Ein Fenster mit Blick auf den Hügel

      I managed to talk to this girl for a while, but... Shit! She wouldn't tell me her name, she acted like a bitch! Are all Italian women like that? I sighed and hurried to catch up with her, I think I had really embarrassed and upset her when I looked at the bruise. We were told that all acquaintances and connections with Italians were very undesirable, because they did not preserve their racial purity and because of the fact that Mussolini in the thirties very unflattering about the Fuhrer. Honestly, it's nonsense. Here she is walking down the street with a black purse over her shoulder. She looked as good from behind as she did from the front. I caught up with the Italian woman, a little bit ahead, but then I got in line with her. She looked at me in bewilderment.       — What do you want from me? I think we're done here.       — I want to apologize if I upset and stressed you out. It's just...I'm not very good at communicating with the female gender. I apologize again. She didn't stop, but she didn't send me away. Turning her head in my direction, she smiled. Oh, that's a smile I'll remember for the rest of my life. Her plump lips were like those of an angel!       — I'm Lorna Carbone. — She extended her hand to me. I returned her handshake, introduced myself, and the chill between us began to melt away, which I was glad about. I walked her to her place of work, where we said our goodbyes. I drove to the clearing in the grove, hurrying not to be late for the Hitler Youth training camp, and smiled like a fool the whole way. I made it in time, just a minute before the building started and we began to sing the hymn. Then came the endless series of drills, which was really wearing me down today. But once again I completed all the tasks flawlessly. In the evening, when everyone began to disperse, Bruno and another of my buddies, Adler Schultz, came up to me. His head was adorned with a thick mop of dark hair. He had studied at NAPOLA in Neuboyern, but had come here on vacation, home to his parents. My father worked in the same place as mine, but in a higher position. Schultz was known to most as a fair and smart guy of seventeen. But Bruno and I knew another quality of his, ferocity. He had a strong build, with powerful shoulders and hands that could apparently tear a thick stack of paper in half, and the look on his face suggested that he would have enjoyed the process. Not surprisingly, his favorite sport was boxing. When the three of us were fifteen-year-old teenagers we had often taken part in street fights. Adler was the toughest and most combative of us. In one scuffle he broke a kid's arm and in another he knocked out some teeth. He fought desperately and fervently, without regard for any morals or humanity. I think he would have been a better soldier in the war.       — Ralph, — Schultz's voice was husky and bassy, — will you come to dinner with us now? To that diner on Prilmaistraße? They say they have good food there. I agreed. I didn't feel like going to my father's anyway. Let him get a break from me. After taking Bruno's cigarettes, we went to the café together. It was a short walk, we had to cross two streets: Elisenstrasse and Luitpoldstrasse. It was already getting dark and cold, so we hurried up and came to an eatery called "𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦 𝐊𝐨𝐜𝐡". After standing at the entrance and finishing our cigarettes, we went inside. The room was bright, clean and tidy, where the smell of food being cooked mingled with the odor of alcohol and cigarettes. On the walls hung reproductions of paintings by great artists mixed with posters of beauties. The heads of a boar, a deer and a bear hung above the bar. Quiet music was playing. There was only one free table, and Adler hurried to take it, telling us to pick an order for him and handing over the money. Behind the counter stood a pretty blond girl of twenty, she asked what we wanted to order, and announced the price.       — A total of five Reichsmarks. Your food will be ready in twenty minutes. In the meantime you can have mulled wine, whiskey and coke. We thanked her and went to our table. Adler Schultz was staring at the other end of the room. Taking a glass of whiskey, swigging from it, he stared at someone again. Bruno was the only one of us who didn't like alcohol, he always said it was a pig's drink and he didn't understand people who drank it. I just chuckled good-naturedly. Mulled wine was just what I needed now to be happy. We started talking about all the topics we were interested in: Jews, the war, joining the Luftwaffe (Bruno's dream), the Chief of Staff of the SA (that's Adler). Sometimes you sit like that surrounded by friends, listening to music, and you forget about the war, about death, about the Third Reich, and become the most ordinary person who lives in peacetime.       — They're not from around here. — Schultz chimed in. — They don't look like the others. He nodded at the two people sitting there-a girl and a boy. I recognized Lorna instantly, and the boy must be her brother. Bruno noticed them too, smiled and shook his head.       — Wow. Turns out tonight isn't so boring, is it Ralph? Familiar strangers. Shall we say hello?       — No need, the order should be here soon. I've got my eyes down in my mulled wine glass. I don't want her to see me. Bruno Dilley grinned.       — Suit yourself, mate. Adler, shall we go? He nodded, and they rose from the table and headed toward Lorna. I saw her eyes startle, then say something, then smile. Bruno and Adler shook hands with the boy. They stood with their hands in their pockets and talked, and they were better at it than I was. I closed my eyes and started to think about the party, about the war, about the Führer...yes about anything! But I couldn't. There was a rumbling laugh - Bruno was laughing. Lorna looked right at me. She recognized me. Without saying anything, she said something, and all four of them turned toward me. I'd never felt so stupid right now. Adler waved his hand, saying, "Come here. I got up from my chair, knocked it over with a clatter, and wanted to go under. A quarter of the people in the room were staring at me, and my friends were no exception. As if in a dream, I walked toward them on woozy legs. And before anyone could say anything, I blurted out:       — Are you a supporter of the Reich Chancellor's current policy? Why did I say that? What did I want to accomplish? I made an idiot of myself in the eyes of my friends and Lorna. She looked at me fearfully and clutched her fork hard. The boy giggled, and it was only now that I glanced at him that I remembered he was going to training camp with us. What a revelation! Bruno elbowed me to stop me from talking nonsense.       — I'm staying on the neutral side. I think that's the safest thing to do right now. Okay, you've smoothed things over. Thank you so much, Lorna. That's where her brother comes in.       — I think Hitler is doing everything he can to rid the world of filth. Wow, Hitler-Jugend didn't go to waste for this kid. Lorna frowned, but didn't say anything, just looked at her brother with a strange look.       — This is Paolo, my brother. - she addressed me. I was about to say that her brother would grow up to be a real soldier, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed a girl approaching our table with a tray of smoky dishes.       — I'm sorry, but we'll have to leave now because we've been served. I grabbed Bruno and Adler under my arms and walked to our table, hearing my brother and sister talking in their own language behind me. There were three portions of food on the table, plus one shared order. The mashed potatoes with steak and peas were mine, Adler had our choice of mashed potato soup, and Bruno ordered the pea casserole with sausage. Our overall choice was the pie. Our pie turned out to be huge. The crust was very thick, the gravy was flavorful, and the plate was hot. I thought I was going to rumble with bliss.       — Ralph, what was that fly that bit you when you asked her about Hitler?! You scared her! For the umpteenth time. I didn't say anything and started eating mashed potatoes, banging my fork loudly on the plate. I wanted to make it clear that I wasn't in the mood for further conversation.       — Are you embarrassed? Our Perfect Soldier is blushing like a cancer! — Schultz laughed. I threw a napkin at him, he dodged it and almost fell off his chair. Dilley laughed the whole time, baring his straight teeth.       — It's just hot, — I said, — that's all. We said goodbye at the entrance and went our separate ways. I decided to walk home. I looked at the pink clouds that floated slowly in the wind, driven by the wind-a good sign. Tomorrow would be warm. In some places the stars were already shining, so distant and unknown. As I passed through a working-class neighborhood, I saw a black car in front of one of the houses and some Gestapo men standing beside it. I had nothing to fear from them, but still...There were many different ominous rumors about the secret police, some of them said that they would not hesitate to kill a German, that it was the Last Judgment. I had little faith in the last version. Somewhere on the upper floors I heard a woman's scream and the sound of breaking dishes. I hurried to get the hell out of here. Once I was a safe distance away, I exhaled. Sweat was running down my face, and I brushed it away with my hand. One hundred percent that woman was Jewish or something, but her scream still echoed in my head. I thought of Lorna and her brother. If the secret police came to them, would they be as brutal as they were to the Jews? No. Fascist Italy was our ally, and the gratuitous arrest or shooting of civilians of a country could be punished severely, even if ties to Italians were frowned upon. I came home at half past ten. Father was sitting at the table cleaning his boot.       — Hello, Ralph. You're a little late today.       — I had dinner at the diner with my friends, so I was late. — I decided not to tell him about my meeting with the Gestapo. He looked at me with his shrewd gray eyes and tossed me a shoe brush. I silently joined him.       — You brush like a girl. Waltz says so. I smiled.       — And Uncle Waltz always told me I shined boots like you. Now he was chuckling too. Then, after cleaning our boots, we began to play checkers. I gave my father two wins. But I think he cheated in some round.       — Me? Cheat? No way! For Gunter Stelmacher to lie?       — All right, all right. Forget it. Shall we continue? After playing for about an hour, I went to my room and collapsed on my bed. My mind went back to the day I first saw a beautiful Italian girl sitting in a café drinking cheap coffee. These memories made the blood in my veins start to flow faster and my breathing quicken. I felt my end tense up, creating a bump on my trousers. What the fuck! I tried to calm down, but the feeling wouldn't go away, on the contrary...A beautiful face and a soft smile touched her lips, her German with an Italian accent came to mind. I ran into the bathroom. With shaky hands I opened the cold water tap and splashed my face. It cheered me up a little. I placed my palms on the sink and looked at my reflection. Red as a tomato. Shit! It's only Lorna Carbone. The same Italian girl I'd seen at most three times. The same girl who looked at me like I was a moron and made my blood boil just looking at her! The same girl that Ralph Stelmacher, that is me, had a hard-on for. I stood up in the bathtub, pulling down my trousers with a jerk. I wanted to cum so badly. I ran my hand over my erect organ, imagining how fucking nice Lorna's slender fingers would look on it. I bit my lip, throwing my head back, closing my eyes and opening my mouth in a mute moan. Fuck! That feels so good! I pressed my finger against the head, speeding up. Cum. I wanted to cum immediately. I moaned into the sleeve of my shirt, continuing to thrust into my hand. The image of Lorna in the black suit, her sleek body, her stunning breasts, her brooding gaze, her plump lips was in front of me. I gripped my cock tighter with my hand, starting to move it at breakneck speed and smelling her intoxicating French perfume. The sight of her from behind was the last straw. I pushed into her palm one last time, cumming profusely and breathing heavily. My legs gave out and I nearly collapsed into the slick bathtub. The realisation that I had just jerked off in the bathtub to an Italian woman made me sick to my stomach. This was too much. There was a knock on the door.              — Son, are you in there soon? Shit, Father! I quickly put on my trousers, smoothed my hair and looked at the marks of my recent wank. I turned on the shower and instantly cleaned it of my cum. Putting on my mask of universal calm, I opened the door.       — Come in. Already lying in bed, I wondered what was happening to me. Spying, embarrassment and finally masturbating on her...was I really starting to fall in love with this Italian girl with the face of an angel? I tossed and turned all night long, unable to sleep. It was a good thing that tomorrow I didn't have to go to the meeting, and I didn't have to fall down from fatigue, aiming at a target. I had big plans for tomorrow.