The Ostrich's Grief

Georg quietly walked into the hotel suite. The bedroom door was open, and from it came a faint light. He kicked off his shoes and noiselessly walked across the plush-carpeted room. He stopped at the foot of the king-sized bed. Only the light from his bedside lamp illuminated the room. He cautiously approached her as she lay in bed. She was buried under the sheets wearing a white silk nightgown. Her blond hair shimmering in the light from his bedside lamp made her look like the angel that she was.

Georg gingerly sat at the edge of the bed next to her, and stroked her hair and her cheek. She was laying on her side not looking at him. Her face was scrubbed clean but her eyes were still red.

"Wait up for me?" he asked. Maria nodded, silent. "I'm going to change and then we'll talk." He bent down, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and rose. "I'll be right back."

Georg entered the bathroom and flicked on the lights. He was shocked to see how disheveled his reflection in the mirror looked. Georg reached for the faucet and splashed cold water over his face and smoothed his hair back. He stood for a long time in front of the mirror considering his reflection. He hated the man that stood before him. He used to look in the mirror and feel both pride and a great sense of self. He did not have that anymore. All the mirror showed him was an old man past his prime who had made many mistakes. Does he dare show that man to his wife? Does he dare show the woman who he loved more than life itself the broken, tortured man that lived behind the mask that he carefully created? Does he dare admit that all promises he made to himself and to her he did not keep? Does he dare reveal that the illusion he had lived for his entire life was a mirage. To save his marriage does he dare to be something he never was?

Once he changed into his pajamas, Georg climbed into bed and turned off the lights. He kept his distance from Maria as he crossed his arms under the covers. He felt himself shake and he needed to steady himself. Although the room was dark, Georg could feel her eyes on him. They had left the curtains open and the moonlight spilled onto the bed casting eerie shadows in the room.

His voice came suddenly though the dark, and he started speaking without prompt: "I regained consciousness in the car on the way back to Salzburg. I didn't know if you and the children were alive and I feared the worst. I'm never an optimist; I feared for your life and hated myself for my stupidity. They took me to a cell in Salzburg; it became instantly clear to me that Zeller was going to be brutal to me."

Georg could still feel her eyes on him, but he did not look at her. Instead he lay staring at the ceiling, hugging himself with his arms. The tone of his voice was monotone, devoid of all emotion.

"They took me to cellar and beat me, starved me, humiliated me. They deprived me of sleep-they deprived me of anything that made me feel human. Zeller would sometimes come and watch them make a spectacle of me; he, with his sadistic mind, enjoyed watching it. He enjoyed watching them...torture me." He said flatly.

Maria wanted to reach for him and hold him, but she was scared that if she touched him, if she even uttered a sound he would stop talking. As much as she wanted to comfort him, she knew Georg had to talk: he had to say what happened to him.

"The worst they did were the mind games they would play on me. Daily they toyed with my sanity, with vague insinuations about what happened to you and the children. They never told me 'yes' or 'no,' alive or dead. It was a question left unanswered and left hanging in the air. I realize now that it was part of the plan: to destroy me physically and mentally before actually killing me. Zeller made me hate myself, loath myself like I never hated myself before. And he had a point.

"I gave up everything that I really held dear for a country – for a past that no longer existed. I was always ready to give up my life for the empire. I believed I was building a future for my children and generations to come. I did not mind if my life was sacrificed for them, for I'd rather lose mine so that they could live a better life. But Zeller spoke the truth, and perhaps that was what was so difficult, because that mad-man saw what I didn't see: By opposing the Anschluss, by opposing the new Austria, I had sacrificed all I held dear for a country that was no more. Months ago he called me an ostrich, and he was proven right. I was the fool. I had buried my head in the sand and I feared that you all paid the price for my stupidity.

"I eventually lost track of time and space. I did not know what day it was or what time. I only knew night and day, but it seemed like it was always night. It was always cold, and it was always winter. It was frigid and dark when Zeller came to see me, to personally tell me that you and the children were dead. I believed him, and, in a way, whatever I was, whatever dignity I had left, died that night; and he would do his best to strip me of whatever I had left. At that moment I no longer existed, I was alive only because my body had yet refused to die, but I knew my end would come soon, very soon.

"A few hours later – maybe days I don't know – they took me to my villa. All I felt was cold. Cold because I was dressed only in a tattered shirt, and cold because I had nothing left to live for. They had the cruelty to take me to my house, my home, my castle. All I could think of was my family: you, the children...Agathe. All of the memories I had of that place and all I held dear there."

Georg's voice was now shaking; there was venom in his words. He still stared straight ahead at the ceiling, but Maria saw his profile change. His face was contorted with barely suppressed rage.

"There were people there at the villa, people I once called my friends. People I respected and who respected me. In front of the most affluent Austrians in my own home, they beat me…they flogged me in the most brutal way. They whipped me …like some petty criminal … then they left me there to die. Those were the scars you saw on my back the night before Maxim was born.

"I was so...I...I so wanted to die…" His voice cracked as he said these words.

"Somehow I regained my senses and found the strength to get to my study. The villa was pitch black but I knew my way in the dark. I went to my desk and retrieved a gun from the bottom drawer. It was my first, the first gun I ever got in the navy. I always kept the bullets hidden in a separate place in case the children ever got a hold of it, even though they knew they were forbidden to touch my drawers."

He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, and with difficulty he continued. "I fumbled in the dark as I tried to load the gun...had Max not shown up when he did…" His voice trailed. "I would have done it... I would have placed the barrel of the gun in my mouth... and just pull the trigger...one bullet straight to the brain... quick and painless... a coward's death."

Georg started laughing suddenly, in a manic way that chilled Maria to her bones. "I try to convince myself that I would never have killed my self, that I am not that type of coward, or at least that my ego is too inflated for that. I've come up with every excuse in the world. But no matter how hard I try I cannot deny that I would have done it: I would have killed myself."

He finally turned to Maria. His eyes were so clear with unshed tears that they looked white. "Now, my sweet wife, how can I ever expect you to bear to look at me…when I can barely look at myself?"

Georg suddenly flung his covers off himself and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He felt this frantic and desperate need to run. But Maria, even from her position on the bed, was quick enough to grab him from behind and keep him on the bed. She clutched his arms tightly and rested her head against his back. His breathing was erratic and he was trying in vain to control his emotions and his breathing, despite the large lump that was in his throat that was threatening to choke him.

Maria continued to hold onto him, as if for dear life: that if she would let go now she would somehow lose him forever. She suddenly became aware that his nightshirt was wet from her tears. His own breathing had started to gradually calm.

Maria reached around him and from behind started undoing the buttons of his night shirt. He brought his hand to try to stop her, but she gently and yet firmly placed them at his side. She continued unbutton his shirt and removed it. In the pale light of the moon, she saw the scars on his back: the marks of his suffering. She gently fingered the scars and felt his whole body tense under her touch.

Very slowly, she started kissing his back. Her lips grazed every scar, every portion of his back that was subjected to the brutal whipping he'd received. She could not erase his pain and his suffering, but she could show him that she understood, that she was not repulsed by him, and that she still loved him no matter how shattered and broken he may feel.

A small sob escaped Georg's throat. Feeling Maria's lips on his back was the final straw. He could no longer suppress the pain he'd held in for so many months – he could no longer suppress his tears, and they came down fast and furious. His whole body was now shaking, but Maria continued to kiss each and every scar till Georg collapsed in her arms. He buried his head in her chest and continued to cry. Never would either of them have imagined that Georg would break down like this, but as Maria caressed him in her lap, it was clear that he needed to cry and that he needed to finally let out all the pain he felt.

"I thought you were dead!" He sobbed. "I was such a fool, such a stupid, stupid fool!"

He continued to lay in Maria's arms as she caressed his dark head. Eventually his breathing became steady and the tears subsided. But he did not raise his head or leave Maria's arms. He felt safe in her embrace and it was a feeling that he had not felt in a long time.

They continued to lay together for a long time in the darkness; neither was willing to break the spell by talking, and neither was willing to let go of the other.

Maria felt Georg's breathing become even, and she looked down at him. His eyes were closed and it seemed that he had fallen asleep – exhausted and emotionally spent.

But as tired as Maria was, she could not sleep. Instead, she settled down next Georg and watched him while thinking about all he'd told her. She appreciated all he told her and she understood why he'd tried to hide is humiliation from her. Did he really think she would view him as a coward for what he suffered? Maria knew that Georg was prideful, but she couldn't believe that he could feel so insecure and to foolishly think that her love for him would be somehow unhinged. She loved him as much or even more than when she first met him. She would tell him, but how?

Maria hoped that tonight would be the first step to healing. That hopefully Georg could come to accept the past. In a way, a part of Georg had died and tonight was the first night that he ever grieved for that loss. Somehow Maria would have to find a way to help him as he healed. Somehow she would have to find a way to help him leave the past buried behind them and look towards the future.

But will I succeed?