The Russians are Coming!, 14 Months in the Life of the Town

«She’s just a moral woman,» he whispered, suffering with the despair of the situation. «She has to think about the reputation of her family. I’m sure, if she were free…»

Jeff tried to force himself not to think about Vera, but he was unsuccessful. He closed his eyes, and her strange snow-white face stood in his mental view. He yearned to hug her, to feel her slender refined body. For only one kiss of her thin purple lips, he was ready to die.

«Vera,» he repeated, taking pleasure from that sound and tormented at the same time. «Vera…»

* * * * *

…They slowly made their way together along the edge of the summer forest. On the left side a plain stretched to the skyline. Hot yet tender sunshine washed over the young couple.

Jeff walked holding a primitive cotton bag. A bottle of water, a few oranges, and a loaf of bread were inside. It was all their food and neither knew when they would be able to get anything else, but it was no matter for them.

Somehow Jeff was not surprised seeing Vera wearing a strange dress. This indigo robe with a deep décolleté, fleecy and lacy, looked very elegant and expensive, but absolutely out of date.

They reached a barn, and sat on the porch. Jeff looked at Vera with an elated smile; she was his mistress, and she loved him, and they both knew and enjoyed it.

He took out an orange, peeled it, and broke it into segments. He held one out to Vera, and, closing her eyes, the woman took it with her lips, holding and sucking his fingers as well, and, overloaded with desire, they uttered a simultaneous quiet moan.

* * * * *

The beaming sun peeped through the small window of the barn, stealthily spying upon them making love on the fluffy pile of aromatic hay. The magic fragrance of the dried grass made them drunk, increasing the pleasure beyond reality, and some straws pricking their bodies stimulated them like a spur drives a horse.

Panting with overflowing delight Jeff was close to that magic line when nothing exists except the enjoyment when he heard a worried voice, and saw a black girl wearing a very old-fashioned gown.

«They found us,» she said uneasily. «You have to run.»

* * * * *

Helping each other, they ran, struggling through a marshland forest along the bank of a river. The ground was swampy, and Vera ran holding the edge of her very long dark blue skirt.

Looking at her superannuated dress and being clothed himself in a wide shirt and cotton pants, Jeff wondered, «Why are we wearing this?» But another worry pushed this thought aside.

They heard dogs barking behind them, and they knew the hounds had come upon their tracks. They did not have much time.

The thorny branches of the bushes, lianas and brushwood, shrubs and ferns were catching their clothes, making their trail into a nightmare. Every passing yard asked the maximum strain of their decreasing strength.

They had already abandoned the bag with the food and water. A tree branch tore Vera’s blue hat off, but she did not stop. She did not lose even a second of their valuable, diminishing time. She was still running full out, and the chestnut mane of her beautiful hair seemed like wings on her shoulders.

Glimpsing the brave face of his sweetheart with anxiety and helpless compassion, Jeff nevertheless felt sincere veneration. Exhausted, she neither complained nor faltered. She ran as fast as she could, and it was not her fault that the relentless barking was getting closer.

The dying vermilion light of the sunset lit up a glade.