Wolfe Schwartz

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The lithe woman encircled the well muscled dark haired man as he sat and drank. It was the flavor that drove him to consume alcohol, not the effects. The pleasures of forgetfulness and decreased inhibitions lost to him. A record spun nearby, its low music rolling throughout the mostly empty club.

"What troubles you baby" asked the woman. Her feint New York accent permeated her words, but faintly. Wolfe contemplated whether he would answer, or ignore the affectionate lounge singer.

"You wouldn't be interested in the tales of a war vet", his own German accent sharp, clear and well defined. His words possessed a twinge of bitterness and pain.

"I've got ten minutes before I get back up there darling. Why not share a little and alleviate your spirits", her charming tone and choice of words were pulling at the Captain's sensibilities the way a good drink should.

"Alright, ten minutes", she smiled wide, and maneuvered herself into the unoccupied chair beside him.

Wolfe paused, choosing the words carefully in his mind before speaking, "So many could have died that day.  If it hadn't been for quick thinking the front would have been lost.  I leapt up and..."

The Captain had found himself unable to continue for reasons twofold.  Wolfe would reveal private information about the nature of his role during the war and the personal pain was too much to endure.  He returned to his drink and sipped the orange liquid.  It tingled and numbed only his taste buds as it raced towards his stomach.

Meredith reached out to caress the forlorn veterans cheek, "You don't have to continue honey.  When I get back on stage would you like me to sing something for you?"

"Yes... do you know We'll Meet Again", he probed?

The attractive woman nodded, smiling happily.  She would delight in lifting the spirits of this uncertain soldier, and it was reflected in her brilliant facial display.  She sauntered to the stage, lifting the needle from the nearby record player on the way.

She stopped, breath catching in her throat, "This is for all those boys that still hurt."

The singer's melody was the most beautiful Wolfe had heard in years.  Despite that, his head remained low, heart heavy with longing and emptiness.  No amount of pleasant songs or good company could wash away the terrors he endured.

He feigned a smile and applauded when she finished none the less.

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