Missing

41. Up Into the Mountains

Saturday night, after a splendid dinner at Zum Jungfrau, David and Maria walked through the quiet streets to the hotel. "This is such a tranquil setting, but all of Switzerland is." He pressed his hand against hers on his arm. "Heaven is a place in the mind, in the soul, but all of this certainly helps me picture the setting."

"You think this too?" She looked up into his face. "We often discussed this at home, how we make our own heavens through our thoughts and actions. We make our own hells also through hate and spite and malicious deeds. The choice is ours: to live in Heaven or to suffer a life of Hell. Kaiser Wilhelm seems to prefer Hell."

"I used to try to make sense of praying to imaginary beings to help me rather than helping myself. I soon saw through the idea of suffering here on earth so I could enjoy some mythical heaven later. When Father Bourgeois molested me, I began more seriously questioning the version of reality that the nuns and priests were forcing into our young minds."

"When was that – how old were you when he molested you?"

"Fourteen."

"So, two years before Sister Clemencia started using you."

"Closer to a year and a half. Guess I was fourteen and a half, then. Funny, he ranted chastity from the pulpit and used his celibacy as an example of pious living and honouring God."

"What of Sister Clemencia's attitudes? We've not talked of those."

"She seemed very confused. She professed religious piety and preached the mumbo-jumbo in class, but in her little convent room after school, her body gave other messages. We seldom talked of anything other than her guiding my actions."

"You didn't share thoughts?"

"She dismissed my questions – seemed to ignore my comments. Our sessions became increasingly silent. Whatever her thoughts were, she kept them to herself, showing me well how to deny emotions."

"Denying emotions seems a quick way to Hell. Holding them inside, not allowing their expression or ..." She looked up as he moved a hand to her elbow. "Here already?"

He guided her up the steps to the hotel entrance. "I love the way you're so free to share what's on your mind and what's happening with your emotions. Allows me to move closely with you. Feel as a part of you."

"Mama has always said openness and sharing are signs of love and respect. Holding things back or keeping them inside denies our reality and demeans those around us."

"Wise words." He led her through the door and across the lobby to the desk for the key and then to the lift. They stood inside their room and hugged for a long while before he asked, "Dare we? It's near midnight, maybe too close to your fertility."

She pressed her mound onto his thigh and gently moved it. "I think it's still safe." She began unbuttoning his shirt. "If you impregnate me, there'll be something additional for you to come back to."

"I need nothing additional. You're far more than enough to draw me back." He gazed into her eyes. "Would you want that? You're still very young. You've a lifetime ahead."

"I've a lifetime ahead with you. With our children. Mama was nineteen when she had Jacob and twenty-one when she had me. Grandma was twenty when she had Mama. Their lives seem fulfilled."

"But your nursing training, your thoughts of continuing on into medicine? What of those? Caring for a child will hamper; likely prevent."

"We could get a nursemaid."

"How would you have liked growing up with a nursemaid and only occasionally seeing your mother? With the war, I might not be around often, if at all, during the child's early years. I wouldn't think that fair."