Where were you?" I asked. My mother had black dust on her rosy cheeks.
“shopping." my mother answered. I knew she was lying. My father sat in his chair.
"Mama, how could you get that dirty shopping?" I did not believe there story.
"Allison, leave it alone." My father said. I listened to him and backed out of the apartment.
I started to walk to miss Taylor’s bakery. As I walk down the road, I heard two women talking.
"Did you hear about those horrid rebels?"
"No I did not. What happened?"
“They bombed a Nazi supplies train.”
“Oh dear!”
“It's somewhat good news,”
“oh yes! I agree!” I passed the two women. I arrived at Miss. Taylor’s bakery. I opened the heavy glass door, and saw Miss. Patty behind the counter.
“Hi there, Ally. And what can I get you today?” Miss patty leaned on the counter.
“Hi miss. Patty.” I smiled and replied.
“Ally, don’t call me ‘miss’. It makes me feel old.” She gave me a crooked smile. I looked at her green eyes and laughed,
“Yes Patty. By the way could I please have one loaf of the ‘apple nut’ bread?” I asked. She looked down at the shelf and said sadly,
“Sorry Ally, but we only have, flat bread, sour dough, wheat, and challah bread. No apple nut,” she popped her head back up over the counter.
“That’s okay. By the way where’s Miss Taylor?” I asked. I was concerned because Miss. Taylor always worked on the weekends.
After I said, this Patty looks as if she was going to cry. She struggled to force the word out of her mouth,
“She was taken.” I could tell that it pained her to say it.
“By who? Who could dare to do something so awful?” I was in shock. Miss. Taylor was the kindest woman I had ever met. Patty put her hand over her mouth and replied,
“The Germans,” she said. She started to cry but she kept telling me about what happened.
“They came in and asked her questions. She answered them truthfully, and they took her! They just took her without telling me where she was going!” she collapsed on the floor and cry for a minute or two. I went behind the counter and sat next to her on the floor. She sat with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them.
“why did they take her if she’s not Jewish?” I asked. Patty looked at me,
“Ally they don’t just target Jewish people. They also target Muslims, Africans, Mormons, Jehovah witnesses, Catholics, homosexuals, mentally ill, disabled, criminals, and so many more.” She looked at me as if she could not list any more.
“What does that have to do with Miss. Taylor?” I asked. Patty looked at me with a broken stare. When she looked like that, I felt like I could cry as well.
“She was Catholic.” After she said that, she put her head against the wall.
“It’s not fair.” She cried out. I got up and looked down at her. I got up of the floor and replayed
“I agree. ´ reached out my hand to her. She grabbed my hand and pulled herself up.
Got up of the floor as well and exclaimed,
“God! I must look pathetic!” I laughed and jokingly said
“You do.” We laughed for a bit and then she gave me a loaf of challah bread, and I gave her 35 zlotys. I then smiled, thanked her, and then left. I ran towards Miss. Kings house, I ran down an alleyway towards her house. The narrow path was damp and rocky. I tripped over several rocks and fell in puddles many times. Right before I left the alley, I fell into a puddle with a thud. The brown water splashed me and my stockings were soaked. The hem of my tan coat was now brown and muddy. I unwrapped the bread and was relieved to see that the bread was unharmed. I got up and walk carefully to the end of the alley. As I emerged I saw Mrs. Kings house across the road. I ran across the street and walked up to her front door. I knocked on the door. Mrs. Kings opened the door.
“Ally, What are you doing?” she was shocked to see me.
“I bought some bread and wanted to know if you wanted some.” I told her. She smiled and laughed,
“That’s very sweet. Will you please come in?” she seemed pleased that I came. I walked in a set the loaf on the counter. I slowly unwrapped it and cut it in half. We sat down at the table with cups of coffee.
“Were did you find this? I haven’t seen challah bread in so long!” Mrs. Kings asked.
“ At the ‘Taylor’s bakery’ down the road.” I told her.
“oh, how is Taylor?” she looked t me with wide eyes in hopes of hearing good news. I only hung my head trying holding back the tears. I looked up at her with a heavy heart. I looked at her cheerful look of that of a child’s on their birth day sitting in front of large cake and a mountain of gifts. I took a breath
“She was taken by the Germans.” I managed to force a smile that quickly faded and turned in to a troubled frown. Mrs. kings was in pure shock.
“Were did they take her?” She asked.
“Only God knows”
“This is mutiny”
“It’s absolutely unfair”
“She’ll be back when the war is over.” Mrs. Kings put her old wrinkled hand on my knee and gave me a warm assuring smile.
“She simple has to. I don’t know what I would do if she doesn’t come back.” I stared down at my bread and tea. Mrs. Kings sat up strait and looked up at the photo on her wall.
“I would constantly babysit Taylor when she was young.” She then pointed up at a photo. I got up to look at the photo.
I saw A woman in her late 30’s or early 40’s with her hands on the shoulders of two small children that looked about three. There was a small girl pouting sitting on the floor. She had curly blond hair. I assumed that that was Miss. Taylor. I also saw a boy playing with a wooden car. He was smiling and laughing at miss. Taylor. I pointed at the woman.
“ is that you?” I asked Mrs. Kings.
“Yes it is. And the little girl is Mrs. Taylor.” She told me. I looked back at the small boy in the photo.
“And the small boy?” I asked. I looked at Mrs. Kings.
“That’s my son, Ben, him and Taylor where best friends.” I looked at the photo next to it was a photo of a young man in a polish forces uniform.
“That’s the most resent photo of Ben. He fought in the army when Poland was invaded by the Germans. That was the last time I saw him. The most painful thing on this earth is a man on your front porch telling you your son is dead.”
“I’m so sorry I asked.”
“it was not your fault . Anyway it’s almost curfew.” I glanced up at the clock
“Oh my god! It’s almost eight!” I hugged and thanked Mrs. Kings. for the tea. Before I closed the heavy wooden door I looked back at her lonely gaze in her eyes. My hear grew heavy knowing that I was leaving her alone. I then smiled and shut the door. I walked down the damp street to my apartment. I looked up at the sun set and saw the rain clouds rolling away. Even the dark clouds captured the pink and violet light.
I saw the entrance to my apartment building, but to my displeasure I saw a Soldier standing and questioning people. I did not feel like being asked ‘may I see your passport?’ or ‘why aren’t your studying?’, today. I saw the fire escape on the side of the building. I walked over to the alley that the high ladder hug over. I got a running start and grabbed on to the ladder. I then quickly slid down and I climbed each ladder till I reached the sixth floor. I opened the