Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 15. Chapter 15

I will always love you, Daniel
 
Goo goo baby eyes warning:  This chapter contains goo goo baby eyes in it.
A reader brought that to my attention.  I like them and they are in here.  

Part Two

There was a period of spoken words that Milo was giving to Bren that wasn’t really heard, it was to Bren only.

“Do you need a break, Bren?” Dr. Lowenstein asked compassionately.

You could hear a sniff. “No, I’m alright. Maybe some water?”

“Sure.” Dr. Lowenstein said kindly. “I’ll be right back.”

What was interesting was, she kept the recorder on. Was it on purpose? We heard what was said by Bren and Milo to each other.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Milo.”

“You don’t have to, I told you that,” Milo said softly.

“But I keep doing this…blackout thing,” Bren said. “I keep remembering what they did…not just to me, but to you!”

“I told her what happened to me and what they forced me to. I had to do those things.” Milo said. “She knows. She’s very understanding. I didn’t want to do it. They hurt you to make me…”

“I know!” Bren shouted. “I saw it a lot of it and you told me!”

“I’m sorry you did see what I did, but I couldn’t let them hurt you,” Milo said.

“I know!” Bren shouted frustrated again. “You gave those guards a blow job each and later…they hurt me, Milo.”

“I know,” Milo said. “I hurt…” now he was crying, “so bad when they did what they did to you. Seeing that hurt me so much, not what you went through, you didn’t do anything, what I saw them do to you.” His voice became harder, filled with hate. “I wanted to tear them apart, but I couldn’t.” He then started crying louder. “I hurt when they hurt you. I never blamed you. Never. You are my angel, Bren.”

“You were so brave and…I am so pathetic and helpless.” Bren said sadly. “I was just…weak.”

“No!!” Milo said still crying but firmly said. “You were never pathetic and certainly are not weak, what happened to you and me should never have happened.” At certain parts, his voice faded, but only as he pressed his mouth against Bren to comfort him. Probably. The sound of the small kisses to Bren proved that. “You survived! I survived. Many would have killed themselves after what happened. That proves you are not weak. Please believe that.”

“If you weren’t there, I would have died.” Bren mournfully.

“Don’t you see? We need each other. I stayed alive because of you. You stayed alive because of me. What you and I went through, I would go insane if you weren’t with me, but I’m not. You just get…lost when remembering.” Milo said sympathetic and that part lovingly, understanding.

The door opened. “Here’s that water, Bren.” After a moment, she said. “I think that’s enough for today.” She added hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she chuckled, “well, the tape is still running. I did hear a bit of what you two said. Bren, you talked about it. You didn’t fade off.” Dr. Lowenstein said proudly.

“Milo was there,” Bren said simply. “He saw everything.”

“That’s why he should be here. When these episodes happen, what usually happens right before?” Dr. Lowenstein asked.

“Most of the time, I can stop the memories from coming.”

“Okay, when they happen, is it because of something else? A sound or smell or even an event that happens?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Bren said honestly.

“Episodes like yours, that is usually something that triggers these fade-outs. You get lost in the memories.” Dr. Lowenstein explained. “Soldiers, have something that reminds them of a terrible experience. Suddenly, they are back in the war…seeing and hearing events that their minds can’t tell weren’t still happening. You relive them. I get the feeling, that’s happening to you, Bren.”

“Yes,” Bren answered. “I do. Suddenly, I’m back and they are doing it again.” He let out a soft sob. “It just happens again over and over.”

“You are safe with Milo.” Dr. Lowenstein said. “That’s why you can talk about it with him. We’ll go over more later. As you can. No, rush. It will get better.”

“It’s just so…hard.” Bren said sniffing again.

“I do understand, Bren.” She took a breath. “My family suffered as well because we are Jewish. There were many incidents where guards used us…toyed with us. Often demanding oral sex if not just plain sex. I did. Make no mistake. They were sadists. Hurting a person and becoming aroused as they did it. That you and Milo had a relationship could never compare to the atrocities they committed. What you and Milo have, is love. What they did, was a horrible crime. In the case of you two, it’s a miracle you managed to survive…together.”

“I never understood why we were being held for loving each other, while most things I was asked to do were as bad and even worse to them!” Milo said. “Why was what we did a crime and what they did wasn’t?”

Dr. Lowenstein chuckled. “Yes, well that wasn’t about sex at all. There were sexual aspects most definitely, but…” she sighed, “as I have observed and read about humans in general…I found that human sexuality is much more complex than simply mating of a man and woman. Many are somewhere in between heterosexual and homosexual. We are sexual as a socializing species. There are accounts of many that are married in a traditional sort of marriage, who also enjoy relationships with the same gender.” She said simply. “Those people were thinking they are above the laws…above the laws of God, nature, and man. In many cases, Bren, those that assaulted you weren’t sexually attracted to you, but did it, because they could. There are many accounts of sexual atrocities throughout history. There are those that are just plain mentally ill. Many of them gaining pleasure making someone suffer. Some just like to cause pain and humiliate. What’s sad is there are those that derive pleasure from the pain given and humiliation. It’s, to me, a bizarre world. What happened with you two was pain and humiliation. What you and Milo have, is love. I’m going to ask a delicate question…a question I think I know the answer to. Did you ever have relations of any kind with anyone else?”

“No!” The answer was immediate from both of them.

She chuckled. “I got that impression pretty soon after meeting you two.”

“Well…” Milo said a little guilty. “There was the one time…all we did was…” he hurried to explain. “We were both on the same team changing clothes in the locker room and…no real relation, but we did touch…we both had erections and…”

She laughed again. “How old were you?”

“Eleven, I think,” Milo said.

“That’s just preadolescence curiosity.” She said. “That’s normal. That’s simple curiosity. It’s innocent.” The sound of her sitting down. “There are those who consider themselves very heterosexual that don’t commit to one person. Playboys. Committed bachelors, who will have sex. They are human. There are those heterosexual and homosexual that frequently have sex with many. You two have and have done is commit to each other. You are rare.” There was a sigh again. “Those people in Germany…were very disturbed. Left to do whatever they wanted to do…they feared nothing they did was not okay and there would be no repercussions. It’s been around in human nature for thousands and thousands of years…recorded by history.”

“Because they could,” Milo said resolved.

“Jews were blamed for the financial hardships in Europe that just blew up and we were scapegoated for a lot of other things.” She explained. “We have been taught that homosexuality by the churches, synagogues and generally man’s lack of understanding to despise homosexuals. These views were just exploited by them.”

“If it weren’t for a man…used like us…who started the fire and distracted the other guards…we would be dead, like many others.” Milo said. “I can’t help but think, it was a miracle.”

“I believe it was.” Dr. Lowenstein said. “I will tell you. I performed quite a few acts of oral sex myself.”

“You were in a concentration camp?” Bren asked.

“Yes.” She answered. “Due to a…mistake clerically, I was released. I went and found my parents and got them out of Austria. We came here.”

“You were forced to commit sexual acts,” Bren said to confirm.

“I was, as were many there and told to commit acts with many men and with two women.” The way she said it was so…matter of fact. It no longer was something she was afraid of and not embarrassed about. It simply happened. “I was forced to have actual sex with about nine men. They weren’t gentle at all. I can give you details if it helps you understand…this wasn’t either of your faults or mine…neither of you deserved what happened. What you did was to save the other and yourselves. That’s how I know, talking helps. I still remember. I’ll never forget, but it’s not as bad now. It’s in my past.”

Bren sighed. “It hard for me to talk about.”

“I do understand that, too.” Dr. Lowenstein said. “They did this to many people in the camps. The events that happened to you are yours. We will go through them together. Nothing you tell me will shock me. Do you understand? This will take some time.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Milo said. “Come on, Baby. Let’s go home.”

She ended the session again, stating the time and date again.

I sat back astounded. “My god. That woman is amazing.”

Peter nodded. “She was gifted. Great insight.”

“Did they even know about Post Traumatic Depression then? She did! She understood so much…she even predates the Kinsey Scale!” I said marveling but said Kinsey Scale in English.

“The what?” Peter asked.

“Hang on.” We were at the computer, so I typed quickly on the keyboard. “There…” I pointed to the screen. “It’s a scale that tells the…it rates of men and women on where they are sexually. He and a few others said that men…and women were not all just gay and straight. We all are at different points on that scale!”

Peter read the screen. “Well, it was in the late forties and fifties. Maybe she was involved with that?”

“He was American,” I said not seeing how. “She was in Makarovia.”

Peter nodded. “Well, observation of the same things…even in different parts of the world can bring different people to the same conclusions. They both understood human nature and did that.”

I turned smiling at him. “I told you. We’re normal!!” I said happily and loud.

He chuckled. “I never thought we weren’t!” Peter said as loud smiling.

I don’t know, but…there were times…he was just sexy! It just hit me and I grabbed his hand, dragging him where he almost stumbled, into the bedroom, pushed him down on the bed on his back where I lay across him, kissing him hard feeling a need I didn’t want to squash down as my hands traveled up his untucked shirt. “Make love to me.”

Peter smiled but was enjoying my attack. “I’m more than willing, I thought you wanted me.”

“I do want you! You first!”

I said a few times we had passion. I said also, there were those sweet moments he and I did make love…slow and tender and…this wasn’t one of those times. What we had was explosive, fast, driven where I came, he came and we did many of his gift box suggestions from memory. When at last we both climaxed at last again. We settled down again breathless and panting to regulate our breathing and heart rates as he collapsed as his arms encompassed around me, his head bowed in glorious exhaustion beside mine, but he turned his head toward me, kissing me lightly.

“Have I…told you…I love you?” I asked as I was gaining some control.

He chuckled. “Not in the…last…hour or two.” He said running his lips over my jaw to my mouth. “We…didn’t do…a lot of…talking.” He laughed lightly. “But I got…that message.”

“I do love you, Peter,” I said softly. “You’re my whole world.”

He looked at me with those grey-green eyes. “I know you do.” He smiled kissing me again. “You’re my world. I love you.”

I nodded squeezing him to me. “I know, Peter.” I grinned. “I still have to study the original Beowulf.” I ran a finger of his face. “I believe your coffee will be cold by now, too.”

He shrugged. “I drank most of it while listening to Bren and Milo.”

“They belonged to each other.” I smiled. “Like you and I do.”

“That’s right.” He kissed with each of the following words. “We…belong…to…each…other.”

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving Grandmother again returned to Boston. She arrived and we enjoyed a good visit with her and she even insisted that both Boris and Yuri join us for Thanksgiving.

When they didn’t really understand why they were included she smiled. “Gentlemen, I was born and raised in Kiev in the Ukraine. It was a foreign holiday for me too when I got here.” She gave a shrugging nod. “Whatever origins we have, a day of thanks just made sense and I have so much to be thankful for. I had a very good life. I had the love of a very, very special man. I gave birth to a beautiful daughter with that man. She gave me a wonderful grandson.” She smiled at me. “Who is marrying an equally wonderful person. I am so grateful for Peter and the others in this family. It is an American Holiday, but we can celebrate it…giving thanks for all we each have.” She waved at Boris. “You have love with Yuri, I see it. That’s something to give thanks for. Yuri has your love. That’s something he can be grateful for. I know you have good jobs and do them well. There are aspects in your lives I know you can give thanks for. Makarovia should be given thanks for. This day doesn’t belong to just America. We can do it, too.”

They were nodding, but Boris frowned. “That’s fine…but turkey?”

“You don’t like turkey?” I asked smiling.

Boris shrugged. “I suppose it’s fine, but…it’s so…gamey.” He gave a simple gesture for us to see his point.

Peter grinned. “So, make something else!” He said logically.

“I’ve already done the preparations. It’s ready to cook.” Boris said simply.

I nodded. “So? The guards outside are American. I’m sure they’d love it.”

Boris smiled at the thought and nodded. “Yes, I can do that!” He looked at us. “Can we put off this dinner, perhaps on Friday or Saturday? I need supplies and the stores are pretty much closed tomorrow.” He shrugged again. “The meal can be ready tomorrow as planned, we’ll simply invite our dear friends out there to come and enjoy it.”

“And we’ll have our men from inside stand in for them to give them more time to enjoy it,” Yuri said pleased.

“Sure, we can put it off. Have the first Makarovian Thanksgiving here!” I said bouncing at the idea. “You need supplies. We can wait. What are you going to prepare?”

Boris grinned. “No holiday can happen without Kutya.” (That’s a sweet dish, not a pudding exactly, but with berries, dried fruit, nuts, and honey in it. A lumpy pudding?)

I nodded smiling. “Isn’t that Russian?”

Boris looked mockingly offended. “It’s Ukrainian and Makarovian, too! Your grandmother knows it, I know that. Besides, we all descended from Russians!” Then he pointed at us. “But no throwing it to the ceiling to see if it sticks.”

Peter nudged me. “He’s got us with the Russian part.” He chuckled.

I smiled. “In my case…just a little.” I knew of the tradition sometimes we would see if there was a good harvest coming. “What else?”

“Vushka dumpling soup.” Boris grinned. (Stuffed mushrooms). “Breaded trout or some freshwater fish. Kapusta z Grochem (beans and sauerkraut), some Kolach (braided bread made of cloves, honey, and garlic) and Uzvar (a desert with again the fruits like apples, pears, sour cherries, raspberries, and others, and nuts.

I chuckled. “Aren’t those dishes served on Sviaty Vechir?” (Christmas Eve)

Boris nodded waving at my grandmother. “Yes, but your grandmother won’t be in Makarovia for Christmas so you won’t see her until you come back. Why not have Sviaty Vechir food now?”

Peter nodded hugging Boris. “Yuri set a wedding date for us. We’re marrying you two.”