|Gerodere Untitled |
| By: Maritza Lara (Jarjayes) |
| I never thought, in a million years, I'd be reduced to this humiliation. | |Neither, did I think I'd be wearing the dirtiest of rags and scavenging for the | |poorest quality of food on the pulcrid smelling streets of Paris. |
| It had been just many months ago, I have been running scared-stricken for my | |life, dodging each and every one of them treacherous fiends who call themselves | |revolutionists wanting so desperately to lay claim on my life. All the while, | |leaving me wondering what I have ever done wrong for them to desire me dead. I | |asked myself that very question numbers of times when deep down I knew the reason| |why. I had escaped the guillotine. |
| Unfortunately, my family and many of my friends were not lucky. Until this | |very moment, I still mourn their passing...no, their murder, especially that of | |my sister, Marguerite. It should have been my neck under that cursed blade | |instead of hers. She was so full of life, so kind and gentle...I pleaded the | |revolutionary court to spare her life and the children's. I pleaded with that | |monster Robespierre to let them live. He just stared into my eyes with such | |coldness. He, then, turned his shoulder towards me as they pronounced sentence | |for a crime I had no idea of ever committing. I will never forget all those | |enraged faces with eyes fueled by pure hatred towards my class. Before we were | |thrown unmercifully in our prison cell, I made sure to catch a last glance of | |their faces, of Robespierre and his Angel of Death, St. Just. I have made sure | |to etch their damned names onto my memory and swore revenge for all the pain they| |have caused me. They will pay dearly, if not in this life, then in the next. |
| How I escaped my fate, I do not even remember the details of the matter. It | |was just one miraculous circumstance which happened along the way to the | |guillotine. Marguerite had been trudging behind me in the long Procession of | |Death. The children were obliged to stay behind. My brother-in-law, her | |husband, and a friend of ours had taken our places two days before. We had both | |begged them and argued with them, and even threatened to take our own lives if | |they did, but it was hopeless. At the hour, it was all over. Marguerite was | |widowed and I had to become her pillar of strength. Once she had cried herself | |to sleep, I covered her with what was left of my jacket. I had tucked the | |children in before accommodating myself, as best as I could accommodate, in some | |far off corner of our cell. It did not take me more than a second to burst into | |tears. I cried all night so that when judgment day arrived I would be facing my | |death with my head held high. That was what I did as both Marguerite and I | |followed the others towards the Gates of Hell. Still, inside...deep inside, I | |was afraid. All the while, I thought how Oscar had been right and how I had been| |too much of a coward to not follow her. Just to imagine, I would have probably | |be watching this procession from the crowd instead of participating in it. |
| It was far from quiet. These commoners hurled curses at us as well as rotted| |food. I remember being hit in the face with a head of lettuce. Marguerite had | |been hit with tomatoes. I heard her cry in pain. The crowd grew menacingly | |ugly. I could feel my sister's face hiding against my back. I wanted to fight | |back but it is very difficult with your hands tied behind your back. |
| "Victor?", my sister whimpered as more things were thrown at us. I did my | |best to protect her, taking in most of the damage. "Victor, make them stop!", | |she cried, my sister was scared. So was I. The crowd kept coming near, growing | |furious by the minute. "Marguerite, stay close to me!", I shouted. "Victor, I'm| |scared!" I know, Margie, I know, I kept reminding myself. |
| "Down with the nobles! Down with the nobles!", they angrily shouted. "Kill | |them!" Before I could react, before any of us could react, a riot broke out. |
| What recall of that moment is quite vague. There was confusion. An entire | |mob of commoners grabbed at us from many directions. They were armed with | |staffs, with pikes, with weapons of a varied sort. Everyone was screaming. | |Marguerite was screaming. A large sordid man grabbed her. He tried carrying her| |off but she struggled frantically like an animal terrified. "Marguerite! I'm | |coming Marguerite!", I yelled through the mob. As I pushed my way through, more | |like fought my way through, a large, grotesque woman jostled me off balance. Her| |strength was incredible. In her hand, she had in her grip a broom, a worn out | |broom with which she commenced beating me with. I tried earnestly to defend | |myself but with my hands skillfully bound to my back, the fat cow had the | |advantage over me. It took little time before another woman of slender build | |joins in beating my head and face with a loaf of staled bread. |
| "Victor!", I heard my sister yelping as that burly heathen and five others | |stripped her of her clothes. I had to do something. I knew I had to do | |something to save my sister from her fate. But, before I could do anything, I | |was hit in the head by that cursed broom. From there, black as pitch. |
| When I finally came to, all was over. I found myself in what seemed to have | |been, but was not, a dark alley. My head throbbed as I sat up. I strived | |focusing my eyes towards my surroundings. The pain was too great. On impulse, I| |reached to touch my head. To my discovery, it was dressed. Someone had brought | |me to this place. I still could not open my eyes too well but I could hear like | |the gushing of water in a river. I Also heard the squeaky sound of an animal...or| |was that two? The smell of it was something beyond all that was holy...not even | |a skilled priest could excorsize the necromanic stench that possessed my | |safeplace. Then, it had finally dawned on me to where I had been taken to. | |Never in my wildest dreams I ever thought I'd be THIS close to a sewer. Never. |
| "Where am I?", I uttered to myself. Even though, I | |already knew the answer to that. |
| "We are in the sewers, but I get you already know that," a voice answered,| |a male voice like that of a teenage boy. |
| "What happened?" |
| "You were knocked out of your senses, Sir. If I didn't | |bring you here, you'd be dead now." |
| "You know what I | |am?" |
| "A noble, Sir," he | |answered. |
| I knew what this was leading | |to. I had to ask. |
| "It is not that I am not grateful but why did you bother| |bringing me here if I am...?" |
| He wasted no time in answering | |my question. |
| "I couldn't stand to watch ya die. It goes against all I've been taught. I | |couldn't watch ya die," he answered. There was deep emotion in his raspy voice. | |"Here, eat." He pushed a morsel of bread and salted meat into my hands. It was | |not veal or caviar but I ate without argument. I was just thankful to be alive. | |I was thankful to be eating...I ate like a savage. The boy smiled, pleased. |
| "Many nobles had been wounded. Some had been beaten to death," with that, I | |stopped my eating. I stared into space realizing the reality at hand. |
| "Marguerite," I | |whispered. |
| "She's probably dead. After the riot fell apart, the | |execution line started up once again." |
| Dead? It was | |not so. |
| "Eat up, you need your strength. Paris isn't safe anymore." With that said, | |he brought out an accordion. "This was my father's before he died," he said with | |a soft smile. "It was in these very waters I had to dispose him in. He was blind| |in one eye and had only one leg to stand on. He would roam Paris often by night | |using a crutch to help him walk. He would recite ballads playing this accordian | |to add some mood." |
| I do not know how long I spent there. However, I was beginninng to being | |accustomed to the nauseating stench of pure sewage. All the while, the boy | |entertained us both with the somber melodies of his instrument. |
| I had to ask| |him. |
| "What is your | |name?" |
| He kept playing that instrument and answered, | |"Jean. And yours, Sir?" |
| | |"Gerodere." |
| My host stopped. "Gerodere? Does Gerodere| |have a real name?" |
| "Gerodere is a real | |name." |
| "Sir, a real name like mine. Gerodere is your key to getting killed. | |What is your first name?", he inquired insistantly. |
| I, by now, did not care. "My name | |is Victor," I replied. |
| "Well, Victor, it is a pleasure to meet | |ya," he smiled. |
| "The feeling is quite mutual, Jean." And why | |not? This boy saved my life. |
|End of Part One.... |
| I never thought, in a million years, I'd be reduced to this humiliation. | |Neither, did I think I'd be wearing the dirtiest of rags and scavenging for the | |poorest quality of food on the pulcrid smelling streets of Paris. |
| It had been just many months ago, I have been running scared-stricken for my | |life, dodging each and every one of them treacherous fiends who call themselves | |revolutionists wanting so desperately to lay claim on my life. All the while, | |leaving me wondering what I have ever done wrong for them to desire me dead. I | |asked myself that very question numbers of times when deep down I knew the reason| |why. I had escaped the guillotine. |
| Unfortunately, my family and many of my friends were not lucky. Until this | |very moment, I still mourn their passing...no, their murder, especially that of | |my sister, Marguerite. It should have been my neck under that cursed blade | |instead of hers. She was so full of life, so kind and gentle...I pleaded the | |revolutionary court to spare her life and the children's. I pleaded with that | |monster Robespierre to let them live. He just stared into my eyes with such | |coldness. He, then, turned his shoulder towards me as they pronounced sentence | |for a crime I had no idea of ever committing. I will never forget all those | |enraged faces with eyes fueled by pure hatred towards my class. Before we were | |thrown unmercifully in our prison cell, I made sure to catch a last glance of | |their faces, of Robespierre and his Angel of Death, St. Just. I have made sure | |to etch their damned names onto my memory and swore revenge for all the pain they| |have caused me. They will pay dearly, if not in this life, then in the next. |
| How I escaped my fate, I do not even remember the details of the matter. It | |was just one miraculous circumstance which happened along the way to the | |guillotine. Marguerite had been trudging behind me in the long Procession of | |Death. The children were obliged to stay behind. My brother-in-law, her | |husband, and a friend of ours had taken our places two days before. We had both | |begged them and argued with them, and even threatened to take our own lives if | |they did, but it was hopeless. At the hour, it was all over. Marguerite was | |widowed and I had to become her pillar of strength. Once she had cried herself | |to sleep, I covered her with what was left of my jacket. I had tucked the | |children in before accommodating myself, as best as I could accommodate, in some | |far off corner of our cell. It did not take me more than a second to burst into | |tears. I cried all night so that when judgment day arrived I would be facing my | |death with my head held high. That was what I did as both Marguerite and I | |followed the others towards the Gates of Hell. Still, inside...deep inside, I | |was afraid. All the while, I thought how Oscar had been right and how I had been| |too much of a coward to not follow her. Just to imagine, I would have probably | |be watching this procession from the crowd instead of participating in it. |
| It was far from quiet. These commoners hurled curses at us as well as rotted| |food. I remember being hit in the face with a head of lettuce. Marguerite had | |been hit with tomatoes. I heard her cry in pain. The crowd grew menacingly | |ugly. I could feel my sister's face hiding against my back. I wanted to fight | |back but it is very difficult with your hands tied behind your back. |
| "Victor?", my sister whimpered as more things were thrown at us. I did my | |best to protect her, taking in most of the damage. "Victor, make them stop!", | |she cried, my sister was scared. So was I. The crowd kept coming near, growing | |furious by the minute. "Marguerite, stay close to me!", I shouted. "Victor, I'm| |scared!" I know, Margie, I know, I kept reminding myself. |
| "Down with the nobles! Down with the nobles!", they angrily shouted. "Kill | |them!" Before I could react, before any of us could react, a riot broke out. |
| What recall of that moment is quite vague. There was confusion. An entire | |mob of commoners grabbed at us from many directions. They were armed with | |staffs, with pikes, with weapons of a varied sort. Everyone was screaming. | |Marguerite was screaming. A large sordid man grabbed her. He tried carrying her| |off but she struggled frantically like an animal terrified. "Marguerite! I'm | |coming Marguerite!", I yelled through the mob. As I pushed my way through, more | |like fought my way through, a large, grotesque woman jostled me off balance. Her| |strength was incredible. In her hand, she had in her grip a broom, a worn out | |broom with which she commenced beating me with. I tried earnestly to defend | |myself but with my hands skillfully bound to my back, the fat cow had the | |advantage over me. It took little time before another woman of slender build | |joins in beating my head and face with a loaf of staled bread. |
| "Victor!", I heard my sister yelping as that burly heathen and five others | |stripped her of her clothes. I had to do something. I knew I had to do | |something to save my sister from her fate. But, before I could do anything, I | |was hit in the head by that cursed broom. From there, black as pitch. |
| When I finally came to, all was over. I found myself in what seemed to have | |been, but was not, a dark alley. My head throbbed as I sat up. I strived | |focusing my eyes towards my surroundings. The pain was too great. On impulse, I| |reached to touch my head. To my discovery, it was dressed. Someone had brought | |me to this place. I still could not open my eyes too well but I could hear like | |the gushing of water in a river. I Also heard the squeaky sound of an animal...or| |was that two? The smell of it was something beyond all that was holy...not even | |a skilled priest could excorsize the necromanic stench that possessed my | |safeplace. Then, it had finally dawned on me to where I had been taken to. | |Never in my wildest dreams I ever thought I'd be THIS close to a sewer. Never. |
| "Where am I?", I uttered to myself. Even though, I | |already knew the answer to that. |
| "We are in the sewers, but I get you already know that," a voice answered,| |a male voice like that of a teenage boy. |
| "What happened?" |
| "You were knocked out of your senses, Sir. If I didn't | |bring you here, you'd be dead now." |
| "You know what I | |am?" |
| "A noble, Sir," he | |answered. |
| I knew what this was leading | |to. I had to ask. |
| "It is not that I am not grateful but why did you bother| |bringing me here if I am...?" |
| He wasted no time in answering | |my question. |
| "I couldn't stand to watch ya die. It goes against all I've been taught. I | |couldn't watch ya die," he answered. There was deep emotion in his raspy voice. | |"Here, eat." He pushed a morsel of bread and salted meat into my hands. It was | |not veal or caviar but I ate without argument. I was just thankful to be alive. | |I was thankful to be eating...I ate like a savage. The boy smiled, pleased. |
| "Many nobles had been wounded. Some had been beaten to death," with that, I | |stopped my eating. I stared into space realizing the reality at hand. |
| "Marguerite," I | |whispered. |
| "She's probably dead. After the riot fell apart, the | |execution line started up once again." |
| Dead? It was | |not so. |
| "Eat up, you need your strength. Paris isn't safe anymore." With that said, | |he brought out an accordion. "This was my father's before he died," he said with | |a soft smile. "It was in these very waters I had to dispose him in. He was blind| |in one eye and had only one leg to stand on. He would roam Paris often by night | |using a crutch to help him walk. He would recite ballads playing this accordian | |to add some mood." |
| I do not know how long I spent there. However, I was beginninng to being | |accustomed to the nauseating stench of pure sewage. All the while, the boy | |entertained us both with the somber melodies of his instrument. |
| I had to ask| |him. |
| "What is your | |name?" |
| He kept playing that instrument and answered, | |"Jean. And yours, Sir?" |
| | |"Gerodere." |
| My host stopped. "Gerodere? Does Gerodere| |have a real name?" |
| "Gerodere is a real | |name." |
| "Sir, a real name like mine. Gerodere is your key to getting killed. | |What is your first name?", he inquired insistantly. |
| I, by now, did not care. "My name | |is Victor," I replied. |
| "Well, Victor, it is a pleasure to meet | |ya," he smiled. |
| "The feeling is quite mutual, Jean." And why | |not? This boy saved my life. |
|End of Part One.... |