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A strong breeze of winter air blows over my neck, and I shrug the collar of my coat up. It’s nothing unusual for a February in Vicksburg, yet even after all these years, I haven’t gotten used to it. Hell, I’m twenty years old, and the bipolar temperatures of this Mississippian hell still bother me. As soon as I get the funds, I’m moving as close to the sun as I can. Maybe I’ll go to Texas. Texas is warm. Texas is nice.  

I curse under my breath as I shiver, and I pull my sleeves down over my hands. I can’t help but think it’s too cold to be out, but here I am, doing this anyway. I couldn’t imagine not. I refuse to give up that easily. I would rather freeze to death than give up. 

I take a quick look over my shoulder before turning into the next alleyway. At first, I can’t see shit, but after a moment, my eyes start to adjust. I make out the figure standing at the end of the path, and I am overjoyed to see her.  

Mary Kleinfeld runs to me instantly, throwing herself in my arms and clinging to me desperately. I hold her close to me and savor her warmth—her nice, needed warmth. I squeeze her tenderly and tuck my nose into her luscious light brown hair, inhaling deeply. It comforts me beyond all belief, and in that moment, I think to myself, And this is why I will say ‘I do.’ 

She leans away from me and meets my eyes, searching them for some solace of any kind.  

“Are you alright?” I ask her. 

She shakes her head quickly then buries her head into my chest again. I place a hand on the back of her head and stroke her hair down gently.  

“I can’t stand this, Gunther,” she says, muffled by my coat. 

“I know, but it’s all we can do.” 

“It mustn’t be. This … is not right. We can’t keep sneaking around like this,” she whimpers, looking up. 

“I know. I will figure something out.” 

“Oh, Gunther. Oh, I do love you. I want a life with you.” 

“And I feel the same, Mary.” 

“We will just have to find a way to be together.” 

“I will figure something out.” 

“Gunther, oh, Gunther,” she repeats in distress. “We can’t keep doing this. We’ll get caught, and then he’ll never let me marry you.” 

“Your father won’t let me marry you anyway, so what more can be done?” I ask, bringing my hand down to rest on her soft cheek. “We may not be able to do more than meet in secret like this, but please don’t barter for less. I need to see you.” 

Her green eyes soften and gloss over. “Gunther.” 

“I know,” I respond automatically, pulling her into my embrace once more. 

“Fight against my father then,” she begs. “Please.” 

“I—” 

“Fight or negotiate. He’s a reasonable man; I promise.” 

“Reasonable … my ass. He is not reasonable,” I cringe. 

“He’s traditional.” 

I huff and let go of Mary. I turn and pace for a second, thinking. Then, I face Mary again. “I can’t talk to him. You saw the way he reacted to my proposal. If he’d yelled any louder, I would’ve thought him to be an ape.” 

Mary reaches forward and lightly hits the side of my arm despite the repressed smile on her face. “Don’t make me laugh; it’s not funny. That’s my father you’re talking about.” 

I chuckle softly and open my stance up to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, but in light of his apparent opinions about our marriage, I doubt he’s open to mediation.” 

“It’s worth a try, don’t you think?” 

I pass her a skeptical glance and bring my thumb up to my lips, nibbling on it slightly. “I can’t see how it would matter.” 

She sighs. “Then we must think of something!” 

I stare at her for a second or two, debating on whether or not I should suggest the idea that has been lurking in my mind since the start of this all. I decide that things could only get worse from here, so to hell with it!  

“We could run away,” I blurt out. 

“What?” 

I step forward more confidently and grab both of her hands in mine. “Run away with me.” 

She yanks herself away from my touch. “No! No, not that. That’s cowardice.” 

“It’s desperation.” 

“Yes, all the more reason not to.” 

“I beg to differ.” 

“Then beg,” she commands sarcastically, and it catches me pleasantly off guard. 

I smile in awe. “Then what would you like me to do?” 

She hesitates, “I have a theory.” 

“And?” 

“If you convert—” 

“No.” 

“Gunther, just listen.” 

“No, I will not convert. I stand by my faith in Christ.” 

“Gunther!” 

“What?” I ask, raising my voice considerably. I don’t mean to yell; I don’t mean to scare her. I apologize promptly.  

Ignoring the whole ordeal, Mary takes a deep breath in and speaks softly. “Please just consider it.” 

Despite my resentment, I do listen. I will consider it. For her. I don’t promise anything, but I make a mental note to at least explore the idea for a minimum of five minutes. I don’t say anything more to her on this topic, and I can tell she takes my silence as hope. Her beautiful green eyes sparkle as they dilate, reflecting the little sunlight pouring into the corners of the dark alleyway. It strikes something in me, triggering feelings of satisfaction and rewarding me for my obedience to her will. Scientifically, she has me wrapped around her finger, but I enjoy it here. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  

I reach forward and place my relatively rough hand on the side of her face; she leans into it naturally.  

“Okay,” I concede, and the corner of her lip shifts just the slightest amount, a tiny movement that means so much.  

I’ve made her happy. 

 

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- 

 

I sit in silence with my eyebrows scrunched together and my gaze fixated on one point. If it is possible to procrastinate thinking, then I am doing that at this exact moment. I’m doing everything to put off considering Mary’s suggestion, including this.  

I flick my wrist just enough and let go of the pen in my hand. I watch as it arches perfectly and lands squarely on top of James’s head. Immediately he reacts by yelping and ducking his head down to shield it from any further barrage. Of course, there is none, and he just twists around to glare at me.  

“Gunther!” 

“James!” I mimic. 

“Why’d you do that?” he whines rubbing the top of his head. 

I shrug nonchalantly. “Just felt like it, I guess. Get out of my room.” 

James scrunches his nose up and shuts the book in his hand, placing it behind him on my bed. “Why?” 

“Because I said so. Now, go,” I sigh, turning around in my chair to face my desk.  

“What’s the matter? You hardly ever like to be alone unless you’re trying to concentrate on something, and you have no work out, so...” 

I glance behind me and give him a look of disgust. “Stop analyzing me.” 

“Academics are your thing; emotions are mine. I can’t help but analyze you. It’s just what I do,” James says while getting up from my bed and walking over to my desk. “And I also can’t help but notice that, although your marriage proposal was rejected, you’re doing fine, meaning you’re still seeing the Kleinfeld girl.” 

I roll my eyes as my brother turns to casually lean back against the desktop.  

“How right am I?” 

“You already know the answer to that.” 

“Yeah, but call me a rooster because pride is my sin.” 

I scoff and brush him off of my furniture. “Yes, I am still seeing her. I’m trying to find a way to win her father over.” 

James smiles. “Well, if anyone could win him over, it’d be you. You’re the scholar of this family after all.” 

I nod my head absent-mindedly and bring my thumb between my lips. “Thanks,” I mumble. 

I hear James inhale deeply from beside me as he stares at me, but I don’t look up to meet his gaze. It’s purposeful. If I look at him, he’ll find interest to stay. He’ll pick at my feelings to strike up conversation, and I’d rather not right now. Thankfully, my plan works, and James surrenders.  

“Okay, okay, I’ll go now,” he says walking away from me, “but you best bet that I’m asking about this later.” 

“Please don’t.” 

He doesn’t say anything more; he only laughs quietly to himself as he leaves. Then finally I have some time to myself. 

To convert or not to convert? That is the question.  

Is my faith really that important to me? I wonder, leaning back to stare up at my ceiling fan. Is it more important than Mary? 

What part has faith even played in my life? I was taught it in school, and my family has never been to church. My mother is religious, but she doesn’t show it. I only know because I accidentally stumbled upon her rosary beads once. My father is a complete mystery though, but I am supposing from the lack of religious presence in this household that it isn’t a shared activity between my parents. How the hell they ever fell in love is astounding to me. They seem like puzzle pieces, only they don’t quite fit right together, but it works. The picture is still complete, and they're together. 

Mary and I are vastly different from my parents. It’s blatantly obvious how we found affection for each other. She grew up down the road from me, and I’ve always thought her to be rather beautiful. She is kind and generous and the saintliest person I’ve ever met. If God were to open His gates to anyone, it would be to her. She constantly amazes me, and we’re so perfect together. She’s the emotion to my logic and the spontaneous to my habit. She brings this light into my life that I never would have known otherwise. She’s all I really need and all I’ll ever want. 

What good is my faith if I wouldn’t be happy without her? What good is my faith if I’ve never practiced anyway? What good is my faith when it has only been taught to me and never explored personally? What good is my faith when it is nothing more than routine—phrases that I only recite from memory and not passion? 

What good is my life without Mary? 

Doesn’t that give me my answer right there?