Chapter 16
The flames of the fire shot upwards,
coiling into smoke that tumbled into the bluish black sky above. Christian sat
on a log close to the fire that reflected in his glazed over gray eyes. Satine
approached him out of breath after just helping a wounded soldier. She sat
close to him on the log and stared into the flames.
“Christian,” she simply whispered,
leaning her head on his shoulder. He put his dirt-covered hand on hers that was
just as filthy and sitting folded in her lap.
“Why is this happening to us, Satine?”
“Oh…I know this war has had such a
horrible effect on all of us-” she began softly.
“No…us - You and I.
We didn’t deserve to leave our child…for this. God, our baby…is at home without
her parents to hold her or-or sing to her when she can’t sleep,” Christian
spoke, his voice quivering. He grasped onto Satine’s hands as if he would never
let go.
“I know, darling…” Satine replied, her
tears glistening in the flames.
There came a shout from the other side
of the campground for Satine’s help.
“Oh…Christian, I have to go-”
“No…no,” Christian stood up with
Satine and tried to look into her eyes. He suddenly felt a wave of familiarity.
“…It’ll be alright…I promise,” Satine
whispered onto his lips.
They both stood still and quiet,
realizing when this had happened before in their lives. Satine remembered the
exact moment, the feelings running through her for Christian - Those feeling
never left her.
“Come…what…may…” she softly sang into
his ear, brushing her cheek over his.
“God…” Christian whimpered, feeling so
many things at once. “Come what may…” he replied finally.
“Christian…I need to tell you
something,” Satine spoke softly with something in her voice that Christian was
afraid of.
“Wh-what is it?” he replied, holding tightly onto her cold
hands.
Satine sighed.
“Thomas Hathaway…he’s dead.”
The cold wind blew and the fallen
embers from the fire were swept up into the night sky.
“Dead…” Christian repeated, letting
Satine’s hands slide from his.
“Chris-”
“I have to go,” he rushed out, turning
away from Satine and walking briskly back to his tent. Christian didn’t see
Satine for the rest of the evening.
************
That
night in his cot, Christian coughed and started to turn over to his other side
when he winced, remembering where he had been injured that day. He sighed and
laid himself onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Christian?”
a small whisper came through the tent walls. Christian rubbed his forehead and
considered not answering; he had another long day ahead of him.
“C-Christian…are you asleep?”
“Not
anymore,” he spoke, his voice scratchy.
The
tent flapped open quietly and Satine crept over to Christian’s bed and sat on
the edge of it. He rolled over to his other side so facing his back towards
Satine, despite his injuries. She waited a moment and hesitantly placed a soft
hand on the worn rough skin of his forearm. Christian flinched a little, but
soon relaxed and closed his eyes. She ran her hand up his arm and under his
sleeve, caressing her thumb over his shoulder beneath the torn cotton white
shirt.
Christian
sighed again, opening his eyes and for some reason he did not know, moving
farther towards the wall and away from Satine. Her hand lingered by his skin
for a moment until she withdrew. Her eyes brimmed with
tears of longing, of bottled up desire, of frustration, of questions she
couldn’t bear to leave un-answered.
“Please…”
Satine pleaded. “I know what a terrible day this has been and I want you to
know that what happened to Thomas is in the past…and you’re my future. Alright?”
She
lowered her head to rest on his shoulder, and as soon as she touched her cheek
to the cotton fabric of his shirt, he flinched again and finally rolled over on
to his back.
“Satine…I-”
“What?”
she whispered, hovering over his lips.
“I need
sleep. I’m sorry.”
Satine
stared into his eyes, begging him to quench her fiery passion.
“Goodnight,”
he spoke in an uncomfortable way, turning once again to the wall and closing
his eyes.
Satine
remained on his bed, her mouth agape, in shock. When she blinked and let a tear
fall, she stood and made her way slowly to the tent opening. Satine turned
around as she reached the cold night air and spoke so she could barely hear her
own voice.
“Goodnight
Christian. If that’s even who you are.”
“Chocolat…Chocolat,
come in here a moment!” Satie called from the living room, not taking his eyes
off of Sara. He smiled at the little girl grasping onto the low window frame
looking out onto the beautiful hillside.
“What
is it, I was just starting dinn-…oh, Satie,” Chocolat
stopped walking as he reached the entry into the living room, seeing Sara
clench her tiny hands around the wooden frame and stare hopefully outside.
A
high-pitched whine squeaked out of Sara, and Satie wrapped one of her shining
brown curls around his finger.
“What’s
the matter, little angel?” he whispered as Chocolat sat down on the other side
of Sara. The same noise came out of Sara again and her lower lip quivered just
the smallest bit as her eyes widened looking out the window into the world.
“Do you
miss your mama, baby?” Chocolat spoke gently, smiling sadly at Satie while
speaking to Sara.
“Mmm…” Sara moaned softly, sighing.
Chocolat
and Satie both reached to pick her up simultaneously, and paused when Sara
moved even closer to the window, leaning her forehead against its clear glass
surface.
“Sara,
baby…don’t you worry,” Satie comforted, picking her up slowly and rocking her
back and forth. “Soon, your daddy and your mama will come home and you’ll be
the happiest little girl in all the world…”
Chocolat
began to stand up, but stood still with his knees bent and held up his hand to
silence Satie for a brief moment.
“Shh…”
Chocolat closed his eyes and listened carefully to a noise he heard outside.
“…We have to go downstairs, Satie.”
“Why…wha-”
“We
have to go now,” Chocolat spoke calmly, staring directly into Satie’s eyes. “I heard a grenade in the distance.”