Scarred Roses

Chapter six: getting to know you, getting to know all about you...

I was surprised that nobody had picked up on how different I was becoming over the past week. I woke up, made breakfast and did my chores, as per usual-that seemed to be the only normal part of my days. From then on, I'd either lock myself away in my dark-room to work on my prints or coop myself up in the attic with my books. My visits to Liliowy park became somewhat frequent, and it was beginning to scare me. Going back there nearly every day to talk to him, getting to know him better, bit-by-bit. I felt as if I barely knew myself! Tip-toeing around, casually lying to everyone around me. It wasn't something I liked to do-and yet, here I was, doing it. Why? Why was I risking the everyday existence I worked so hard to build up?

Audrey, to my shock, not only couldn't notice my comings and goings every day, she was acting like she had a secret of her very own. She had been spending a lot more time out lately; going to a party almost every night, dressed a little more scantily than even she would deem appropriate. I couldn't help wondering if Thomas had something to do with it. He used to be a frequent visitor, now I hardly ever saw him over-not even to pick up Audrey for a date. I thought at first that she might've been calling on him now-no, that wasn't it. Thomas's mother would've had a fit if she saw my sister, standing at their doorstep in a tight-fitting frock, begging for her beau to come out and take her dancing. Maybe they had taken up an entirely different past-time, I didn't know. What I did know was that we were keeping secrets from one another; something we'd promised never to do.

Victor returned three days ago, in an elaborate welcoming that could've only been Mrs. Praams' doing. She had the entire back garden of the Praams' villa decorated in red-and-white streamers, copying the color theme with matching balloons and tablecloths. Mismatched chairs littered the garden, five per table with mounds of fried chicken and noodle-Victor's favorite meal stacked on every surface. A two-tier cake was baked and decorated especially for him, and a beautifully painted banner that read 'Welcome back Victor!' (a shared effort between Leo, Ingrid and myself) strung tight between two birches. They really did go above and beyond for him, and to his effort Victor tried to seem entirely grateful for it, but we had to be idiots not to see the pain in his eyes. He really has changed because of this war-no two ways about it.

I reflected on all of this as I made my way, yet again, to Liliowy. Victor had been to horrid places in his time with the Polish army and had seen some very horrid things. But Nick? Not only had he been to a concentration camp-he lived there, for what must've been two, very awful years. And yet, he acted as if it couldn't hurt him one bit. Whereas poor Victor seemed to look at everything and everyone through a grey hue. As if he were still watching that gut-wrenching footage of the camps, long after the film had stopped running. It was strange, what a war could do to a person. Some found the humor in it and learned that laughing was more important than anything to maintain one's sanity. Others would see for the first time just how cruel one human-being could be to another, and it would permanently damage their hope in humanity. I wasn't sure I could categorize Nick or Victor as either, and I didn't really care to think more on it. Thinking of a war that was no longer in play was just, plain stupid.

"You look like you could burst a blood-vessel!" Nick commented, as I entered the clearing. "You know it's your thinking-face, right?"

"I didn't know I had a thinking face." I replied, sliding down with my back against the smooth bark.

"Of course you do-it makes you look like you're miles away; asleep with your eyes open. So, what's got you thinking so hard? An impossibly tough equation that not even the teachers answer-sheet will help you solve?"

"No,"

"Your sister's notion that the shape of your eyebrows is an indication as to what sort of husband you're going to have?"