Bittersweet

Bittersweet

Snow spiraled in lazy patterns outside, illuminated by the gas-style lampposts lining the quaint streets of Oberammergau.  Nava Gould sensed she was not alone and paused, burrowing deeper into the folds of her coat as she turned around.  Tears still stung her hazel eyes, making them glisten above the white fluff of her scarf.  She watched Ulrich shoulder his way through a throng of shoppers, his stride marked with determination.  Brushing a few stray strands of inky hair from her face, she regarded him in silence.

“We have to talk.”

His husky baritone washed over her, searing a fresh wound into her heart.  Clamping her eyes shut, she attempted to staunch the flow of her tears and block him out.  Her head shook in pleading denial.  “There is nothing to talk about.”

His fingers curled around her arm.  “I’m not buying that.  Stop shutting me out, Nava, please.”

Her shoulders jerked with a muffled sob.  Mad laughter threatened to bubble from her throat.  She opened her eyes and felt instant regret as his wounded blue gaze confronted her.  They spoke to her without words, beseeching her to give him just one more moment of her time … just one more chance.  “Why?  You forget this decision is no longer mine or yours to make.  You are one of them.”

His forehead creased and for one agonizing moment, she thought he might cry.  He stepped closer and caught her hands in his.  His head hung, his chestnut hair falling forward to shield the expressive blue pool of his eyes. “It’s not like that.  You know it’s not like that.”

Nava felt her shoulders slump beneath the weighted burden of emotion.  She shivered as much from the cold as the rampant turmoil within her.  “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Defeat tinged her tone and she regarded him through a blurred veil of tears.  His fingers gave hers a pleading squeeze; his face crumpled with the impact of her words.  She bit her lip to keep from throwing her arms around him and easing his pain.  This profound sorrow was not his alone.  It was theirs to share. 

Nava lowered her head.  “Don’t you ever worry about where you are headed?  Where is this thing going, Ulrich?”

He released her hands and drew a shaky breath.  Lips pursed, he cast an imploring glance toward the sky.  His eyes drifted shut and she felt every hammering beat of her heart in the tense moment of silence that ensued.  Steeling her jaw, Nava witnessed the man she loved rage against the same demons he battled on a daily basis.  Even the thick snow blanketing Oberammergau could not cleanse the town or purge his soul.  Nothing could.  The poison spreading through Germany had seeped too far.

A ragged sigh escaped his lips and she finally caught her breath when his gaze locked with hers.  His expressive face showed every emotion festering below the surface: anger, torment, fear, pain … she hated them all.

“Nava, you must understand.  This is me.  It’s who I am.  I grew up with these guys.  The Reich is my family.  As wrong as their actions may be, I can’t walk away from that.”

“I’m not asking you to.”  She offered a small smile as she whispered the words that felt so foreign.  The back of her fingers brushed his cheek in a tender gesture before she ran her palm over the dark stubble on his face.  Knowing to touch him again would be her undoing, she thrust her hands into her coat pockets. 

“We both know this could never work.  Go back to your family, Ulrich--to the Reich.”

“Nava …”

“Don’t,” she pleaded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Ulrich cupped her face in his hands.  Before she could react, his lips crushed against hers and melded into a searing kiss that weakened all resolve.  His smell, the unique scent that drove her wild and belonged to Ulrich alone, mingled with tweed and cologne to infiltrate her senses.  Heat spiraled and detonated a low throb through her core.  His fist tangled in her hair, holding her captive as he deepened their encounter.  Breathless, she struggled against him in a desperate bid for freedom and her heart.

Ulrich broke the kiss, but not his hold.  Oblivious to the gawking holiday shoppers, he leaned his forehead against hers.  “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel anything.”

She started to respond, but he pressed his forefinger against her lips. 

“If we work at this, work at us, we can have something.  Not just anything, but something special.  You know it and I know it, so stop running and listen to what you already know.  I’m not going to hurt you and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”  He paused and held her face so he could look her in the eye.  “I love you.”

Tears coursed down her face.  She felt the drops pool between his palms and cool against her cheeks.  Ashamed, she tried to lower her head and avoid his probing gaze.  Memories of a not so distant time shattered the beauty of the moment.  They sliced through her consciousness like a well honed razor.  Nava recalled the terrifying feeling of a cold steel revolver invading her mouth with a shudder.  She remembered the sight of her family lying humiliated and beaten on the streets.

“How?” she whispered.  “How can you love me?  Knowing what you do, how could you ever trust me?”

Ulrich stepped closer.  His forehead pressed against hers and his hands stroked the sides of her face as if he could erase the nightmares.  “This isn’t about Germans and Jews, Nava.  This is about us.  No one will ever hurt you again.  I promise you that.”

The sincerity in his voice was her undoing.  Letting herself go, Nava sobbed into his shoulder.  Even the strong circumference of his embrace could not staunch the steady flow of tears.  A helpless sound worked its way from her throat, a keening whimper that spoke of her desperate need to believe in this man and the sanctity he offered.  He held her, a thick curtain of snow blanketing them both, until her sobs subsided.

Pulling back, Ulrich gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.  “We’ll be alright, love.”

They made their way through the downtown district.  Many shops were now vacant, either shut down by Gestapo or abandoned when its Jewish owner fled in search of refuge.  Nava paused outside a bookstore she frequented as a child.  No longer vibrant and welcoming, a dusty film covered the front windows as if the store itself tried to shy away from the cruel injustice outside.

Closing her eyes, she placed her palm against the dingy glass.  The world around her was drifting into an eternal slumber.  One by one, the people and places she loved disappeared and faded to gray.  Ulrich’s steady hand draped over her shoulder, reminding her that she didn’t have to be alone.  At least not yet.  Turning to face him, she let him steer her away and offer the comfort of a soothing murmur.

They stopped at the small footbridge near the city’s edge.  Beyond them, purple-hued mountains loomed against the dark winter sky.  To Nava, they signaled a freedom, an escape just beyond reach … a place untainted by hatred.

“Nava?”

She turned in time to watch Ulrich pull something from his coat.  The package was rumpled, wrapped in plain white paper, and tied with a piece of red yarn.  Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she lent him an uncertain smile.

“You ran off before I could give this to you.  It’s not for any holiday.  It’s just something from me to you.”

His fingers curled over hers, holding them long after he placed the offering in her hands.  Her heart pounded a rapid rhythm in her chest, a mixture of fear and excitement.  Ulrich patted her hand, his soulful eyes conveying everything his lips could not. 

Nava unwrapped the humble decorations with shaky fingers.  Her breath caught and held when she spied a delicate gold band nestled within the paper folds.  Fighting back tears, her gaze lifted to meet his, searching for an explanation.

Ulrich sucked in a loud breath.  Color suffused the high ridges of his cheeks and he flashed a boyish smile.  “It's not much,” he explained.  “But it was the best I could do.”

“I don’t understand.”  Her words came out in a mere whisper.  “You can’t marry me.  It’s forbidden.”

“Promises aren’t.  That’s what this is, darling, a promise.  Whatever hell this is, it can’t last forever.  This is my vow that when all is said and done, we will be together.  If you will have me, that is.”

Stunned, she gripped the package tight in her trembling hands.  Words eluded her.  Forgetting all sense of propriety and care, she flung her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace.  Ulrich chuckled and pressed his face into her hair, his breath falling hot against her ear.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she exclaimed in a breathless pant.  “Yes, Ulrich.  With all my heart, yes.”

His arms wrapped around her, lifting her feet off the ground as he spun her around in a fierce embrace.  For a moment, the world and its problems faded away.  Nava threw her head back, her tinkling laughter filling the night.


**************************************

Nava shook her head and brushed a tear away with the back of her hand.  She still remembered every detail of that night.  It was the last time she saw Ulrich. 

Within that same week, the sparse remaining members of her community had been rounded up and shipped to Auschwitz.  She heard a rumor after the war that Ulrich died as a traitor, shot in the back of the head by his commanding officer when he refused to herd a group of children onto a waiting train. 

Nava trailed her fingers over the cold metal railing, trying to feel his presence.  More than thirty years had passed, but his face still haunted her dreams.  In a time filled with despair, he gave her hope.  When everything around her was falling apart, he had given her something to believe in.  The ring had been taken, dropped into a bucket along with many others at the camp, but the memory of everything it stood for remained.  It had sustained her through the worst time in her life.

No, she had never forgotten Ulrich.  Every year on this night, she walked the two miles to the bridge and stood there.  If she closed her eyes and listened, she could still hear their laughter carry on the wind.  It joined the mournful whisper in her heart, a bittersweet promise that they would be together again when her time on Earth was done. 

Some promises, once made, can never be broken.  True love, when given, never dies.


Written for:

1221635

Short Shots: Official Contest  [E] Use the photo to inspire your creativity. Write a short story and win big prizes! By: Diane

Placed 3rd in the December 2008 round.

WC~1815