Johannes In Love

By Mark S. Bowne

for Meike with thanks

The lovers slept. Rocked to sleep by the gentle motion of the train as it moved swiftly along the tracks. Swiftly through the night. With the First Class compartment totally to themselves they slept intertwined. A half empty bottle of French red wine, corked sat on the floor. The ruby liquid mimicked the movement of the train itself. A baguette and a wooden container of Brie cheese lay on the seat across from the sleeping lovers.

Johannes woke. His eyes fluttered open. Lips curled into a smile. The weight of the body on top of him, intertwined with his, was familiar. Was comfortable. Gently, he stroked his lover's long blond hair. Touched his scruffy face with his own nicotine stained fingers. He slid from beneath his sleeping man, careful not to disturb him. His handsome lover stirred, but did not wake.

The tall Johannes gazed affectionately at the quiet body and smiled again. He bent down, kissed him then left the compartment, the door clicked soft behind him. He strode down the passageway, his slim form confident as the train moved. He glanced out the windows as he passed. The intense light of the full moon upon fresh show caught his eye. He stopped when the train whistle blew.

He looked out the frosted window as the front of the train disappeared into the tunnel. It seemed as if for a moment that the engine disappeared directly into the mouth of the mountain. Became part of the mountain. Situated in the rear, he watched as the lead cars rounded the curved track and entered. Fascinated, he lowered the window to lean out. The cold winter air assaulted his face. His ears stung red.

The outside world turned black once they entered. The noise of the train intensified. He held his breath unconsciously. Waited. Entombed within the mere seconds it took to pass through. The train whistle blew again as the engine exited. The moonlight reappeared, this time distorted by snowfall.

Johannes exhaled visible breath. Sky scraping evergreen trees: firs, spruces, pines, hemlocks were powdered with a heavy burden of snow. The weight bent their branches low as if to welcome with a bow. He imagined himself beneath them. Walked through the pristine snow. A blank canvas. He laughed as he pulled a branch. A miniature avalanche covered his naked head. Fell between his neck and the collar of his wool winter coat. He marched deep into the Black Forest as the drifts were high. The moon no longer visible. But somehow it managed still to illuminate the snow. He smelled the scent of Christmas morning.

Alone within this beauty he fell onto his back and made an angel. His wings wide. Wide as a child's eyes with the wonder of discovery. The discovery of himself. Of love.

The train whistled yet again and brought Johannes back to himself. Not yet wanting to leave, the train already leaving behind... he smoked a cigarette as the landscape disappeared from his reach. Pocketing the butt, he walked to the WC and relieved himself. His original purpose.

His lover woke as he re-entered their compartment. He stirred and sat up.

"Are you alright?" his sleepy lover asked in muttered German.

"Yes. Bathroom, that's all," he replied.

"But you were gone so long."

"Was I? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Your absence woke me," his lover admitted. He reached out and touched Johannes' face. It was as cold as ice. "But you're so cold. We must get you warm," he smiled.

Johannes pulled his lover to his lips and kissed him. He slid down next to him. Intertwined his legs with the man he loved. Their prone bodies shifted to fit on the narrow bench seat. As he lay underneath the familiar weight of his beloved, he smiled. Soon, they slept and the train traveled on.