Chapter 11

Benthe had me sit at the kitchen table as Lana got a bowl of warm water, then hurried to get several clean rags and bandages.

Boris came from the cold cellar carrying four bottles. Two were wine for dinner, and two were beers. He opened the beers, handing me one, and we touched bottles.

“Dit vraagt om een speciale viering! Richard, ik weet niet hoe ik je ooit kan terugbetalen voor het redden van mijn leven.”

“This calls for a special celebration! Richard, I don’t know how I can possibly ever repay you for saving my life.”

“Vanavond, ik denk dat we ons kunnen veroorloven om wat varkensvlees, aardappelen en greens hebben.”

“Tonight, I think we can afford to have some pork, potatoes, and greens,” Benthe stated.

Benthe examined my new head wound, that intersected my old one. Dabbing drying blood away, she could see the buillet had creased my skull. I knew what going to happen as she retrieved her sewing kit. She used a pair of scissors to shorten the hair around my wound. Lana held my hand and I bit into a cloth to tolerate the pain as Benthe sewed my scalp.

Lana took a dampened cloth and gently patted my wound. Her facial expressions showed how concerned and sympathetic she was for me. She dabbed some iodine and bandaged my head wound.

Lana went to her room and soon appeared wearing the same light blue dress and matching bodice. What drew my attention again was the low scoop of her button blouse, the bodice supporting her breasts to show me considerable cleavage. She smiled shyly, appreciating my returning smile of approval. Benthe returned from her room, also wearing a bodice and blouse that showed me plenty of cleavage.

Benthe noticed me rubbing my forehead, figuring I had a headache. She had me lay on the couch, placing a cool cloth across my head. Lana had me lift and sat so I could use her lap as a pillow. She held me hand and rubbed my chest, saying soothing words I didn’t understand. She hummed a song, massaging my temples and I drifted off to sleep.

The kitchen soon filled with the delicious aroma of cooking food. I woke up, feeling better. Lana sat close to me, cautiously holding my hand. When Boris left the room or Benthe had her back to them, she’d steal several kisses. She’d smile at me as I appreciated the side profile of her revealing breasts.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Boris uncorked a bottle of wine, honouring me with the first glass. He lifted his crystal glass, and we all touched together.

“Dank u, mijn zoon, ik zal voor altijd in uw schuld voor het redden van mijn leven. Op Hitler en het Derde Rijk. Mogen ze snel omkomen! Hier! Hier!”

“Thank you, my son, I will be forever in your debt for saving my life. Here’s to Hitler and the Third Reich. May they soon perish! Here! Here!”