Out of the Shaddows

The next morning, Cesar and Sabine sat in the small kitchen, drinking coffee and eating breakfast as if they were old friends. While weighing heavily on their minds, the events of the previous night were never mentioned. They sat in the sunny glow of morning as Sabine talked of her days in the dress shop and her plans for after the war.



“I can’t wait to tour the French country side,” she said excitedly. “It is said to be the most beautiful in all the world.”



Cesar spoke of his travels through Romania and much of Eastern Europe. He kept the stories short and the details murky, but it still felt good to talk with someone so naturally. A friend was a rare commodity.



The day passed by lazily as if the two of them were living a life of leisure. At times, Cesar would have to remind himself of what their actual relationship was. But he would choose to forget it as Sabine regaled him with stories of the different picture shows she’d seen and the books she would read to pass the time.



“Have you heard of F. Scott Fitzgerald?” She made certain to carefully word her question. Many of the Romanian Gypsies were illiterate and it would not have been surprising if Cesar could not read. As suspected, he shook his head and lowered his eyes shamefully and she felt a sudden pang of guilt. Books were a mysterious realm he had often wished he could explore. But that was simply not an option. There was no one who cared to waste their time educating a Gypsy.



Sabine smiled, trying to be reassuring. She wanted to let him know that she didn’t judge him and understood what his life must have been like. In truth, she had no idea, but seeing him without his pride hurt her deeply. She walked over to the bookshelves in the sitting room and pulled a small hardcover book from an overstuffed shelf.



“My father refused to turn over any of his books to the Germans. He would watch them burn great works of literature and he would cry. They came around collecting any books written by foreigners or Jews, some of them authors my father adored.” She sat on the sofa and opened the book tenderly as Cesar took the seat next to her. “Fitzgerald is an American author and writes about New York in ways you can only imagine. He writes of the Jazz age and the swingers and all you want to do is be part of it. My father wouldn’t give him up for the world.”



Sabine spent the afternoon reading to Cesar, the sweet, descriptive words filling the room. They escaped from the here and now into a place of freedom and excitement, where men and women could walk and talk with easy swagger. Sabine read through her favorite passages and quotes, losing herself in the words and characters that reminded her of her father. She smiled at the parts her especially loved and remembered how he would grin and smirk while reading to her. She couldn’t explain it but it was comforting to share them with Cesar.



He sat quietly with her, his eyes drifting, lost in the imagery. He thought about Suzie and wondered if this was the America she had escaped to. Where there fancy parties and elegant people? Did she sit in smoky pubs and drink martinis while discussing politics and gossip? He hoped so. It was a far better world than the one she had run from.



As Sabine read the last few chosen paragraphs, Cesar smiled in appreciation. She closed the book, warmed by the sensation that they were closer. She wanted to share more with him. She liked the thought that Cesar knew something private about her and he was still there, waiting to see what else she would offer him.



“Do you like music Cesar?” she asked as she put the book back on the shelf. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the days reading and Cesar liked how it made her seem older. The day had passed quickly and the late afternoon sun poured in through the window, warming the room.



“Very much,” he answered, his eyebrows raised in interest. “I was raised surrounded by music. I even worked in an opera house before the war. I heard some of the most beautiful music there. My people are not usually offered an opportunity to hear great opera. It was an excellent gift.”



“Then I must play you one of my favorite arias.” Sabine rose from the sofa in excitement and began to rummage through the records on the shelf below the radio. She pulled one from its sleeve and placed it on the player. The opening chords began to play and she sat next to Cesar on the sofa as a thick female voice started to sing.



When I am laid

Am laid in earth

May my wounds create

No trouble, no trouble in thy breast





The voice was heavier and the singer older but Cesar recognized the aria instantly. It was Suzie’s song. She had sung it to his family. She had shared it with them as her offering of peace. Her testimony of trust and honesty. It was the night he first believed he loved her. He closed his eyes as the song continued.



Remember me

Remember me

But, ah, forget my fate





He did remember and every thought of Suzie and his family came to his mind like a rapid river. His brothers, his cousins, his mother. He saw them all in the simple melodic line. The hurt began as a small ache in his chest and he could feel the tears slowly forming in his eyes.



“It’s by Purcell, from his opera Dido and Aeneas. There is so much emotion in such a simple melody.” Sabine saw Cesar’s eyes close and wondered if he liked what she had played for him. But soon she saw his eyelashes dampen and felt a tremor of panic run up her spine. Had she made a mistake playing this aria for him?



Cesar couldn’t take it. The hurt was too much. In that one instant he missed everyone he had lost and felt the primitive need to run. He stood up quickly and headed for the door. The record scratched behind him and the room went silent.



“Cesar, please don’t go. It’s not safe.” Sabine ran to him after turning off the record. She stood inches from his back. Her heart was in her throat and her head was a flood of confusion. She didn’t know what she should say to him but she knew she couldn’t let him leave. She wasn’t ready for him to leave. Something inside her needed him there. She needed him to stay as close to her as he was now. She suddenly felt a tremendous urge to touch him.



Cesar’s hand was on the handle of the door, his breath caught in his throat. The air was tight in his lungs and his pulse thumped inside his body. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t leave. Something was keeping him from opening the door. He could feel the heat of Sabine’s body behind him and it slowed his racing heartbeat. In the midst of sadness and fear, she was a port. He had needed someone like her and without searching, she had found him and had weakened his strength to walk away from her.



He took a deep breath and was about to turn around and explain himself when a shot rang out in the street outside their door. It shook through the house and sent a wave of terror through the fragile figures inside. They both froze, the echo lingering in the dusty afternoon sunlight. They waited and a second shot went off followed by screams. The voices of men yelling, the languages unintelligible, bounced off the walls of the houses. And when they heard the third gunshot, instinct took over. Cesar turned to Sabine and took her small body into his arms. He held her for her protection as well as his own.



Sabine’s tiny frame shook in Cesar’s arms with each blast of gunfire. He held her as solidly as his arms could and she felt without them she might have toppled over. She needed to escape from the terror outside and find something else to focus on. She held onto Cesar and thought of only him. His arms, his heartbeat, his smell, his breath. His shirt was warm against her cheek as her tears soaked through to his chest. His hands lay on her upper back and she could feel their warmth through the silk of her dress. He smelled musky but clean. But as much as she tried to fill her senses with only Cesar, she couldn’t ignore what was happening outside. She shut her eyes tightly and held Cesar around his waist as she cried.



It seemed like an eternity but soon the screams and gunfire faded into the distance. Cesar continued to hold Sabine in the tight embrace, his desire to envelop her stronger than any other need. And Sabine didn’t pull away. She lifted her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. He brought his hand to her cheek and brushed away a tear with his thumb. Her breath quickened and her lips parted as she prayed he could read her mind. She wanted him to take her away, make her forget everything. Her eyes drifted to his lips as a way to silently tell him what she wanted. And obeying fully, she watched as his mouth came closer. She closed her eyes as his lips gently brushed her own. They were soft and wanting and her body melted into his. She flung her arms around his neck and they held each other tightly, erasing their terror with passion. Sabine let out a soft moan and Cesar deepened his kiss, slipping his tongue between her parted lips. It sent tingles throughout her body and her mind began to swim without thought. She just wanted him. She wanted Cesar to fill her entire being until the pain and fear was eradicated.



Cesar could feel Sabine give herself over to him. She was so open and willing, matching his desire. Her mouth was warm and inviting as he explored it with his own. He wanted to touch every part of her and help her discover how good he could make her feel. But guilt began to build in his stomach. What would he be robbing her of if he took her and made love to her as he so desperately wanted to? She couldn’t possible want him as much as he wanted her. She had a need for someone and he would be taking advantage if he allowed her to pretend he was the one she needed. She would hate herself afterwards. And she would hate him. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t create another pained lover.



Cesar reached around his neck for Sabine’s arms and pulled her from him. It took every ounce of his strength but he broke their kiss and held Sabine away from him at an arms length. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were filled with confusion.



“I’m sorry Sabine,” he whispered. “It is wrong for me to take advantage of your kindness. Please forgive me.”



She wanted him to take her back into his arms. To kiss her and make the world disappear. Was he rejecting her? Did he not want her? She felt her confidence shatter and wished she were invisible.



“There is nothing to forgive,” she said quickly, unable to look at him. Tears began to fill her eyes and she wished he would stop looking at her. He knew she wanted him but he did not want her and the embarrassment was like a knife in her heart. All she wanted to do was vanish from the shame. She broke from his grasp and ran up the stairs, allowing the tears to freely fall down her cheeks. And Cesar, feeling even worse, watched her disappear into her room.