Good luck homing pigeon

Chapter fifteen: Trust whom you love or love whom you trust? (14th February)

Hello everyone, nearly half way through the story now! The song above is purple rain, sung by a New Zealand artist Stan Walker.  The dates above, which will be shown in future chapters later on, are so you, the readers, can keep up with the timeline. I had a hard enough time keeping up with it myself :P Anyhow, enjoy the chapter and to those getting back into uni, happy studies!

A week had passed since that dreamy, surreal night in the tin-shed. I hadn't been able to see Angelo since then, due to the obvious obstacle that kept us apart-Birkenau's gates. The block leader had no more deliveries to be done until the next Flock meeting. Tonight. I'll admit of course, I was a little nervous about facing him-after what happened the last time we were together. Would he understand the difficulty of our position and remain discrete? Would he want to kiss me again, in front of everybody? Or, the most painful of all, would he not want anything more than what we already were? I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. It wasn't something we'd planned, something we'd talked about or really wanted-it just happened. But then, that was the special part about it, wasn't it? The fact that magical things can happen, in times and places where you'd least expect it.

However, it was frustrating, not being able to tell anybody about the kiss. If it'd happened back in Paris, the first person I'd run to with the news was Briana. I'd go to her room; a place that offered privacy, and a certain, sisterly solace. There, she'd invite me to sit down on her divan where she'd join me, with an arm about my shoulders, and squeal for me to tell her everything. There I could admit how surprising it was-yet, tender. And sweet and exciting and utterly explosive. And if it wasn't Briana I could confide it, it'd be Sandrine. At school, in some place where nobody could eavesdrop on us, I'd whisper to her that Angelo Schneider, the boy who caused every kind of trouble known to man, had given me my first kiss. We'd giggle like gooses at the revelation at first! But after we'd calm down, we'd ask each other all sorts of questions. How long was my kiss? How did her first kiss feel? And how handsome our chosen boys were. But I couldn't tell Sandrine. I couldn't even tell Antonia that not only was her son alive, I was falling for him. Fast and deep.

Speaking of Antonia, I was really beginning to worry about her. Alina too. Lately, I couldn't help but notice how much slower she'd been; first it began with just getting up in the mornings. Just a little slower, a little warier than usual. And then it was work. Her job was to fill the labelled jars with different kinds of tooth fillings. Gold, silver, and cement. In a job where you had to be quick and precise under pressure, she was barely scraping through without making mistakes. And Alina wasn't trailing very far behind her either; she was skinny when she got here, and during her stay she only grew skinnier. I had to do something for them too. If I wanted to save myself, as well as those I called family, I would have to find a way to urge The Flock to begin this trial basis as soon as possible. If I could just get them some fresh water at least, maybe it would help. It wouldn't turn them back into the healthy creatures they once were, but it would help at least.

And Briana? Well, she was still with her soldier boyfriend. What else could I expect? She'd always fantasized about having some sort of forbidden lover. Who better than one of the men responsible for our suffering? Oh, I knew I was still bitter about it! But as long as she was cavorting with the enemy, I could never fully approve. It was wrong. Not just whom she was seeing, but how he was influencing her morals.

I could worry about everyone else as much as I wanted to, but in the end it would never fully stop me from thinking of him.  What had compelled him to kiss me, at that very moment? Was it the teasing flirtation, or had I looked particularly pretty at that time? Oh, I couldn't be because of that. Birkenau ravaged beauty-it didn't restore it. Maybe...maybe he'd been wanting to do it for quite some time. Before Birkenau, and Drancy. We had been notably closer, the days before my birthday party. It seemed the more time Angelo spent at our house, particularly in my room, the more mama and even Briana had gotten used to his constant prescience. Not that he hadn't always been around! Just this time, it was the two of us. Alone. Had he wanted me then? Did he really want me now? Oh, I knew I sounded so insecure! But this was my first taste of romance. Something so queer and innocent, it needed to be treaded delicately. Did any other girl my age know how it felt to have your first taste of romance in a concentration camp? I imagine there was a few out there, somewhere. But I couldn't talk to them. I couldn't talk about how good his kiss felt, and have the others relate their experiences and compare them to each others.