Black Boils and Black Hearts

Chapter I

Glancing at the throng of busy shoppers as they passed the almost invisible alleyway, I grinned mischievously. A wealthy group, clothed in brown silk, cotton, and white fur from various animal pelts, they were unguarded and oblivious to my stare. An easy picking, I thought wickedly to myself. Inconspicuously making my way from the depths of the dark and decrepit side alley, I moved behind them, and looked around innocently, with my hands in my pockets. No one took notice to me inching closer and closer to the pockets full of change, jangling with the noise of reward. Temptation and greed took over, and I subtly moved my hand into the side pocket of a man dressed in bright red and brown, and dark brown fur covering his shoulders. My fingers felt for the change, grabbed the gold coins, and swiftly removed them from their owner. I stuffed the stolen goods into my own pocket, and discreetly walked away from the group. Quickening my pace, I returned to my hideout, eager to count the money.

Spilling the contents of my pocket onto the wooden base of an upturned box, I spread them out and counted each one. Very nice catch Gottfried, I congratulated my self. This latest pickpocketing adventure would feed my family, consisting of 8 people including myself, for a week. Three dozen gold coins of the highest value, enough to buy decent meat and vegetables. I wasn’t, nor am I now, the type of person that obtains pleasure out of stealing. I only stole out of bare necessity, and only to feed my family. The combined incomes of my father, a disgruntled street sweeper charged with the removal of animal and human feces, and my brother, a savage thug and hardened criminal, could not afford to feed or clothe the entire household. Somehow, my mother managed to buy a few trinkets of jewelry and assorted pots of blush. We did not question her means of getting such funds, as she helped with the purchase of family goods.

“Ah, look who it is boys. Gottfried Baum, age sixteen, and still a virgin, pickpocketing the rich for the good of his family. What an angel! No wonder no woman will touch you! You’re trying to keep your saintliness.” A few sniggers erupted from behind me. I did not have to turn around to know who spoke with such a cold and deep voice. My brother Adolf. He was only a year older than me, but he acted like the head of the household. It was even worse when he announced to the world that his virginity was lost to the neighborhood prostitute a few months ago. Ever since then, he had been taunting me about it and claimed that it made him natural leader of the family.

Turning around with a pleasant smile on my face, I watched as three mammoth bodies appeared from the shadows. Even though it was a bright day, my brother’s and his two minions’ faces were darkened enough to only see the eyes. All of them were dressed in a simple black tunic with a hood and stockings along with a belt. The clothing was stretched to the extreme, outlining every curve, indent, and extrusion to perfection. The sight was enough to make you gag if you saw them in broad daylight.

“Why, my dear brother Adolf! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be making more bastards? This is no place for an act like that. I assumed that this was a deserted alleyway. I pity the poor woman who has to have you as a partner. You’ll squish her like a bug.” There was no civility between us. There never was to be honest. From the beginning, Adolf was a sadist and I frequently caught him in the act of skinning a mouse or squirrel unfortunate enough to pass his gaze. He then would dissect the creature alive, and throw the various organs and bones at a wall for fun. Another one of his favorite activities would involve a candle and a spider. He would roast the spider over the flame and relish the smell and the spasms of the burning creature. I hastily learned to keep my distance. Adolf swiftly came forward and grabbed my shirt, pulling me upwards with great speed for his size. His face was fill of fury as his eyes of pale blue anger met mine.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you, you little asshole? You’re lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you right here and leave your body for the flies. My hands are too pure to touch the likes of you.” I snorted.

“Pure? Since when have those massive excuses for hands ever been pure? Ever since you were little, they have been tainted with the blood of innocent creatures. Not to mention, as you became a man, there were other things you were doing with those-“ Adolf snarled, flinging me across the passageway into a brick wall, knocking the breath and consciousness out of my body. I heard a sickening crack at the back of my head. As my eyes closed and my mind slipped into blackness, I caught a glimpse of my brother and his gang walking away. I knew he would be back; his pride wouldn’t let him back down. After being insulted and humiliated by his younger brother in front of his gang, I had a death wish and it was signed.

*************

My senses abruptly switched back on, and my eyes opened. The light hurt my eyes, and it took a good minute for them to adjust. Trying to get up, I was immediately sent back down. There was an amazing pounding pain in the back of my head and running down my back, I felt intense stinging. I felt the contours of my face, and feeling stickiness, withdrew my hand. It was with great difficulty to focus my eyes and raise my hand. My body had been sucked dry of all strength, and only with great effort was I able to do this simple task. The hand in front of me was coated with dry blood, and I dreaded to see what the rest of my body looked like. Probably covered with huge bruises and gashes, I thought grimly. Somehow, I managed to rise, only to bend up and hunch as I walked.

I opened my mouth to try to get someone’s attention, but all that came out was a faint croak. Limping, I managed to return onto the street, passing the many street vendors and stores slowly. No one seemed to care that a young man was hunched over with blood covering his face and a decent amount of bruises, scrapes, and injured bones. I could barely walk, and all my energy was used to keep me conscious and off the street. However, after a few minutes of this torture, I finally gave up, and slumped, finally hitting the cold dirt of the street side first. I just laid there, hoping for some miracle to cure me or some good Samaritan wanting to help. Fog clouded my eyes and eventually blackness entered, forcing all but the most primitive thoughts of survival from my mind.

Well, this is it, I thought morbidly. I die on a dirty street and no one gives a damn. I wonder if my father will find my body as he sweeps. Slipping deeper into unconsciousness, I let go of all resistance, ready to accept death, and the beautiful feeling of relief. Emptying my thoughts, I welcomed death wholeheartedly. Nothing could of been better than that; the removal of my bodily pain, the bliss of Heaven. I faintly heard a scream in the background. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Why would there be screams in God’s kingdom? A thought flashed through my mind. What if I am in Hell? I couldn’t think of any reason why I should be admitted to Satan’s lair. Was I too insulting to my brother? Did I disrespect my parents? Going down the list of the Ten Commandments, I couldn’t find anything that could lead to eternal damnation. Suddenly, it hit me.


I was going to Hell, and I was going whether or not I liked it.

I was a dirty pickpocket, stealing for my own gain. But it was for the survival of my family! I frantically pleaded to God. I don’t enjoy it, I do it to survive! Certainly He would understand. I felt my body being touched, and then a gradual increase of heat. I tried to scream for help, but all was for naught. Hell would be my new home. A blinding white light hit my eyes, confusing me. What was going on? I heard more voices; a calm, soothing soprano, and a bellowing baritone who seemed irritated. Sharp pain hit my face as it was struck continuously. “Stop it!” I cried. It suddenly stopped, and I timidly opened my anaemic blue eyes. It took a moment for everything to clear up.

I was looking up at a young woman, fifteen or sixteen, with breath taking features. Her delicate face had concern etched all over, and her brown eyes were frenziedly searching my face for signs of life. She smiled when she saw me stare in disbelief, and sighed in relief as she tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. In her hand was a damp cloth stained red, while next to it was a wooden bowl full of water.

It seemed I was laying on a large wooden table, completely undressed except for my loin cloth. “Whe....wher....where am I?” I struggled to get the words out of my mouth, and the effort produced a raspy whisper. It hurt my throat to talk, and I was desperately thirsty. My saving grace, the beautiful angel in front of me smiled again, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Shhh,” she said softly, her high voice floating in the wind. “Do not speak. I am Sarah, and I am your caretaker till you are finished with your convalescence. You are in my residence as a guest.” Even though she her voice was gentle like a soft breeze, it carried much authority. She spoke with a slight accent that I couldn’t place, and she seemed very educated. Sarah dabbed the cloth into the bowl, squeezed it so the water would trickle out, and placed it on my forehead. Scrubbing the blood and dirt away, she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “You were beaten severely. There is a large opening in the back of your head, a large bruise covering most of your spine, and various cuts and sore spots on the rest of your body. Luckily, there were no broken or fractured bones.” I smiled in relief, and enjoyed the feeling of the cloth on my head.

A brief moment later, a group of women dressed in simple white peasant garb entered the chamber, bearing bandages, lotions, and more water. Servants of Sarah, I assumed. Sarah stopped wiping my face, and put the cloth down. The servants took over, and scrubbed my whole body with water and oil. Every inch was cleaned off, and glistened from the light hitting off the oil. Sarah joined in at the end, finishing the back of my head and washing my wheat blond hair with scented water. I felt a familiar, but uncomfortable sensation down in my loincloth as I was rubbed allover, which I tried to suppress with no success. I attempted not to blush, and surprisingly succeeded, but one of the older servants noticed the bulge and winked, finally bringing out the deep blush.

The women finished washing me, and then proceeded to stitch up the back of my head. My heart beat ferociously as Sarah grabbed my hand, squeezing it hard so I would ignore the pain. For some reason, I had an attraction to this girl, and we barely knew each other. I couldn’t comprehend why I was feeling this way. Her small, perfect hand fit snugly into my large calloused one. The oldest servant, a frail, wrinkly woman, took out a needle and a spool of string and walked behind me. “Now dearie,” she said soothingly with a motherly voice, “I am going to stitch up that nasty gash on the back of your head. This will hurt, so please concentrate on something pleasant to ease the pain.” Great, more pain today. They might as well tie me up and start whacking away, I thought darkly as I rose into a sitting position.

I tightly closed my eyes, and held onto to Sarah’s hand. Instantly, I felt a sharp prick of pain near my ear as the skin was punctured. An intense ache formed around the area, and I held on for dear life to the poor girl’s hand. I must of been squishing it, as I felt her hand squirming under the pressure. The feeling grew threefold every time the needle entered my skin. Shuddering each time the skin was sown back together, it felt like an eternity of anguish. Finally, I heard the old woman snap the string, and put her tools into a pocket.

“All done sweety,” she commented happily with a smile. “Now was that so bad? The wound will heal in a week or so, so until then, try not to injure the area again.” She grinned as she walked out, with the other servants following. Sarah withdrew her hand from my grasp and started flexing her fingers. I watched with great intrigue as she removed the numbness out of her digits. She looked up and saw my stare, and began to laugh. Her laughter was like the sweet sound of music, caressing my ears with her unique comforting melody.

“You are an amazingly strong young man. I almost lost the circulation in my hand and fingers from your mighty grasp.” I blushed with embarrassment and found the strength to talk.

“I’m sorry about that, miss. I don’t know my own force sometimes,” I muttered with my head down. It seemed my throat managed to moisturize itself, and there was no pain in talking anymore. Sarah walked over and sat down besides me, carefully avoiding the water and blood.

“There’s no need to apologize. I greatly admire your muscular physique. May I ask for your name? Also, how did you become so injured? It’s not everyday a young man like yourself winds up at my abode bleeding severely.”

“My name is Gottfried Baum, miss. I live on the north side of the city....the poor side. I got into a fight, and I was thrown against a wall. It’s a miracle how I made it this far.” I suddenly realized that all of my clothing, save the loincloth, was removed. I blushed and walked over to the corner of the stone room very slowly. My clothes were huddled in a pile, and I slipped them on as quick as possible, but my body still ached tremendously. The room we were in was all stone. It seemed to be a wine cellar or a storage room, as it was cold and there were wine barrels and boxes lining the walls. Dangling from the center of the chamber was a single iron chandelier with a few lit candles. Returning to my former position, I continued our conversation.

“Sorry about that, miss. I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea if they caught me without clothing. That would be terrible hospitality on my part.” My voice was coming back to full potential, and it resumed its normal tone. Sarah smiled again, revealing her strikingly white, straight teeth. My heart sped up, and I was afraid she would be able to hear the deafening sound of it beating.

“Please call me Sarah. My full name is Guinevere Sarah Frank, but among comrades, I’m called Sarah. You are a guest of my household until you are able to live without pain. Until then, I’m going to be your caretaker as I informed you before.” She paused to gather her thoughts and began again. “Do you have family? It would be most wise if you told them of your future absence.” I nodded in agreement, but I wasn’t sure if my family would miss me. I knew of course they would miss my income, but me as a person? I highly doubted it.

“Yes, I shall send them a messenger. What time of day is it? And where in the city are we?” I assumed it was late in the afternoon, as I had met up with Adolf a little after midday. My stomach suddenly growled violently and I remembered I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was planning on buying a meal with the stolen coins. “Would you mind to spare some food? A loaf of bread and a pitcher of water will be enough. I’m awfully hungry.” Sarah frowned and glided off the table. She walked towards the stairs leading up and offered me her arm. I gently disembarked the piece of furniture and cautiously walked over, grabbing onto her dainty arm with much force. For such a little creature, she had much firmness as she pulled me up the stairs.

“A loaf of bread will not suffice.,” she remarked disapprovingly. “We have an pristine stock of food and wine, along with an excellent chef. Anything you wish for can be yours. Just ask..” I grinned at the prospect of a full meal. Never in my life had I had more than bread, butter, cheap wine, with a little onion and horse meat. I hoped fervently that my stomach was up to the challenge.

With some difficulty, Sarah and I managed to get to the street level of the house. The ascent had been extremely tiring, and I needed to sit down before I crushed the girl. She led me past what appeared to be a living room, and then into a large, well stocked kitchen. The house was lavishly decorated with many elaborate tapestries, exotic Persian rugs, colorful paintings, and marble sculptures from Italy. The kitchen itself had wooden walls, but stone flooring to help prevent fire. Across from me, there was a large flaming pile of wood with a huge vat of bubbling liquid over it. Next to that were marble shelves and counters for preparing food, along with a immense oak cupboard covering up most of the wall. In the center was a decent sized table, meticulously carved with engravings of flowers, and a dozen chairs surrounding it. The room was bright with the natural light from the few windows, and a large chandelier hung over the table.

Sarah gestured towards the table and unwrapped her arm from mine. “Here, sit at the table. I’ll go fetch our chef, and you can order whatever pleases you. Use your imagination.” She left the room smiling, her faint flowery aroma filling up my nostrils. I eagerly sniffed in the succulent scent and grinned. Gingerly sitting down on a chair, I planted my bottom down and relished the feeling. A few moments later, Sarah arrived with a middle aged man behind her. He had balding hair the color of coal, and friendly bright blue eyes. Dressed in a white tunic with an apron over it, he fit the part of the typical cook. He smiled at me, and bowed, introducing himself.

“I am Claude, the head chef here at the Frank residence. Your wish is my command.” I nodded, and he turned to the great hearth, stirring the contents of the pot. Sarah sat down next to me, putting her elbow on the table and propping up her head with her hand. She stared at me, which made me extremely self-conscious. She seemed intrigued by my presence at her household.

I cleared my throat and addressed Claude. “I think I’ll have some of what’s boiling over the fire. It smells delicious.” He turned his back to the flames and smiled at me.

“Wise choice. I’m making a vegetable stew with sliced pieces of beef. It’s one of Sarah’s favorites.” He winked at her, who grinned in reply. I smacked my lips in delight, which made Sarah giggle.

“You have a lovely home,” I commented. “You still haven’t told me where we are in the city, or what time it is.” Sarah gave me a quizzical look.

“You don’t miss anything do you? It’s a few hours after noon, and this house is located on the south side of the city on the riverside. You can send a message after you finish your meal.” I nodded. Claude scooped out a large helping of the stew and put it into a bowl. He added a spoon, and laid it out before me. Still steaming, I inhaled, making my mouth water. Once it cooled down, I began to devour the meal. It only took a few minutes to finish it off. I patted my stomach with satisfaction. Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed. “Men! Just give them a decent meal and they’re appeased for weeks!”

A servant came from behind me, making me jump. He placed a small piece of parchment, a container of ink, a new white quill, and a red string. “Write your message. I’ll have our messengers send it out as soon as the letter is completed.” Sarah dipped the quill, and handed to me, leaning in to observe me write. I twirled the quill in my hand, thinking about how to word my missive to home. My parents would not be pleased that I was imposing on a wealthy family, and Adolf would be furious that I hadn’t been left for the vultures. My four younger siblings wouldn’t really care if I was at home or not. My family was a loving one as you can tell.

I put the quill to the paper, and scribbled a note in my barely legible handwriting.

Otto & Eva Baum, 78 Alte Gasse 26th of October

Dear Father and Mother,
This morning, I was severely injured in a cart crash where I was slammed into a wall. I am currently residing at the Frank’s household at 17 Alte Mainzer Gasse. Their daughter, Guinevere, has taken me in under her care. Do not worry, she insists that I am not a burden and I am forced to stay here until my injuries heal.
Your son,
G. Baum

Chapter II

Just like Sarah predicted, I was stuck in bed for a six whole days, recovering from my battle scars. Everyday at dawn, she would come up into my room and bring me breakfast; a hearty meal of eggs, bread, some beef, and a little wine. My dedicated overseer did the same for lunch at noon, and supper in the evening. She would then drop off my cleaned clothes, and wait outside as I dressed as swiftly as possible. My chamber was situated on the third floor, with a window overlooking the bustling thoroughfare below us. Inside, it had a bright wooden floor with a giant tan rug in the middle and wooden walls. One or two paintings hung on the walls, depicting happy peasants performing farm work. Occupying my residence was a small goose feather bed, a maple table and dresser, and a chair in the corner.

To keep me from spiraling into extreme boredom, Sarah would sit by my side and stare out the window. She would then create stories about the people below, many ending in a happy romance. It was amazing how in a blink of an eye, a life history would pop into that creative mind of hers. I enjoyed the tales immensely and thanked her profusely every time she completed one. Also, we talked about each other’s families and what we enjoyed to do. From this I learned that Sarah, who was fifteen, was an only child of a prosperous clothe and fur merchant. Her father, Abraham, and her mother, Helga, had married later than expected and she was unable to conceive anymore children. Abraham inherited a small tailors shop and transformed it into a humongous organization, buying clothe, silk, and fur for cheap and selling them off with great profit.

I admired her father’s enterprising spirit and his skill at business, but I did not like his personality. On the second day of my convalescence at around sunset, Sarah and her father erupted into a heated argument. She narrated the disagreement in great detail soon after:

“Guinevere, who is that boy in the upstairs guestroom? I believe I did not give permission for such a action to take place,” Abraham inquired. He had a decent amount of poison in his voice. Sarah rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Father, he was unconscious and had blood splattered all over his face. He was just laying in front of our doorstep. What would you think I would do? I couldn’t just leave him there for the sweepers to take him away. You know me better than that,” replied Sarah. Although she spoke quietly, her voice was omnipotent and made her point clearly. Her father sighed.

“I will not have this street urchin living in my house. I don’t couldn’t care less if he’s suffered a beating. He would probably deserved it for robbing a vendor.” Sarah glared at him.

“How dare you insinuate that he’s a hardened criminal! He was in a cart accident and was shoved into a wall with great force! He is staying under my care until he is well again. I can’t believe this! My own father, someone supposed to be of noble blood, defined morals, and a devout Jew, is acting like an arrogant, ungrateful rich man. ”

“You are forgetting your place, Guinevere. I am the master of this household, and I will not let this bastard stay any longer, do you understand?” By this time, Abraham was yelling, and a large vein pulsing on his forehead was threatening to explode. Surprisingly, Sarah kept calm and narrowed her eyes.

“Fine, if that is your wish, so be it. However, next time a marriage offer is proposed and it asks for my hand, I am converting to Catholicism and joining a convent. And you know I mean it.” She spun around and began walking towards the stairs.

“Fine, the wretched boy can stay, but only for a week, you hear me? After that, he’s out of here. No convent either. You are staying a Jewess.” Abraham sighed and walked away. Smirking to herself, Sarah walked upstairs quite happily and repeated the story to me.

Throughout these conversations and her actions, I realized what a kind and caring person Sarah was. She almost risked her dowry, her name, and her position in life for the sake of an abused young man such as myself. If her father hadn’t had a sweet spot for his only daughter, she would of been on the streets, begging for money and in rags in mere hours after the incident. I was deeply humbled by her courage and her sincerity, and the sowed seeds of affection planted by her rescue took root and began to grow.

I had a profound attraction to Sarah, but I had only known her for six days. It seemed very illogical that a person in such a short period of time could fall in love. At night, where I mulled over such matters, I argued with myself. A part of me claimed me to be fickle, and tried to assure me that this feeling was fleeting and I only had this force because I was stuck in a house with a young woman at my side. However, a more serious side of me pondered. What if my feelings were true? Would this blossom into full fledged love? I was filled with blissful hope for a positive outcome, yet utter determination for this not to happen. What a dilemma, I thought.

*************

The following morning I woke up to the sound of a cock crowing. It was past sunrise, and I was surprised why Sarah hadn’t woken me up earlier. I didn’t make much of it, and I got out of bed yawning. The night before had been a sleepless one, with me tossing and turning. Sarah was part of the reason. I had spent the night thinking of her and our possible future together, and it filled me with great excitement. Too much excitement. Pulling the curtains back, I basked in the warm sun of a crisp early November day. The streets and rivers were congested with acorns and multicolored leaves, each with their own unique shade of red, orange, and yellow. Many people were preparing for the winter ahead, stockpiling their resources for the incoming cold and hardships.

I fumbled around for my clothing, and dressed quickly, hoping to find Sarah. I was finally able to walk without a limp or pain, and I was eager to stretch my legs and get out of bed. Therefore, I nearly swallowed my breakfast whole trying to finish up. Heading downstairs, I entered the kitchen and found Claude dicing up some fennel and onion. He heard me arrive and turned around with a warm smile. “Ah, Master Gottfried! Awake at last! Did you have a pleasant sleep last night?” I smiled back and yawned again.

“No, it was terrible. I only received an hour or so of good sleep,” I replied groggily. He gave me a worried look. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve gone without sleep for days on end.” Searching for Sarah, I entered the livingroom and the library, but to no avail. I reentered the kitchen and addressed Claude. “Claude, where is Sarah? This is not like her.” Too busy preparing lunch, he grunted and jerked his head towards the door leading to the cellar. “Thanks,” I responded and descended into the frigid underground room. I found Sarah and her father tapping the wine caskets, tasting the many varieties. Abraham immediately glared at me, and sulked towards the back of the room behind a row of boxes. She turned around, and surprisingly hugged me tightly and hung on for a good minute before letting go. I could feel Abraham seething with anger.

Laughing off her zealous response to see me, I ‘accidentally’ brushed my hand on hers, rocketing a shiver down my spine. “So, what are you doing down here? I was getting worried why my caretaker hadn’t shown up.” Sarah giggled, and walked over to one of the caskets.

“My father and I are sampling the many wines we have here to pick which one will suffice for the banquet we are holding tonight. It is to celebrate my father’s acquisition of another fur company. That is why Claude has little time for frivolity.” She pointed to the barrel beside her and tapped it, letting it drip into a shallow gold chalice in her hand. Thrusting it forward for me to take, she said, “This is our favorite. It is sweet enough to suit the palate, but not too sweet, and with a hint of bitterness. It is truly fascinating.” I took the vessel, and sipped it, savoring the invigorating taste.

“Ah, this is the best wine I have ever tasted! Your guests will be enticed by this drink all night long.” I put the cup down, and as I did I heard a murmur in the background.

“....filthy son of a bitch.....defiling my wine....intrude on my household.....stepping with dirty feet on my pure floor....wasn’t for Sarah, I would kill....” I frowned and decided to ignore Abraham’s derogatory remarks. Clearing my throat, I approached Sarah once more.

“Since I can finally walk proficiently, would you like to go with me to the market?” My voice cracked at the end of sentence. “Today’s the big one of the week, I believe.” God, I am such an imbecile. Why did I have to sound so nervous? I berated myself on my obvious behavior. She revealed her beautiful smile of hers, and I instantaneously forgot all other previous feelings.

“Yes, I would like that very much. We can leave right now, as a matter of fact. I’m prepared to go.” I grinned in return.

“Wonderful!” I gestured to the staircase. “Shall we?” An oppositional fit of coughing from the back of the room interrupted Sarah’s answer and we both turned to investigate. Abraham rose from his crouching position and flung his hand, indicating us to go on. In between a few coughs, he managed to speak an audible sentence.

“Don’t mind me....blasted allergies! Always ruining the moment.” His daughter rolled her eyes in disgust and I chuckled as we began the way up. A few moments later, we erupted onto the street. The sun shone proudly and warmed the buzzing humans on the ground. It was a nippy day, but not cold enough to cause shivering. Wisely, Sarah had made me wear an extra coat lying around, and I wasn’t regretting it at all. The two of us made our way northbound, towards the center of the city where the main marketplace was located. Saturday was the day where most of the farmers and merchants around Frankfurt Am Main set up shop and tried forcing their goods upon you. A myriad of goods could be found, anything from cabbage to swords, love potions to leather.


As we got closer, Sarah started shivering although she was warmly clothed, which I found odd. However, I invited her to stick her hand into my coat pocket. Gladly accepting the offer, she cozily fit her right hand into the crevice. Being this close to her made my heart speed up, and a thrill of excitement occupied my mind.

“What does your father have against me besides the fact that I am poor, dirty, and insignificant? Which of course, is all true.” She scowled at my degradation.

“You may be less fortunate than us, but you are not dirty nor are you insignificant. As for my father, he dislikes Catholics has a whole. His memories aren’t filled with many pleasant ones of the followers of Christ.” Sarah looked down as she finished her sentence.

“Why is that? I can’t imagine his whole life is constantly occupied with wrongdoings,” I countered.

“His whole life isn’t,” she retorted. “Just his childhood.” She stopped for a couple of moments, and then preceded to resume our conversation. “When he was a child, he was steadily harassed by his Christian schoolmates and neighbors. No one wanted to befriend him because he was Jewish. Eventually, all this anger and hatred built up into a severe dislike for Christians, especially Catholics. The cataclysmic event happened when he was our age. My father resided next to the town well, and one year it was poisoned. No on knew who the culprit was, but the local anti-Semites pointed their finger at my grandparents, who were wealthy and popular. That night, the building was set on fire, and my father only narrowly escaped. His parents, his hopes, and his dreams had gone down into ashes.”

I looked down with a saddening lump forming in my throat. No wonder why Abraham was always in a gloomy mood. Everything he loved disappeared on one tragic night. Sarah was clearly upset and you could tell that she was trying to suppress the developing tears. I put a caring arm around her, and drew her closer to me, compassionately hugging her. She stayed in that position for a moment, and then withdrew, looking much better. “Thank you for your sympathy. I needed that,” she said quietly. I smiled, quickly squeezing her next to me again.

“You’re welcome. I believe we’re at the marketplace already. That was fast.” Hundreds of stalls, carts, and tents were set up across the square. Not an inch of cobblestone was wasted, and there was barely any space in between. To make it even worse, it seemed the whole city was out and about, shopping with us. We cautiously made our way towards the jewel vendor section, for Sarah needed a new ring. At once, half a dozen merchants came flying up to us, shoving their goods in our faces and screaming about prices and deals. With one arm I sheltered Sarah from the storm and with the other I flexed, sending a clear message that my group was not to be harassed. Also, my figure gave off the aura of staying away. I was 6 feet and 2 inches tall, reasonably plump, and well built with my muscles manifestly defined. Wisely, the hounds retreated to their respective stalls and began harassing other luckless souls.

Sarah enjoyed window shopping, and took her time going from purveyor to purveyor. We milled through the section, finally finding a stall with sufficient material to catch her eye. She approached the man behind the counter and began her haggling to purchase a simple, but stunning gold and emerald ring. I stayed behind, watching the crowd aimlessly while keeping my view on Sarah. I knew the ways of the pretty criminal, and she was a prime victim. Feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise, I cautiously turned around and saw two gigantic tan men staring at me, apparently of Turkish descent. They were easily seven feet and at least 300 pounds of muscle. Their dark, cold black eyes were clouded by an ill kept head of raven hair. Both grew long braided facial hair. I returned the stare and the larger one smirked. Eventually the conspicuous group left, blending in with the shadow of a nearby alleyway.

“Gottfried, are you ready to depart?” Sarah’s bright cheerful voice interrupted my gaze and spun around. Her smile faded and she spoke with a hint of worry. “What’s wrong? Your appear mystified.” Trying to reassure her, I smiled and gestured her forward.

“Nothing is out of hand. I just saw something interesting and it intrigued my greatly. Did you manage to get a bargain on the ring?” She nodded vigorously and produced the ring. It glittered spectacularly on her index finger, with a rainbow of colors streaming through the air. I was awestruck by its beauty. “Wow Sarah, that ring is fantastic! Nothing I have ever seen can compare to it’s elegance and it’s stunning appeal. Nothing, except you.” I faintly blushed, but I was easily outdone by Sarah’s beet red face.

“Really Gottfried, you’re too benevolent,”she mussitated. “I am not a beauty, not at all. You should see the girls at the synagogue. They make men stop in their tracks. I’m too bland.” I chortled and pushed loose strand of her shiny brown hair behind her ear. “I would take you over every other sweetheart in a second.,” I whispered. A new and potent blush erupted, and Sarah tried to hide it by turning her face. Laughing at her awkwardness, I ushered her through the maze of crazed sellers and frantic shoppers.

The route back was less crowded and I managed to get half way through with only bumping elbows or shoulders with five people. That is quite an achievement, as my bulky body is tough to physically miss. The tingling sensation on my neck returned and I subtly glanced left and right. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my two Turkish stalkers, hiding behind a large sign. They suddenly left without a trace and I shrugged it off. Just a coincidence, I thought. A few minutes later, I spotted the duo in innocently leaning on a wall, staring at Sarah and I. I sighed. Wonderful, two grotesquely huge men following me. Just what I need.

Swerving Sarah towards the side of the street, I discreetly guided us into another side alley. I knew the streets of Frankfurt to perfection, and I had upmost confidence in my navigating skills. Making a swift right and then a sharp left, we ventured deeper and deeper into the dark side of the city. Sarah made a protesting noise and tried to stop. “Where are we going? And what’s happening?” I pushed her along frantically and looked behind. Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of that black braided hair.

“Ask questions later. Just listen to me and keep walking. Oh, and don’t make a sound.” Breaking into a run, we made a few more quick turns. It was almost pitch black, but I easily piloted through. After the last turn, it was a clear run straight across. I tried to go faster, but Sarah was not used to these conditions and her legs would not support her. Picking her up, I cradled her in my arms as I ran head first down the alleyway.

“Gottfried! There’s a wall!” Sarah gasped. I slammed into the wooden wall at the end of the passage with all my weight. The section gave in and we were thrown into a hidden street. I landed on the cold stone floor first with Sarah seconds later on top of my chest. We were both panting from the exertion, but I knew we were safe. No one but me knew this place existed. To the onlooker on the outside, it was just a wall. However, I discovered this trap door one day when I was a child. I was running away from Adolf and I had recklessly ran to the right, losing my balance and falling into the trapdoor with all my brute strength. This place was a second home. I spent many nights just laying on a straw mat, hiding from my sadist brother or my drunken father. Dislodging myself from Sarah, and I rose and brushed myself off.

“Are you okay? I tried to shield you from most of the impact.” She rose as well and patted out her clothing.

“I’m fine, thank you. Where are we and what is going on? One minute we’re strolling casually down the main road, and then the next we’re being flung into dark alleys and trapdoors.” Sarah was annoyed and I could tell. I walked over and put my arm around her.

“There were two men following us back from the market, and I wanted to loose them. I think we did. I’m the only one who knows about this place, so we’re safe for now.” She sighed in relief and hugged me firmly.

“You frightened me! I thought you had lost all traces of sensibility when you propelled me into the dark and dragged me along.” She snuggled up against me and rested her head on my chest. “Thank you for saving me. You’re brilliant.” I blushed, and with a free hand pulled over a wooden crate. It was covered with dust, so I blew as much as I could off. I sat down on it with Sarah next to me. I watched her as she played with her ring, sliding it up and down on her finger. She kept opening her mouth as if to say something, but then abruptly closing it.

“Gottfried, I......” Sarah began hesitantly. She stopped and then promptly resumed. “I....I... have something to confide in you.” I turned my head, quite interested at her lack of confidence. Usually she spoke with the utmost assurance.

“Sarah, are you sure you’re fine? You’re stuttering and you seem really nervous.” I gave my full attention and turned my body so we were directly facing each other. She sighed and half laughed, shaking her head in disgust.

“I’m such a coward, Frie, I really am. I should be more open with my feelings. I’m sure it’s trivial to your life, but to mine......” Her face turned fire red, and it suddenly dawned on me. She was being timid for a reason, a very good reason at that.

Grinning, I cupped her face in my hand and leaned forward, whispering, “Honey, I know.” The last couple of inches between us disappeared, and our lips connected. Instantly, the massive surge of the joy of a first kiss rocketed throughout my body, ricocheting off my veins. It felt like we were floating in our own world. Just the two of us, embracing and united. Sarah returned the kiss with another, and I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her closer. She did the same was well, and I felt her hands going up and down my back. The exhilaration and excitement was unbearable, almost painful, and I ardently wished it would never end. Each new kiss grew more fervent and our hands grew more active, groping around each other’s body, searching for something.

I broke apart as the last kiss ended, and opened my eyes. Sarah laughed and turned crimson. She took my hand and laid it palms up on her thigh, tracing the many lines and calluses on it. Her touched tickled me, tingling with the thrill. We stayed like this for a good amount of time, enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, I rose and galloped into the trapdoor, swinging it open. I held it open and let Sarah through, closing it behind me with a thud. Once we approached the main road, the darkness of the alleyways vanished. It was dark red outside with the sun almost down. “We better get to your house before it’s completely dark. Your father will be wondering where we are.” She grabbed my hand, squeezed it once, and looked up at my face. Her eyes were glittering with the delirium of love. I smiled back and we began to walk.

The rest of the journey to the Frank’s residence was quite uneventful, finally reaching the front door. We let go over each other’s hands. Sarah’s family and especially mine, would not be pleased with this no relationship. Her father was a complete snob who sneered at anyone lower than him, and my whole family, excluding me, were extreme anti-Semites. Not to mention they abhorred the rich. We both knew that our family nor our friends could ever find out, and drastic measures would have to be taken so no hint of our budding romance would be remotely shown.

She rapped on the door, and a few seconds later, a young male servant opened it. Sarah stepped in and handed her coat to him. I followed, slipping my coat off, but he swiftly drew back, shooting a jealous glare at my surprised expression. He sulked away, leaving me with a coat dangling off my fingers. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who wanted Sarah’s company.

I traipsed up the stairs to my loft room with her following. Entering my room, I threw the garment onto the chair in the corner and sat down on my bed, waiting for Sarah to arrive next to me. She did the same, and I put my arm around her waist. I put my head into her hair, breathing in her intoxicating essence. “I should be leaving. The week is up and I’m perfectly fine,” I muttered. She turned her head to look at me, dislodging my face from her hair. Those sparkling vats of light brown were full of worry.

“Please stay, just one more day,” Sarah pleaded. “I can persuade my father. You can stay up here when the banquet is held, no one will see you, and then we’ll have tomorrow to enjoy each other’s presence.” She stroked the side of my face with the back of her hand, making my skin prickle with pleasure.

“I can’t. I need to go back to my family. As much as I would love to stay here, my family needs me more.” She sighed.

“You’re correct, I should not be keeping you here. Family is a man’s first obligation.” Pausing, she looked down. “I just don’t want you leaving.” I tried smilingly as happily as I could and lifted her chin up, turning her head towards me.

“Don’t think that we are never going to see each other again. I have a few tricks to get you down to see me without no one noticing. Of course, they require your cooperation.” I grinned as I finished the sentence. Sarah leaned in and put her lips against mine, kissing me so tenderly that I nearly fainted. She drew back and smiled as a I shuddered with delight.

“Frie, you will always have my collaboration.” I kissed her once more and rose, walking towards the door. I stopped before the opening, and turned around.


“Goodbye.” Exiting the room, I descended the stairs until reaching the street level, and departed the house. The sun was down now, and it took awhile for my eyes to adapt to the lack of light. The stars above me were glowing brightly, guiding me down the abandoned streets. I began my unpleasant journey home.