The One Who Stole the Sky

I Promise

"What are you doing today?" Max asked Liesel as he threw off her sheets.

"Not quite sure. I'd like to eat some deviled eggs and a nice slice of bread with blackberry jam for breakfast though". Liesel gazed up at Max and began laughing.

"You ought to brush your hair first, birds must be building their nests in there!" Max pointed to Liesel, who felt her hair and tried to press it down.

"Don't you know Liesel, that you should be the one preparing things around the house, not me?" Max handed Liesel her brush from her vanity table.

"Well you are the one who can cook, especially deviled eggs. And it's not like I have a husband who I have to tend to, we are independent people living together, you know." Liesel waved her finger about at Max.

"Then why aren't you doing your bit of the work?"

There was silence as Liesel looked up at Max, and he looked down upon her.

"I'm not your wife." Liesel got out of her bed and began marching out of the room, only when she got to the doorframe she stopped and turned around.

"Maybe you should've thought about marriage before you start to order me around like one."

"Like one what?"

"A wife." Liesel left the room and went to go write a book summary for her class. She wrote for a good hour, often stopping to stare up out of the window, watching the sun rise, bringing bright orange life to a dead gray sky.

Max entered the room, his presence creating an odd tension pulling on both of them.

"Do you like it here?" Max asked.

Liesel breathed, put her paper off to her side, and looked up at Max.

"I do. Sometimes, though, I feel caged all over again. I cannot leave and be fine by myself. I will always need somebody there by my side. I have no money, no job. I am stuck here whether I'm enjoying myself or not." Liesel bites her lip and bounces her pencil against the table. Max comes and pulls up a chair beside her.

"I promise you I can fix that. I will make you free to go wherever you like. It is not fair to you that you are stuck here." Max tilts his head and pats her shoulder.

"Any luck with girls?" Liesel laughs as she decides to shift to a more lighthearted topic.

"Of course not." Max rolled his eyes and began to laugh too.

"I guess it is more difficult to find Jewish women these days, you know after what happened..." Liesel trailed off.

"Yes, Jews marry Jews. Jews have Jewish children. But I don't live by that. I may get spit upon because of my feelings, but I am not like all of the other ones."

"What makes you different than the rest then." Liesel wonders aloud.

"I don't believe that I have to marry a Jew because I am one, heck, I don't even pray anymore. I've lost touch with my religion, but what can I do about that." Max confessed. There was a long moment where the two just sat quietly next to each other, merely existing, as if they were just two other pieces of furniture in the room.

"I'll give you your dream." Max finally whispered.

"How?"

"In time you will see." Max nodded as he spoke. He sprang up from his chair and went to his studio table and easel. For a moment he stared blankly at the barren canvas he had purchased awhile ago.

"I need a classic, a-a timeless piece, something that looks convincing." He leaned back and grabbed a pencil. Lightly, he outlined shapes then erased, then outlined and erased again.

He stood up after awhile and stood back, examining the lines. Liesel took notice how tall and thin Max had been, being proven with suspenders constricting his small frame. She also noticed his frantic hair where locks disputed over their proper places. The moment was warm and relaxing, but alas, Max rushed to his paints and wedged multiple brushes between the bite of his mouth; jaw clenching tightly around the wooden handles. Obsessively he poured out globs of paint on his painter's palette and instantly began mixing. He had made a bright sandy yellow color.

Liesel sat at the couch with a book to read. She figured now was the best time, so she could focus and not be disturbed. Occasionally Liesel would look over at Max, unfortunately though, she could not see the painting from where she sat. The only noises that were made for a good two hours was the sigh from the book every time Liesel flipped the page, and the sharp sound each tube of paint being open made. And still they pursue what lay in front of them.

"Max, you're covered in paint." Liesel rolled her eyes. He looked at his hands and then his pants.

"Quite right I am." He set down his paints.

"It's on your face as well." The thought of having a break sounded good in Liesel mind, and so she marked her book and rested it on the coffee table. She went to go collect soap and a rag. Max followed her into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Liesel frowned into the medicine chest's mirror hanging on the wall.

"I don't want anyone to see my artwork, especially you." Max looked back into the mirror where he and Liesel made their talk. Liesel in response shook her head but smiled too, as she focused on lathering the soap onto a wet rag.

"May I have your clothes?" For this Liesel turned around and held out her hands. Max's face choked on embarrassment as his cheeks illuminated a deep red.

"Can I go to my room to change?" Max swallowed with a sand paper feel in his throat.

"If you must, but I need to put vinegar on everything now." Liesel rushed out to the kitchen and again, Max has followed. He unbuttoned his shirt and handed over to Liesel's care. Underneath he wore a white shirt with sleeves that remained shielded from the paint.

He handed over his trousers next. They were previously peeled from his body in his room, so he wore a fresh pair. Liesel scrubbed soap and vinegar into his clothes to lift the paint. After working until her tired hands could no longer move, the paint was lifted.

"You need a bath." Liesel confessed to Max. His face looked like that of a Native American warrior- it bore red and blue, black and yellow.

"I wonder how it got on my face." Max touched his face all over feeling the dried paint in little streaks.

"I am going to take a bath as you said." Max walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After his water was done running, Liesel went into his room to layout a set of pajamas, then made her way to the bathroom door and slipped her back down the door until she sat. For this time she felt happy, and put her head up against the door, face facing outward, and closed her eyes. The radio played the soothing slow songs that the 40's had claimed. Liesel smiled to the air and moved her mouth to the words.