8. Lorna
May 12, 2024 at 4:25 AM
Paolo came home from school wet and chilled, but happy. He had built a model of a Bf109G fighter-bomber.
— I'll bring it over as soon as the glue dries. You don't know how many nerves I've killed on that plane! The teacher said it's one of the best. It's a pity I have models of other aeroplanes left at home, I'd make a collection....
He refused to call Münich his home, still denied that we were here for long.
— Have you made any friends here?
— SÌ! Certamente! But I still miss the old ones. Some of the guys here have a certain contempt and arrogance for newcomers like us. Last week they called me a gypsy.
I couldn't call it nice. My brother did have brownish skin. Paolo was a very vulnerable child, and it must have hurt his pride and self-esteem. Calling an Italian a gypsy? Even if we weren't very friendly here. Only a fool would do that.
— Ignore it. Just ignore it. You know you're of noble blood and all you have to do is ignore them. If you want to make a joke, just say, "Sure, Aryan rat."
My brother chuckled nervously and sat down in his chair to read "Mein Kampf". As long as I didn't talk Paolo out of it, he kept refusing, saying that this book was a treasure trove of the Führer's ideas and speculations, that it gave him the motivation to do something heroic. I just rolled my eyes and gave up trying. Let him do what he wants-he knows best. An hour later, when the clock showed half past ten, having chased the boy to bed, I sat down at my desk and began reading our Italian "Doctrine of Fascism", written by Mussolini and Giovanni Gentile, a former senator of the Italian Republic. I compared the Führer's book and the Dýche. Basically, the works held the same political and social ideas. Both believed that socialism was a weakness. Except that in Mein Kampf" much attention was paid to National Socialism. After a while I got bored of comparing these books, and I remembered how Ralph Stelmacherer and I were dancing in a café yesterday. He had touched me so gingerly, as if I were a fragile and delicate creature that could fall apart at any moment. And his eyes spoke volumes. I was beginning to fall in love with this German young man. It was such a light, pure feeling, which made me feel light and warm. This dance became for me the best memory in my life. With such happy thoughts, which made me want to smile, I went to bed and fell asleep.
The next day, when my employer at the atelier gave me the day off, I decided to clean the house. Paolo had gone on a tour of Berlin with his age group and was due back in two days. He was really hoping to see the Reich Chancellery building, the Reichspresidential Palace, the Reich Ministry of Aviation, Göring and Adolf Hitler himself. As Paolo used to say: "I didn't get to see duce in my homeland, so let me have the opportunity to see the first man of the Reichstag here". I wished that it would work out for him.
I switched on the first radio station I could find and started cleaning the window, opening it beforehand. In the distance I could see a cloud hanging grey over the hill, and the nearest houses were already illuminated by the soft golden rays of the sun. I wet a rag and began to rub the glass, almost dropping it when I looked down.
Ralph's smug and mischievous smile was the first thing that caught my eye. He was standing in his familiar Hitler-Jugend uniform, holding his bicycle.
— Hi, Lorna! You look terrible! — When he saw my displeased face, he laughed and raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture, — Okay, okay, just kidding!
That didn't save Ralph. A wet rag flew into his smiling face, but he dodged it. He shouted: "Why?" and laughed, and I laughed with him.
— The weather is warm today, wanna go to the hill?
I blushed a little.
— Have to see!
With those words, I hid in the window, closed it, threw off my home clothes, and put on a mid-length cotton dress in sky-blue check with short lantern sleeves. Hastily brushing my hair and slinging my purse on my shoulder, I stepped out onto the landing and walked downstairs to Ralph. He was standing at the archway, with his back against the wall, smoking a cigarette. When he saw me, Ralph straightened up and passed me an appraising glance.
— Does it mean "yes"?
I nodded. He suggested a bike ride to pass the time. Sitting on the rack, I put my arm around his warm, strong body to hold on to. We rode through the city: past Königsplatz, where the Führerbau, over the bridge over the Isar River, through working-class and aristocratic neighbourhoods.
The streets were not yet completely dry and there were puddles on the pavements. People scurried back and forth, going about their business, cars travelling on the roads. The city was bustling with life.
It took us about thirty minutes to get to the hill. Then we had to climb up this green hulk, no longer hidden under a cloud, but illuminated by the rays of the sun. The slope was not so steep and it was not difficult to climb the hill, but because of the height we sometimes paused. As the grass was still wet, Ralph put a specially taken plaid on the ground. Once during the pass a red fox's fur flashed in the bushes, then a sharp face with a black nose appeared. It was the first time I saw a fox so close. The animal spotted us and ran away, rustling the grass and leaves. We continued our way to the top, talking about different topics. And finally we came to the place. And the first thing that caught my eye was the small city of Munich lying below, surrounded by green trees. It was completely visible: the tiny square, the miniature houses that looked so much like toy houses, and the thin stream of the Isar River. It was a grandiose and magnificent panorama. The view made me want to just put my hands to my heart and stare and stare...The blue sky seemed so close, yet so far away. I wish I had a camera. A tear rolled down my cheek. I was in awe of God's creation.
— I knew you wouldn't be indifferent. - said Ralph.
— Do you come here often?
— Once a fortnight, definitely. This place brings peace to my soul. I come here to shut myself off from the world, to be alone with my thoughts and just to relax. Here I feel calm and sometimes wonder what people are doing downstairs at the moment. After all the possible options listed above, it all comes down to one thing–they live. That's the main thing.
We sat down on the blanket and stared at Munich in silence. I kept thinking how huge the world was, and how small a person was, how small he was in comparison. I closed my eyes, exposing my face to the light. Through the blissful sensations, I felt Ralph's fingers weightlessly touch my hand. A throng of pleasant goosebumps ran through my body, and I shuddered faintly, which didn't go unnoticed by the guy sitting next to me. I opened my eyes. He was sitting close to me, staring into my eyes. Too close. There was a bright light shining in his grey eyes. My heart beat faster and my breathing quickened. His hand gently squeezed mine, and Ralph brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. I flared to the very tips of my ears. My mind screamed for me to pull away, to stop this, but my heart begged for more. So I listened to the last one. Still not removing my hand from his chest, I moved in close to the young man sitting across from me. We both wanted this. Right now. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me, and lightly brushed my lips against his, as if asking if he wanted to continue this. In response, Ralph wrapped his arms around my waist and deepened our kiss, entwining our tongues and spreading fire throughout my body. Shy at first, the kiss was now hotter, more passionate, his hands stroking my hair, gently tracing the curves of my body that the dress concealed, his lips on my neck, sucking on my skin. I could read in those touches all the feelings Ralph had for me. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to the grass, pulling him underneath me. We didn't stop kissing, as if we were each thirsty. He touched my breasts and looked at me with a hazy look of desire, then slid my leg over his thigh. I moaned softly into his mouth, surrendering to the pleasurable caress. I wanted more and reached for the buttons of his shirt, but suddenly I saw the eagle-eyed face of the officer who had come to my house the night before and brutally raped me. His lustful hands and cock were still in my dreams at night, and I would wake up in a sweat.
I think Ralph noticed that I had gone pale. He pulled away from me and sat up. His face was red, his eyes shining brightly, his hair dishevelled, his chest heaving.
— Lorna, — he wheezed, — I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...but I couldn't beat it. I...I like you. A lot.
I was still lying there, but after those words, everything inside me trembled. I stood up, took his face in my palms, laid back down again, and kissed Ralph softly.
— I understood.
We lay snuggled on the blanket, heated from the caresses, and talked.
— There must be a quiet place far away from the war. — I played with his black necktie around my neck. — That's where I'm going to live with Paolo. I'm tired of war, of endless persecution and denunciations. Fascism and Nazism is what destroys the best in man, makes him a slave to the system. Do you think, Ralph, you and I can go far away from here?
— I don't know. Honestly, I don't know. I wish I could, but I'm a future soldier. I could be transferred to the army at any time. If I run away, I can't live without thinking about my dad and my country all the time, you know? I think so. You're familiar with it. I'm--I'm scared. The best thing to do in this situation is to surrender to fate.
— It has its plans for you. Maybe it wants you dead and you want to live. You don't have to obey it. Don't just leave it to chance. Change your destiny, change its course. Challenge it.
— I'll do my best.
With these words he lit a cigarette, staring pensively at the sky. His hand was on my stomach, stroking it. I propped myself up on my elbows and leaned over him. A strand of my black hair fell across Ralph's face. Our lips met again in a tender kiss. It was as if we couldn't get enough of each other.
Before Ralph in Naples a year earlier, I'd had a relationship with an aspiring writer. He was a damn good lover. But for some reason, after two months of dating, moonlighting and great sex, we broke up. Maybe we weren't on the same page.
Ralph was different. Very different. I was captivated by him. I was fascinated by his stern and sharp facial features, typical of a true Aryan. He stirred something inside me, rekindled a fire that I thought had been extinguished long ago. We suited each other–his bossy temper and my soft one.
When it was close to curfew, Ralph drove me home.
— I didn't even finish cleaning because of you! — I muttered jokingly.
— I think, — he whispered, — today's trip was worth all the cleaning.
He put his palm on my cheek and kissed me. Sensitively. Gently. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I kissed him back. So we stood at the archway kissing until the light came on in the window a floor above.
— See you, Lorna!
— Spero, che il mio fantastico tedesco.
I stood for a long time at the archway and looked where Ralph's bicycle had disappeared. I felt light and happy.
