The One Who Stole the Sky

A Red Scare

"Hallo, Max." Charlie made her appearance known to him as she loudly introduced herself to the table. Max did not want her here and neither did Liesel, though the both of them bit their tongues.

"Yes, Hallo Charlie." Not even Max, her mentor, had engaged in further conversation. It was awkward to think about that scandalous day, in her doorway, while his dearest friend sat clueless beside him. His body crawled with guilt at the thought of how Charlie forced herself on to him days ago. Her large eyes wondered over to Liesel who sat with hers lowered to the table.

"And are you Liesel? Max can never seem to stop talking about you." Abrasively, Charlie commented as to make the social situation grow more uncomfortable. Blood rushed to Liesel's face rapidly as jealousy rushed to Charlie's. Max squirmed in his seat; his heart caught in his mouth.

"Oh, is that so?" Immediately rising to her feet and offering a handshake, Liesel peered down at her friend who glistened with a waxy sickness.

"Indeed. You are very lucky to have him." It was true, Liesel was lucky to have him. But the way Charlie spoke and swayed her hips in her dress made Liesel irritated. Never the violent type, Liesel wanted to spew words of hate at this other woman or even hit her. Either would do just fine.

"Yes, but I'd say he is lucky to have me too." Liesel's glossy lips parted elegantly to show a feminism Charlie had failed to express, and would certainly win over a gentleman's affection. At this bold statement, Max coughed on his ice water.

"A woman should always be second; a man is the head of the house, don't you agree Max?" Charlie batted her precious eyes at the dark-featured gentleman to feed Liesel's negative emotions.

"I cannot say. I value a genuine equality between the sexes, if the women can prove themselves. If you give women a chance to attend college and find work, and if they are proficient in these areas, it is nearly impossible to want to denounce them. Women can be just as smart as men." The two women listening in were shocked at the view that had been displayed. Charlie tried to recover from her attempt at making herself seem like a fantastic housewife, but could only stammer and stutter.

"Why don't you tell Charlie about your experiences. Certainly you are a model for many women out there." Max welcomed a small side salad set in front of him to start off the evening. As for Liesel, she was not hungry quite yet.

"It is nothing really. I attended a college only for a year or two before dropping out. Now, I am an author. In fact, my book is to be released tomorrow morning. Do pick up a copy if you get the chance." Brutality did not hide itself in the mouth of such a slender lady today. The blonde, round-faced woman who stood before Charlie owned her feelings. No one attempted to drag on the conversation any longer. Eventually Charlie dismissed herself from their presence, but of course she strained to make herself noticeable to Max upon her departure from their table.

"And she is the woman you have been working with all this time?" Liesel rolled her eyes then set them back on her foe dressed in a skimpy red dress across the room. A waiter stopped by to take Max's salad bowl and offer Liesel an alcoholic drink. She coldly declined that as well.

"Unfortunately it is." Without skipping a beat, Max poked around at the butter set at the table for the bread. Liesel shook her head in disbelief again, as if it would change the circumstances of the situation.

"She's intoxicating." A casual eye movement from Liesel signaled Max to search the crowd in the corner. There, Charlie easily gathered a swarm of young, foolish gentlemen around her with fake smiles.

"We should enjoy ourselves now, right? You're book is to be released tomorrow and today we are here, celebrating my painting." An awfully optimistic view of the world was rather disinteresting to Liesel. There were always to be faults and accidents placed throughout life. It was worse to view the world in this way, Liesel thought, because you make yourself vulnerable to a bleak life you never believed could happen. Trying to forget about Charlie was impossible, for she shook the entire room with her booming laughter in which ten men answered back in a quiet, refined manner. She seemed to be optimistic, but for all of the wrong reasons. Herr Getz made his entrance into the room and immediately wedged himself into Charlie's band of aristocratic men. He, too, fell under the spell of the venomous woman as the other men did.

"You know, I still never read your book or even got the chance to help you with it." In an attempt to guide Liesel's prying eyes away, Max quickly thought to comment on something that should take her mind off of this girl she considered "competition".

"That is because I do not want you to read it. It is very personal to me, you know that. If you ever read it I don't know what I'd do." Color diffused in Liesel's cheeks as she felt rude for taking something away from Max that he wanted so badly. But she simply couldn't stand even the thought of her friend reading her own words. This was the only issue Liesel knew she would have with being published for the general public. Of course she couldn't take away his right to purchase her book and read it in secret, and if he did then that was fair, she reasoned, as long as she never knew he possessed it.

"Why can I not read it? Is it not about the war and your thoughts during those strenuous days? I would like to know how you felt. I would like to see the war from the point of view of a shy, little girl of thirteen with a fresh outlook on the world. Now that would be something." Eager to get his hands on a copy, Max imagined what his friend's novel would be about, but all of his guesses fell short of the true story.

"You shouldn't read it. It'll bring back terrible memories." Liesel was set to shutdown Max's desires with a stretch of the truth. She couldn't lie, yet she found herself doing exactly that; all for what, because she did not want to receive his criticism?

"If you do not want me to read it, then I won't." Max concluded the conversation with harsh disgust. He longed to see what a decent year or two at university did to Liesel. Maybe she would become the most notable author of this time. None of the fame mattered, but it was a thought Max envisioned with great content. Liesel went to speak, but Herr Getz was beginning his toast to the party in the center of the room where covered canvases sat. Without hesitation, he began revealing the paintings and talking about each one. The artists were invited to speak a few words on behalf of their creations and at the end of each there was an easy clap expressed in the audience.

"This painting is a surprise for all of us. Most of us are familiar with the rising painter, Max Vanderburg: The German Picasso. He undertook an apprentice for this painting, Charlie Schnetzer- an art student currently studying Art History. Together, with their compatible styles and visions, we welcome their collaboration piece." The audience clung to the edge of their seats. Max was preparing a small speech in his head as he stood up at his table. Herr Getz pulled the heavy tarp off of the canvas on the center of the stage. Everyone's eyes were horrified and quirked at the artwork glistening in the spotlight. This was not the watercolor piece he and Charlie had been working on. This was the Communist piece, distastefully mocking the expanding power of the Russians, Chinese, and many other countries. Some of the audience turned and looked at Max for what felt like hours. Cold, clammy, and wet, Max tugged Liesel up from her chair.

"We have to leave right now."