Sydney Carton's Belgian Adventure: Part I
Sydney Carton had just quit his job. He had worked for the bombastic C.J. Stryver, attorney at law, for years before he finally told him to sod off and find someone else to do his work for him. Stryver always took all the credit for their victories in court, but in reality Sydney was the brains of the operation. Stryver's job essentially consisted of sitting in a chair drinking while while criticizing Sydney for drinking. Sydney would plan out the argument before going into court, and then Stryver would stand up and say whatever Sydney told him to say, like a puppet. Everyone thought Stryver was a genius and Sydney was just his alcoholic friend who would sit in court sleeping or sneaking swigs from a bottle of wine, and Sydney did not have a problem with that until recently.
Stryver, who was several years older, had befriended Sydney when they were in school. Sydney lacked self confidence and had no friends, so he followed Stryver around because he had nothing else to do. Even then, Stryver took advantage of Sydney, making him do his homework for him. Sydney never really liked Stryver, but he continued to be friends with him because he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding new friends. Ever since Sydney had stopped drinking, Stryver had started seeming even more annoying to him. Stryver's incompetence and oblivious nature had somehow seemed endearing to Sydney when he was under the influence of wine. When he was sober, he realized how awful Stryver really was. When Stryver praised the wicked French nobles while casually saying that the poor should be exterminated, Sydney decided that he could not take it anymore. He walked out of Stryver's office, leaving him with notes that he was not intelligent enough to comprehend. Sydney laughed as he imagined how Stryver would make a fool of himself in court the next day. His career, once so promising, was about to take a dive.
Sydney was in a bit of a pickle himself. He did not regret leaving that poisonous friendship, but he had no idea what he would do for income. Stryver did not pay him nearly as much as he deserved, but he didn't have many opportunities for employment. He doubted that he could find a job in law, even though he possessed the most brilliant mind in all of London. No one had any respect for him, and Stryver would probably bad mouth him to all the other lawyers he knew.
He walked to his friend Lucie's house to tell her the news and ask for her help. She would be proud of him for finally quitting, and hopefully would be able to help him look for a new job. She had seen through Stryver immediately and knew that Sydney was the one with the real talent. If he could find a respectable job and continued to stay sober, he would finally be worthy of her. Of course she was in love with someone else, married with a kid, so his transformation would be several years too late. He was happy to be her friend, but that was all he would ever be. He briefly reflected on how depressing his life was before knocking on her door.
"I quit my job," Sydney said when Lucie opened the door.
"Charles quit his life," Lucie responded, holding out a letter. "This came this morning. I'm freaking out."
Sydney took the letter. It was from Lucie's husband, former aristocrat Charles Darnay.
Dear Lucy,
I am sorry I left without saying goodbye or telling you where I was going. I am somewhere in a country called Belgium. I intended to travel to Paris in order to save an old friend, but apparently I took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I do not know exactly where I am. I gave all of my money to a homeless orphan boy because I felt sorry for him, but now I have no way to get back home. I am scared and alone. Once I have found a way to earn money, I will figure out a way to get back to you, but I have no idea how long that will take. In the meantime, do not worry about me and tell our daughter that I am on on a business trip.
Love, Charles
Sydney was not surprised that Charles had made such a mistake. He was a nice guy and had good intentions, but sometimes he did stupid things in the name of justice and honesty. For example, when he told Dr. Manette that he was an aristocrat, he didn't realize that this would remind Lucie's poor father of his imprisonment and trigger a major mental breakdown. Many of his life choices would have been different if he had been wise enough to see the consequences they would have on his loved ones. Also, how could he be on a business trip if he was a teacher?
"It's a good thing he has such a bad sense of direction," Sydney said. "He is an aristocrat, if he had gone to France he would have been arrested. He does know there is a revolution going on there right?"
"You know Charles. He always has to be a hero," Lucie sighed.
Yes, Charles was always trying to be a hero, and that was why Lucie loved him. Sydney wondered if he might earn Lucie's admiration, which was the only thing in the world he ever wanted, if he also tried to be a hero. Hopefully his attempt at heroism would be more successful than Charles's.
"I guess I will go to Belgium to find him," Sydney said heroically.
"You would do that for me?" Lucie asked, looking at him with gratitude.
"Of course. I have plenty of free time now that I don't have a job."
"I'm so proud of you for finally quitting," Lucie said, as Sydney hoped she would.
"I'm just glad Charles didn't make it to France, or I'd have to put myself in much greater danger to rescue him. I'd probably have to sacrifice myself to save him," Sydney laughed at the thought. What a waste!
"That would be horrible! Be careful in Belgium, I could not stand to lose you too. I'll give you money for food and transportation," Lucie said, giving Sydney a purse full of coins that she just happened to be holding. "I've heard the beer in Belgium in wonderful, you should treat yourself to some while you are there."
Sydney could have told Lucie that he wasn't drinking anymore, but he did not want to discuss his alcohol problem at that time. They bid each other goodbye, though they were fairly certain that they would see each other again soon.
That night, Sydney rode to Dover. He listened to his iPod on the coach ride, but then he remembered that it was 1793 and iPods did not exist. The presence of Apple products was not the only anachronism that Sydney had overlooked. Belgium actually did not exist as an independent country until 1830, but Sydney would not let historical facts get in the way of his becoming a hero. Then he remembered that Charles's desire to be a hero was what had gotten himself into this mess in the first place, so he decided that heroism was rubbish. He only wanted to make Lucie happy by saving her husband.
When he arrived at Dover, he sailed across the channel to Bruges. The city was beautiful, it reminded him of a fairytale. He walked down the streets, wondering how the hell he was going to find Charles. He could be anywhere in Belgium. It was a small country, but he could be anywhere in it. Or he could have been mistaken about where he ended up and was actually in The Netherlands, or Germany, or Russia. Sydney wondered if Charles would have gone through the trouble of looking for him if he had gotten lost in Russia. He supposed that Charles would do what he could to help his wife's friend, but would probably get lost and die in Siberia. It was a good thing Sydney had excellent navigational skills so Charles would never be put in that situation.
After searching through the streets, Sydney decided to look in the restaurants and taverns. Perhaps Charles had found a job at one of the city's establishments. Sydney asked everyone he met if they had seen a man who looked like him anywhere in the city, but no one had. It was very convenient that he looked like Charles because it saved him the trouble of describing what his missing friend looked like.
Sydney was hungry after the travel and hunting he had done, so he ate some croquettes and managed to overcome the temptation of ordering a beer. He looked at the different beers on display at the bar, longing to taste them. Perhaps once he found Charles he would celebrate by sharing one beer with him.
When it was dark, Sydney walked the streets once more. If Charles was struggling to earn money, he would be unable to afford staying at an inn. If he was in Bruges, he would most likely be sleeping on its streets. Sydney walked until the sun came up, but he did not find Charles. He decided that it would be better to move on than remain in Bruges. He would check out all of the cities first, then search the countryside, which would no doubt take forever. If he could not find Charles after that, he would assume that he was either dead or had found his way back home.
Sydney slept on the ride to Ghent, then searched the city the same way he had searched Bruges. He admired the belfry tower, which had a golden dragon statue at the top. He was again tempted to try the beer, finding an unfinished glass someone had abandoned in a tavern. He smelled the dark triple ale, the complex aroma reminded him of toffee and figs. He was about to take a small sip, just to get a taste of the drink that seemed unlike any beer they served in English pubs, but he realized that he would look pathetic drinking leftover beer and restrained himself.
Failing to find Charles in Ghent, Sydney made his way to Brussels, the biggest city in Belgium. He was beginning to get frustrated, wishing Charles could have just stayed home like any sane person would have done. However, as soon as Sydney stepped off the coach, he realized that he was in the right place.
"Savior!" the people of Brussels shouted and fell to their knees when they saw Sydney, obviously mistaking him for Charles. Sydney face-palmed, wondering what Charles had gotten himself into this time.
"You have me confused with someone else," Sydney tried to explain as the people kissed his boots. What the hell had Charles done to have people behave this way towards him?
"Carton! What are you doing here?" Charles called out, emerging from the crowd and confusing everyone who was mistakenly worshipping Sydney. He had grown a full beard and was dressed like Jesus Christ. Sydney wondered how his facial hair could have grown so fast, he had not been gone for that long.
"Oh, you know me. Just wanted to try the Belgian ales. Fancy seeing you here!" Sydney said as the people backed off and went to kiss Charles's bare feet.
"You really need to do something about your drinking problem, Carton," Charles scolded.
"I'm here to bring you back home," Sydney said, rolling his eyes. "Put some real clothes on and let's go. Lucie is worried about you."
"I'm afraid I cannot go with you. I cannot abandon my people," Charles said as one of "his people" licked his feet, sticking his tongue in between his toes to remove any dirt that had accumulated there. He looked down at the Belgians as if they were his children, and they looked up to him like a god, except for the one who was too busy licking his nasty toes.
Sydney did not believe what he had heard. He had come all this way to rescue Charles from his own stupidity, and he refused to leave. It would be very hard to resist the temptation to drink if Charles was going to be difficult.
"I know it is no good arguing with you. I hope you can tell me about your misadventures here over lunch. I am curious as to why you would chose to abandon your wife and child for the sake of these people who you have only just met," Sydney said.
Charles smiled. "It would be my pleasure to take you to lunch."
"I thought you didn't have any money?" Sydney said.
"I will explain everything soon," Charles said, putting a hand on Sydney's shoulder.
"Come, I know a dreary old bar with good beer, you'll love it."
"I didn't come here to drink. I don't drink anymore. Can we just get some Belgian fries and discuss this situation rationally?"
"Oh, alright. I know a good place for frites too."
Sydney got frites drenched with mayo. They were divine, perfectly fried and salted, and the delicious mayo was so fattening that Sydney could literally feel his arteries clogging up. If he had a heart attack, his death would be on Charles's conscience. Dying in Brussels would not have been ideal, but those frites were so good they almost made his long trip worth it.
Charles, being the psychopath that he was, got frites with chocolate sauce. Just because Belgian has the best fries and the best chocolate did not mean that the two things should be paired together. Sydney wondered if Lucie found Charles's strange taste endearing or if it was just something she had learned to accept. He supposed that he would still love Lucie if she stuffed her face with chocolate frites. Love that transcends taste in food is a beautiful thing.
When Sydney attempted to pay for his frites, Charles stopped him. The shopkeeper looked at Charles with great love and devotion as Charles shook his hand and thanked him for the snack.
"You do not have to pay for anything while you are with me. You may have for whatever your heart desires. My people will see that you are well taken care of," Charles smiled.
"What in the name of Christ is going on?" Sydney asked his rival and doppelganger.
"Funny you should mention Christ, because...that's me. I am Jesus Christ," Charles said, totally serious.
"No."
"Yes."
"No, you are Charles Darnay. You are the son of a French aristocrat, you live in London, you are married and have a daughter," Sydney reminded him.
"I know who I used to be, but that's not who I am now."
Sydney feared that Charles had gone insane. That would certainly explain his choice of frite sauce. He worried he might have no choice but to knock Charles out and drag him back to London. Sydney thought a blow on the head might do Charles some good, but he worried what his followers might do if they saw him attack their savior.
"Ok, tell me everything," Sydney said, leaning back in his seat and putting a long fry into his mouth.