Caraliza (10 page)

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Authors: Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick

BOOK: Caraliza
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The glow of the image was soft and warm in the candlelight, and he was moved to tears at the sight of his Caraliza in the sunbeam. A paper printed with this plate would be something to behold. But it could not be done without some other tools in the closet. They would let it be their gift for the next morning.

 

The afternoon shop window was covered again, by a wagon loading on the street. It was a blessing. Yousep was not tempted to see if the man sat yet on the stoop, watching the street. Knowing he might be there, seemed as terrible as having the man at his elbow.
Caraliza sat on the divan, with his head in her lap, and she played with his buttons again; their small noon meal was shared, and he was trying to coax her to nap for a bit - she had been complaining with gestures, she had a terrible headache. It must have been the result of the sudden activity; she was only seven, perhaps eight days now from the horrible fall. He had pointed to her ears and her bruised brow with the question, that morning, up the stair.
She answered,
“ik
viel hard op de grond…”
I fell hard to the ground, “…met zijn lichaam boven op me.” beneath his body.

 

She refused to sleep, and loved the game he played, he snored gently at her and she would laugh. Still, she yawned at last and he spied her at it, and put his finger to her nose to be stern. She pouted, nipped his finger and lay down for him, beckoning him to lie with her. He smiled and kissed her eyes, and her cheeks, and told her he could not stay, then returned to his work.
When he looked, just moments later, into the studio again, she was asleep and he was relieved.

 

His mother and father soon appeared in the door, they brought a simple dinner, more good things for the girl, and some sweets, fresh made that morning; a treat she surely missed. He was compelled with longing to embrace them both. It was good that she rested; a sleeping girl looked more the desperate waif than the amorous girl who could not be but a breath away from her Yousep.
Begging them to forgive what he had done, he explained the work of the morning, and told them the tale of words. They were moved, as Papa suspected, to great compassion. His father was moved also to anger that such a kidnap could be done, with only the darkness of the stair to keep prying eyes away. Had the authorities not searched the hole, after the absence of the urchin? Why she was not discovered then? His questions were not answered.

 

Yousep’s mother slipped quietly into the studio, and sat appraising the girl on the divan. It was warm and there was no blanket needed, the bruised flesh and the delicate face brought tears to his mother’s eyes. She sat near Caraliza while the men talked and planned.
Yousep would remain this one night more only. The authorities would be called and under their protection, she would be moved to the Kogen home. Yousep would be satisfied; she would be protected. The brute would not know where she was taken. They still feared some reprisal at the shop; the police would be at hand if needed.
She awoke but an hour after they arrived, the vision before her took her breath.
“
Mama?”

 

Yousep’s mother was unknown to her, but for a simple daydream, that his mother must be kind. Caraliza tried to move, to reach out, but
her breath escaped in a small sob that grew until she was in shudders. The men heard the small cry and found the mother and the child in each other’s arms; the child wracked with a longing and grief that was wide as the ocean she had been pulled across. It was more than Yousep could bear, he could not watch, but he heard as his Caraliza poured her anguish from her tortured heart. His heart would make that sound, at the thought he might lose her somehow.
This embrace did not console her; it could never be so long as needed. She had not been held in motherly arms for too long, and she wept bitterly for the loss. Yousep’s mother could not release Caraliza from the embrace either, and was in love as well, her heart broken the child might have perished, if not for her son.

 

“
In which shop did you find this book that brought her speech to life?” his father asked him after reading their work in the notebook. Yousep explained where it could be found, and his father vowed to take the price to the seller and thank him for the loan of it. He would only tell the man it indeed saved a life, but would not venture further to say how, until Yousep could safely take his Caraliza there. They said their promises, she would be rescued to their home, and her tears dried at last.

 

His parents were gone and the afternoon was following them; the sunlight would be leaving the studio. Yousep helped Papa close the shop and make the doors locked for the night, and thanked him with a warm handshake. The visit stirred such a burden of fear, Yousep secretly vowed to keep watch the entire night. He returned to Caraliza and they set their meal on the floor, in a golden glow of evening light, and they were alone again.
Yousep fed her tender bites, she fed him barely enough to put to his lips, and she would laugh at his frown. His angel spoke to him constantly through the meal, in a soft musical voice that tugged at his breast. It seemed she did not mind he could not understand, or else she wanted so much to say she could not stop. The music in her voice was beautiful to hear, and no question, or reply was necessary. Yousep supposed the visit from his mother had stirred the longings in her hungry heart, and she was simply pouring them out to him, as they fed each other small bites.
How lonely she must have been, no warmth or soft touch, from anyone for two years; it broke his heart anew, and she softly chattered, on and on through the meal. She caught his gaze for just a brief moment; noticed he was not eating, only watching her face and smiling. Caraliza paused to lean very close, brushed his mouth with hers, very lightly, and said his name several times as their lips touched. The sensation was unlike any he ever felt. She held her lips so close they nearly kissed, but she instead shared his breath and passed his name to his mouth in soft whispers.

 

She awakened from her noon sleep, into a shock of emotion that seemed to have taken all of the strength from her again. As they ate their meal and drank the cool water, she grew quieter; she was falling asleep, and could not stop it. She was cross she could not keep wakeful to play with him, and hear him laugh. He helped her to the divan they would share as their bed, and before he put away the cloth from the floor, she was undressed and reaching for him. He asked if she desired the bath, questioning with his eyes and soft strokes of his fingers to her legs. She shook her head and held her arms open to him again; she only wanted sleep, and him to lie warm against her.
He removed his clothes and lay down, more aware of her softness than before. As he moved gently beside her, she kissed him and tasted his mouth with her tongue. She raised herself just enough that he could move his arm around behind her back to cradle her more intimately. She buried her cheek against his shoulder and pulled him as close as she might with her leg and seemed instantly asleep.

 

Yousep lay listening to every sound in the street, until there were no sounds to be heard but her breathing upon his skin. She did not sleep restlessly, but was not still either. After a bit she would move until her hands found a hold that comforted them. Twice she spoke his name. It was quite dark in the studio and the shop was very still when she stirred beside him, and kissed his neck. He stroked her hair, to tell her she was safe in his arms, when she moved with more purpose against him. Her hands were playing the game they played in the storeroom that morning, only there was nothing to prevent them finding the part of him they sought. He was her prisoner, and his own; he would yield this time because he simply could not resist. As she moved and spoke his name, he learned what desire she had of him, and how strongly it could possess him as well.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

Yousep awoke hours before dawn. There was a sound in the alley that was not intended to be heard. Someone was testing the windows, one by one, as they came further to the back of the building. Rousing his Caraliza, with first a kiss, then his movement, he urged her to be very quiet, and to follow him quickly as she could. He was completely awake; his fear drove the clouds of sleep instantly out of his head. She was slower to become alert, and they took longer than he wished to get to the stairs that would take them up to the storeroom.
The only room inside the building where there remained a lock; Yousep was thankful it would be of use from inside, where he wanted them to be. They made the climb as quietly as they could, she, wrapped in their blanket, and he, carrying their gathered clothes. He counted the items in his head as they made the stair, it would prove their undoing, to have clothing left behind where they slept. She held her treasured pendant; it seemed he caught all clues they were there at all.

 

Not waiting for any hint he was in error, and they might still be safe, Yousep locked them into the room and sought the darkest corner, behind some large boxes. There they made a nest inside the blanket, and there he held his terrified Caraliza; they waited to be discovered, and prayed earnestly they would not. She could not hold him closely enough, and her tears were wetting his neck.

 

He soothed her with gentle caresses, which otherwise would have inflamed her desire for him again, but for the horrible dread of whom might seek them so quietly in the dark of the night. Yousep strained his ears and still heard nothing more than the shuddering breaths they took, as they held each other in the black corner.
But they left the picnic meal and its palette for the studio floor; those were gathered near the divan and they might appear a lump unless investigated. If indeed the lump were inspected, it would be apparent they might still be secreted somewhere inside as well. His panic at his error nearly caused him to cry out. If they were alone still, he was sure he could steal down, and recover the things which might give them away, but his love for his Caraliza kept him where he was. He would not leave her to her lonely panic.

 

Instead, his thoughts turned to which things might be used to defend them, should someone burst their door and dash in among them. He had boards enough from the shelving, but those would make a sound to retrieve. They had some glass, but that would be more helpful only if broken into knives, something that likewise could not be done, and they remain hidden. His panic was hurting his thoughts, making him confused.
Then he realized there would be chemicals, which they used in the closet for the plates and films. Some would be quite painful should they be cast into a person's face, or eyes. It was a terrifying thought; such a person who just threw the door, would be too dangerously close for chemicals alone to halt their advance; they were in peril - with nothing which seemed up to the task of giving them defenses.

 

Yousep began to pour his tears onto Caraliza's hair. Their wait was painful, and they still held each other dear, afraid to move and soothe their hurtful limbs. Yousep heard no single sound in the building at all; he prayed he was utterly wrong. She was trembling against him, shuddering with small sobs, burying her face on his neck in shame; she wet them, and the blanket, in her fear, now they would have the awful, damp cover to offend them as well. He touched her face and turned her tears to his lips, to kiss them away. She wanted his mouth, and was soon soothed enough to wait more quietly, but not in less fear.
There was a noise. Not a gentle, natural noise, as houses are want to make as they rest. This was the noise of a thing beneath them, being moved. They were justly hidden - they were being sought; only one person under heaven could have such a task to his need. If he made the stair, he would surely try the door. Caraliza was numb with terror.

 

Yousep was unsure of his emotion, the rage was so hot he supposed he might fight with some success, but his dread was making him doubt his strength; the man, who wanted Caraliza, was twice Yousep's shape. Yes, there would be a fight! They would only escape if Yousep killed the man, and the thought exploded in Yousep's heart such as no other dread had ever been felt; Yousep must murder whoever approached the door. The size of the brute would be his own enemy, should he be made to tumble backward down the flight of stair. If not damage him utterly, it would perhaps make his next charge too weak to escape a length of wood to the skull.
The thought of a crushing blow from above, and the result of it strewn on the floor below, nearly sent Yousep to vomit his food. But he understood…he could not aim to hurt - but must attack, to take the other's life, with such force as he could make.

 

The stair beneath them felt a weight, and made a sound Yousep heard every normal day. Bile was rising in his throat and Caraliza was nearly in faint from the trembling, her fingers digging his flesh until it bled. But her trembling was ceasing - her hands were loose…her head fell to his breast; he released his darling and sought her lips…but they would not kiss him.
Her faint was too deep; his embrace to severe, her breath would not come.

 

Yousep began to whimper in his despair, he shook her and squeezed her, but she would not hold him. The cry he made gave them away and he pulled her to his face to weep and beg God to stir her heart. The fear of an attack vanished, the fear he had crushed the breath from his angel broke his mind. His cry was louder than the splintering of the doorway; his grief more powerful than the pain as rough hands lifted him with his hair. He could not hold her body, he was being pulled away and his grip failing, the sound that drove him to madness was his love Caraliza, as she fell lifeless to the boards.

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