Caraliza by Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick Read Free Book Online

were running out of time, the brute would finish his current employment in just a few days. Soon, it would be very dangerous for them both, to dance such a dance, at such a loving distance.
     
    Constant, dirty, heavy work, tires even the largest of men, after several days of it. Barely able to stay awake to eat his dinner, the brute left Caraliza completely alone the entire week. He was hardly more generous with any food, but just a bit less attentive at his plate than usual. She snuck a bit of sausage or potato nearly every night.
     
    Coming home to the basement, so late each evening, meant it was very late before any food was cooked. Yet, he said nothing to her about it. She could do no less than wait, and he was satisfied she was too frightened to do aught but wait. He would finish what he could stay awake to eat, she could have the rest, and he did not care. He wanted his bed.
    She was thankful of the weariness he brought home, but he could surely use a bath; he reeked, and it made it difficult for her to sleep. She could not do without sleep. She worked harder each day, to afford so much time seeking a smile from the shop window. If she fell behind cleaning, there would be worse for her. The brute roused himself to more brutality than she dared remember, by much less than a poorly mopped floor. She did better than she could, so she could see the boy from the shop, just one time more each day.
    The next morning it was cloudy, she was terrified it might rain and the brute come thundering back in a rage. Luckily, the clouds melted away and it was time to meet her fellow at the curb. She opened the door gently and looked out to find his smile right at the top. Yousep just stood there for a moment, then spoke.
     
    It happened so suddenly it frightened her.
    “ Good morning. I’m Yousep,” he said, extending his hand very slightly. She must have been more surprised than she realized, his next words were a question; that much she could tell.
    “ Are you all right?” He took a precious step closer, concern on his face.
    She put up her hand to stop him coming down, and merely stood in the shadow. She did not lose his gaze; she held his eyes, as she desired to hold his hands, refusing to let go, should once they ever touch. He paused and did not move, but he needed to turn and cross. She needed to let him cross. So she took one step up higher to see him, and smiled a very small smile for him.
    “ Ik spreek geen Engels,” she said softly.
     
    She could hardly make the words. She did not know how long it had been she had no one to speak with, she said nothing to another person, for more than a year. Her smile faded as she saw something change in his eyes. There was something fearful there, similar to the first look she had seen on his face; the look that first drew her to see him again. He stood more directly up, and his hand dropped to his side. She instantly imagined he was unhappy, would lose his interest in her now, yet, as she watched him a second longer, understanding crossed his eyes and his mouth fell open, but he did not speak.
    Yousep turned, just enough to make her fearful again, however, his smile came back and he puckered his lips to whistle his way across the street. Halfway across to his shop, his voice came back to her, such an extravagant risk to be taking. He spoke loudly enough she could hear, before he moved too far away, though she did not understand.
    “ You do not speak English. Oh my!”
     
    Yousep trusted there was a solution to that problem, he just had not thought of it yet. He made sure to be in the window as often as he could, they were able to assure one another that smiling needed no translations. However, another predicament arose which he did not think he could solve quickly enough, how to make her understand, he would be needed in the back of the shop, nearly all day, very soon.
    Papa Reisman had taken his window idea, and turned it into a desperate project he was near mad to have