“
But -” Yousep stammered in reply, “-we are at greater risk if we are forced to deal with this in other than secret. They must be so ashamed, I do not know another way.”
They were speaking in hurried whispers in the doorway to the studio. Caraliza was sleeping peacefully, still on the divan, one arm seeming to reach to find her Yousep.
“
Worry not. They indeed are greatly troubled, but seemed moved to understanding. I told them this child was near certain death, and but for your care, she would be a ghost. Your mother wishes you to bring this creature home, as you can, sooner than later. She will know better the state this child is in. As to how you are caring for this one…I refuse to know!”
“
I am sorry you are at such need because of me and my actions, Mr. Reisman. Forgive me, but this became more than two young people could manage by their own plans. We suspected we had time for a safer solution. We neither one guessed such a horrid event.”
“
I cannot fault your judgment; you knew the danger well and were able to bring her some hope for many weeks. But, time we no longer have. The brute across the street is even now with the authorities at his stair! They are dealing harshly with him, likely as usual for a brawl or an assault they suspect he performed. But as I saw them and their wagon, it brought great fear to me that we are doomed if he reports this child missing!”
“
How could that be done? As you can see - what he has done to her!” Yousep was seething that the beast could claim she had been taken from
his
care, kidnapped from the safety of
his
home.
“
We must be urgent to get her well, that we may make our report first, Yousep! If he makes a claim and the authorities agree, and then battered or no, without her own word of accusation, he may get her back!”
“
I will not allow her to go back!”
Yousep the man was protecting his dearest love and Papa could see it clearly as the color of his flashing eyes. Strange that love should grow, where nothing more than glances and smiles seeded it, Papa strained to understand it. Except for the help of God and the courage of the angry young man before him, Papa Reisman understood very well; Caraliza would have been killed.
The old man brought and offered Yousep a breakfast of four fresh boiled eggs, some light bread, and a cup of cool milk to drink. He also brought lunch, much the same for her again, but some meat and cheese for Yousep; it looked too meager to the young man and his eyes showed it.
“
We must feed only her body, not her hunger. I have seen such starvation, and much more of it, she would have consumed herself and withered. We could do her great harm with too much food, too great for her to use. We will see that she has some small things at hand, but will never let her gorge. By doing this she will regain her strength very quickly. It surely will be more than she has known for so long a time, to be able to eat a little twice a day. Yousep, she will be fine!” he urged the young man to understand. “And as a gift, a dress from your mother. The smallest she owned and with a little belt. I refuse to know what you have seen, but I will not see her naked in my presence. I am much too old for the blessing of it.”
Yousep laughed, and it cooled his anger. He looked sadly to his Caraliza on the divan and prayed she would strengthen quickly. They would be neither safe, nor happy, until she could be removed from the shop. Her tormentor was only paces away.
The brute would sit on the stoop, vacated by the street urchins a month before, after the loss of their lad. The police were still suspicious and were on the street, seemingly every hour. For a monster who may have killed once, and nearly did kill Caraliza, Yousep thought the man possessed some sort of demon spirit, to sit so calmly, as though he were enjoying the pleasant air. She was made to understand; she could be seen if she ever approached the door, or the shop window. She must also not tarry in front of the new studio windows in the afternoon. They were too brightly lit, the room too easily seen from the garden.
She did understand his caution, and was the next day timidly walking and smiling about with his arm; she would not be parted from him, taking the care they desired. She surprised Yousep that she could make a single boiled egg last to her lips as long as a large meal.
“
Ik hou van eieren!”
I love eggs
! She would smile. The two eggs would barely be consumed before lunchtime arrived.
Papa could not tempt her to talk; she seemed shy of him, the only form of self-awareness or modesty she could show. She dearly loved the dress Yousep gave to her.
“
Dank je, Dank je!”
It made her weep to put it on the first time, but she would cause it to fall to the floor with her giggles, seemingly at his slightest touch, when they were alone. She would follow him into every corner of the shop, save the ones in the front. He found her troublesome the most when he was at need of the toilet closet, and the very few times she needed it, she loved to pull him inside and kiss his hands while she wet the basin.
“
Mag ik je kussen?” May I kiss you?
She would whisper.
He tried in vain to get her to understand, he should not be so near at that time, and when it must have finally driven him to some shame Papa took his shoulder, and spoke gently in his ear.
“
She has all modesty beaten from her. To survive, she has become a child. Her life was simple, obey or be beaten. She is not at fault, be gentle with her and remain a gentleman. Modesty will return in its time.”
Yousep smiled a weary smile. He no longer was certain when he was doing the wrong things, for just reasons, and it confused him, and made him shy to admit it to Mr. Reisman.
“
Have you seen the chain she wears?” Yousep whispered.
“
I have seen it. Is it precious to her?
“
It is but my name on a tin pendant. I would that I could have one with her name, but cannot go get it now.”
“
Would you like me to get one for you, Yousep?” the old man smiled at him and put his arm around Yousep’s shoulders.
“
Yes, she would be so pleased. It is a promise between us, made solid to hold. Here is her name written. I found it, in the shop two doors from the grocer who ordered the perfect rose bushes.”
“
I will bring it tomorrow and you can have it for her.” Papa smiled.
In the darkroom closet, she was his shadow, but for her arms around him and her cheek against his back, she seemed merely a spirit, that he barely felt. He might be in there an hour at his tasks, and she would be gently behind him, holding him, closely as she could and still let him move.
“
Houd me vast. Bescherm me.” Hold me. Protect me.
Those were cherished moments for her, when they were alone in the darkness and she could hold him, until his heartbeat felt to be inside with her own. That evening, when they were at last alone again, she brought the basin of warm water and lay on the divan, asking him to wash her.
“
Wil je me nog een keertje wassen? Het is zo fijn.”
Wash me again please? It is so nice.
If she desired him for other than safety, and warmth at night, she could never tempt it from him, for soon as they were embraced under the blankets she would be fast asleep. The second night, Yousep was urgently aware - she aroused him. He lay awake for most of the night enjoying the sensation of having her against his skin.
She grew in strength each time she could hold him as much as she desired. Otherwise, in the shop she was a joy. Still too shy to speak to Papa Reisman, she chattered in ceaseless whispers to Yousep.
“
Wat houd je daar vast?” You are holding what?
Always touching him in some small way or holding his hands so he could barely work, she was every moment a pleasure to have near. Her speech was Dutch, Papa was sure of it. He knew none himself other than some borrowed German. None of it applied to conversations that needed to take place, as in, ‘were you always beaten by that man?’
Yousep was cautioned the next day, the story must be learned from her, and it must be translated from the book. They could not let any more time pass before they were ready to seek her release from the man’s claim. They would be given time alone, in the storeroom upstairs, to work as long as they needed.
The next morning, he gave her another present, which sent shivers and gooseflesh over her body, Yousep washed her hair with a fragrant soap, and combed it dry as she kissed his shoulder. Papa could not enter the studio, she refused the dress, afraid to get it wet; she giggled as Yousep tried repeatedly to cover her with the towel. At their appointed task that morning, she lay with her head in his lap, and they sat in the single storeroom window, high up in the building, facing only a brick wall. The redness of the bricks in the morning sun made the room glow warmly.
She played with his buttons as he wrote each question in their little notebook, and looked up each word in her Dutch. She would read what he wrote, and give her answer underneath. Then he would look up her speech. It took them several hours, more than a few tears, but they wrote enough, it seemed to him, to tell her story well for the authorities.
When she realized he was not writing another question, but just gazing at her, she pulled his lips down to hers and they spent the rest of the time fighting a desire of hers he did not understand at all. She was amused, but she was then cross and frustrated at him. He was baffled by all but the kisses. Those he urged her to repeat many times.
“
This much I have learned from her, and written it so we may be counted true to our tale and our efforts. She is from Amsterdam, and was sold to this man; she does not know his name.”
Papa was listening with growing astonishment as Yousep continued.
“
He paid her parents money, so they might not starve. She was fifteen when she last was home, and does not know her age, It was April 1917 when she left. She does not know if her parents are alive, she does not know where she is. She wept to hear it was New York, she thought perhaps she was still in the Netherlands. She was never taught our speech. She would get food, once or twice a week…she was his beaten slave -” Yousep read the list to the last and tears clouded his eyes. “- he forced his lust often.”
“
If he claims her as wife, Yousep, we will be undone. I pray to God this angel is not married in the sight of the Lord, it would be an unjust marriage, but a holy one,”
Papa threw up his hand to soothe Yousep, and calm him, because he was so distressed. The thought of his Caraliza in a union they could not break, his heart was torn in his breast. When she heard his anger she rushed to hold him close and wipe his tears.
“
Mijn aller
,aller liefste Yousep!” My love, Yousep, Dearest!
“
They are not married.”
“
Did you ask?”
“
Yes!”
“
But there is common law. He can claim her by her submission to him; it is two years Yousep! She consented to him-,” he threw up his hands again as if to shield his face from Yousep’s reaction, “she submitted to him, for two years! My son, we have only the compassion of the authorities and her innocence to help us. They must be brought tomorrow. You cannot protect longer than tonight. It rents my very heart. She is an angel truly,
malekh
. I would give all the help possible to give, but please understand, Yousep, our good help is spent,
polne
. We cannot free her! The authorities must be brought!”
Caraliza was distressed now, she understood in her heart, they were at a loss for the better care of her.
“
Mijn lieve Yousep, ik vertrouw je.” My dear Yousep, I trust you.
She tried to calm him and smile. Papa stroked her hair as she held her Yousep.
A surprise was planned for the morning, she had not been told, but after the discovery of Caraliza’s torments, the mood was saddened, and the surprise was needed now, to restore their smiles. Yousep was desperate to see the plate they made with his camera, in the garden, weeks before. It was waiting in the darkroom closet, still inside the Waterbury, lest it be ruined by some clumsiness or accident. He had time, and desire, to carry her now into the closet with him, so they might soothe their hearts, and they would see the plate developed.
The memory of the moment was vivid and wonderful, his dreams kept it close to his heart; the image surely was able to capture something they would treasure together. She happily joined him in the darkened room, and stood behind him as she loved to do, with her arms holding him as closely as she dared and still let him take his breaths; she but melted to him in those moments. They would not be moved for any reason, until his work be done, lest the plates or films be ruined.
She imagined she could hold him forever in such a way, in safe darkness, hearing his breath inside him. He began to whisper her name, knowing she would hear the sound of it in his breast, circling his heart with every beat. He sang her name to her with the sound of his heart, and the plate was secure and developed, waiting only for fixer and the wash. By the filtered candle he could see, it was indeed a good plate. It held a form as he wished. And when it was dried and forever safe to hold, he removed the lens from the candle box, and held the glass so his love could see.