A Dark Song of Blood by Ben Pastor Page A

confronted him. “The reason is notthat you’re maimed.” She saw the blood rush to his face at her words and justified herself. “Well, you have lost a hand.” Her voice rose in defense, trembling a little. “I had made up my mind even before that. And it really doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re the one who is stoic, I’m not. I don’t take adversities well, you know I don’t. I don’t even like them, and walk away from them. You never asked me if I’d grown tired of waiting, and I’m sick of it.”
    “Do you think I have control over this war?”
    “Then you shouldn’t have married me. You know I lose interest quickly. Had you any sense, you would have understood.” She grabbed clothes out of the suitcase, crushing them in hand. Breathlessly, she gave him no room to speak. “I always had fun in my life, and I always got what I wanted. You knew all that before you married me. You knew it. The war has ruined everything, and you’ve been in it from the start. I’m sure you like it. More power to you, go ahead and like your war, but don’t ask me to be a part of it. Why should I be sacrificed, when I don’t even believe in sacrifices? Why should I? I have too much to live for, Martin. I do. I can’t be caught in a marriage until this is over.”
    That she could keep from crying was incredible to him, because Bora felt torn apart.
    “You wanted to marry!”
    “It was something to do. Everybody got married in those days. But the war was supposed to end in months, not five years!”
    Bora sensed the intolerable uselessness of words even as he spoke them. “How have I failed you, other than I had to be away – and you knew I would, you knew when you married me that I was a career man and would be gone. I spent every moment of leave with you, I wrote to you every day I physically could, even from Russia. I’ve been faithful to you these five years, for God’s sake. I lived to see you again, no matter what happened!”
    He could see now what the hardness in her eyes had meant, what their brightness meant to him. “Well, pity it was allone-sided and I never agreed to it. Or if I said I did, I didn’t mean it, which is the same, and you’re an intelligent man, you should have seen through it.” She stood, staring him down. “And don’t say you didn’t have lovers; men always do when they go to war. If you didn’t, it’s still not enough. In five years we spent two or three months together, and not all at once. What kind of marriage is that? I never cared for long-distance affairs. I can’t accept them. I realize you love me and it makes it difficult, but it’s done and you will just have to face reality as you always do.”
    Bora could not remember a time he’d raised his voice with her. “How can you tell me I have to face this well ?” he shouted. “You goddamn well know I’m not going to take this well! We haven’t even talked it over; what about what I have to say? You can’t just decide for both of us on your own!”
    “I have.” She was unfolding a document, and laid it on the quilts for him to pick up. “Mother called from her winter house in Lisbon. That’s where I’m going next. I’m only here for the paperwork.”
    Bora would not touch the paper, nor look at it. “Would you stay had I not been wounded?”
    “It’s a hypothetical question – there’s no such alternative.”
    “But I must know, by God! Would you stay?”
    “Maybe. But that can’t be helped, you see?” She again sat on the bed, her altered profile barely visible to him. “It’d have been better had you died. For both of us. Had you died I wouldn’t have to go through all this. I’m trying to be nice about it, but you make it so difficult by not accepting it as you should if you were sensible.”
    “I’m sorry I didn’t die.”
    And it was no use saying more, because logic had nothing to do with this except for what she wanted. What she wanted was not him, and it was all there was. Loyalty