Legend's Pet

Chapter thirty three: Gone

In the evening, the fog that had clung to the land for the past few days lifted. The air felt silky, and the ground, soft. My paws sunk into the mud as I paced the camp, searching the skies for Manfred. I kept checking over and over again, expecting his plane to materialize all of a sudden.

I went to the mess hall as usual at dinner time, and tried not to feel too worried. The people around me said he might not be dead, just a prisoner. He'd get out soon enough. I wanted to believe this too, but Greta and Brise knew better. They kept glancing over at me with gloomy eyes instead of eating. I tried to smile back at them, before making my way towards Manfred's room. I slipped in through the door. The machine guns and serial numbers hung on the walls, the chandelier was dark, and the bed was empty and unmade. I stared at them for a long time, before shaking the mud from my fur, and curling up by the dark fireplace filled with ashes.

I lay there for a while before I let a whimper escape from my mouth. I could still hear his voice, in the garden back in Silesia. "I don't want to die. I want to know how this war will end."  But it made no difference. My Manfred was dead.

 I knew I was meant to be surprised. After all, he was supposed to be the best pilot, a hero to so many, a man who could survive anything. The next day when his death became undeniable, everyone around me would hang their heads and say legends like him never truly died. I knew they'd be right. The Red Battle Flyer  wasn't really gone. But Manfred was. And he'd been gone longer than I thought.

. . .

Life feels like a dream that I am just waking up from. I want to open my eyes, find myself in a little farm somewhere in the countryside, and live it again. Maybe, this time I'll be able to make sense of everything.

I paw the scarf loose from my neck and close my eyes.

I hear a door creaking open, and lift my head up.

But Manfred isn't there.