Chapter 2
Two and a half years prior…
The knock on her door was soft and hesitant and Belle let out a quiet sigh as she called for admittance, knowing full well who it was.
Her father entered her room carefully, looking rater dejectedly at the worn-out brown suitcase that was on her bed, the straps tied up securely.
"You're all packed then?"
"I am," she replied, attempting to sound cheerful. Next to the suitcase was a rather seizable handbag that weighted more than her entire suitcase. "I packed eleven books… I hope it'll be enough."
Her father gave a slight, rather mournful smile. "I fear Mr. Gold might not allow you much time for reading, my dear."
"I should hope not," she answered with a bit of cheek. "There's so much to learn from him that I will be extremely disappointed if I find myself with too much time to read on my hands."
"Belle…" her father started with some trepidation, and Belle braced herself inwardly, fully expecting the words that followed. "You don't have to do this… you don't have to go to Hamelin."
"Father, it's not something I have to do… it's something I want to…" Taking a few steps forward, Belle grasped her father's hand between her own. "I know Mr. Gold has quite the reputation, but he's the best in the branch… with everything he'll teach me, I'll know how to save the business once I get back."
"But if you just were to marry Gaston…" her father pleaded. "He'll know how to fix it… he has quite marvelous ideas…"
Belle pursed her lips in an attempt to keep quiet on what she actually thought of Gaston's 'marvelous ideas'.
As far as she was concerned, their family business had been steadily going downhill ever since her former finance had begun to cajole her father into his plans. These days she barely recognized the fast-food giant that had become her father's company from the magical store it had been when her mother had still been alive.
"Gaston and I aren't right for each other," she replied instead. "'French Fries' will become a healthy enterprise again - inwardly she cringed at the double-entendre of her words - even without him."
'Especially without him.' she added mentally.
"And you really think that this apprenticeship with Mr. Gold is going to accomplish that?" her father asked doubtfully.
"Like I said, he's the best in the branch," Belle replied confidently. "He's the single most renowned chocolatier in the world. And I'm very grateful he's allowing me to work with him for a while."
"Only because The Guild pressured him into it," her father remarked grudgingly. "The man is a recluse, Belle. They say he doesn't talk to anyone."
"Well, you always say I talk for two," Belle grinned. "And whatever his motives are for taking me on, I insist to be grateful for the opportunity."
"Please reconsider," her father all but begged in a last attempt. "Gaston will gladly take you back, I'm sure of it. You wouldn't have to leave Avonlea, it's a much simpler solution. If you were to just listen to Gaston…"
"I did plenty of that last night," Belle answered rather curtly, a hint of annoyance slipping into her voice. "He gave quite a lengthy speech on how he envisioned our future together. And I'm sorry to say it, but I found it to be a rather daunting one…"
"Belle… he's the only one that can save us…he has the money, the connections… " The anguish on her father's face almost made her gave in, but the memory of the possessive glint in Gaston's eyes the previous night and the feeling of dread that had filled her as she'd listened to him prattle on about the sons she was to bear him and the duties she'd had to fulfill as his wife made her steel her will.
"Father, please don't ask this of me," she asked urgently. "I will find a way… but on my own terms."
Her father's shoulders slumped resignedly. "Very well then… if you are certain. I'll take you to the station."
They'd agreed to keep their goodbye brief, her father wasn't going to take her to the platform. Still, saying goodbye to him was a rather sad, teary event, but once Belle entered Avonlea's Station, the melancholy she'd been feeling previously evaporated and gave way to a tinge of excitement.
One way or the other, she was going on the adventure she'd always longed for.
She still had a good twenty minutes before her train was to depart and she sat down on one of the narrow, metal benches, her suitcase at her feet next to her, her handbag in her lap. Opening it, she pulled out the first of the novel's she'd brought and opened it with some difficulty. The pages were hard and stiff, mostly fabricated out a sort of synthetic fiber instead of actual paper and its cover was stark and unbending. She only managed to open the book by breaking its spine with a dull crack.
The station had no windows, save from a few fanlights near the ceiling. The hall was illuminated by a bright, cold light, giving off an almost blueish hue. Although it was all right for reading, Belle looked longingly at the small windows of the fanlight, trying to catch a glimpse of the sky. From what she could see the sky was grey, only marginally lighter than the granite paint of the high walls.
She coughed, bringing her hand up to over her mouth to muzzle the sound, hearing it echoed by the quiet coughs of other people
Over her navy-blue skirt and white blouse she was wearing the grey poncho that had become the unwritten dress-code of Avonlea, for anyone who dared to go outside. The smog and soot residue that cloaked the streets and outside area's of Avonlea managed to seep through every cranny and split, soiling everything it touched, clogging everyone's lungs and leaving Belle's throat feeling dry and raw.
Finally a metallic voice through speakers on the wall informed her that her train had arrived at the platform and was ready to depart in fifteen minutes. Jumping to her feet eagerly, she stuffed her book back into her bag and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, dragging it along with her to the platform.
The train, a silvery grey, dull monstrosity was waiting for her at the platform and after showing her ticket to a uniformed conductor, she deposited her suitcase on the luggage rack and entered the compartment to find herself a seat.
To her chagrin, most of the windows were tinted, plastered with some kind of semi-translucent cover. She marched through several compartments until she finally found a window were some of the cover had been ripped, enabling her to look outside undeterred and she gratefully sank down in the seat.
As the train rolled outside the station, she peered outside, taking in the view. For the first hour of her journey, they train drove through the city of Avonlea, but even though it was around noon, hardly any people were outside.
The sky was lead grey and heavy, impenetrable clouds completely hiding the tops of the tall skyscrapers from view. As she gazed outside, Belle couldn't fight down the hint of depression that overtook her at the sight of the monotone, washed out surroundings that swept by.
There were factories, skyscrapers, tall chimneys and gigantic warehouses as far as her gaze could reach.
Perhaps Avonlea had always been meant to be industrial. Traditionally, most of its wealth and prosperity was gained from the profit of the ore mines. However most of the supply was exported to other cities and kingdoms and only one factory inside Avonlea processed the ore into metal which was then fabricated into various utensils.
It was small-scaled and simple and Belle vaguely remembered that Avonlea in those days, although being only a very young girl herself then.
The ore factory had been the pride of the city, the center of their realm. But there had been so much more to the city in those days as well. She remembered the vast green pastures and the small farms. The city center of Avonlea, with it's endless variety of houses, shops and small workplaces. The city square with the blacksmith and 'The Game of Thorns', Avonlea's most renewed pub, everything just the usual hustle and bustle of a small, lively city.
But most of all, she remembered her parent's shop, the colorful window display, the sweet, tantalizing scent that waffled through the door that was always open and the high shelves, filled to the brim with sweets, candy, lollipops, acid drops, candy canes, marshmallows, gummies, fudge, nougat, candy bars and caramel in bright, shiny wrappers.
She remembered, but she'd forgotten the taste, her mouth now dry and bland.
The industrial transformation had come to Avonlea twenty years prior. It had started with a single steam engine acquired by the factory to ease some of the hard manual labour needed to withdraw the metal from the ore.
The infusion of the steam engine made the entire process so much easier that production increased tenfold.
With the expanded production, the export rose and soon Avonlea's metal and assorted products was in high demand.
More steam engines were purchased and another factory was build.
And then another.
And another.
Around these factories tall buildings, scraping the sky, rose, filled with offices that negotiated export, deals, mergers and up-scales.
The mines expanded as well, slowly eating away the meadows and swallowing up the farms, turning farmers into miners.
More miners were imported from abroad and housed in cubic, thirty-story apartment-complexes.
The mines withdrew the ore from the earth, the factories roared with activity and the chimney's smoked day and night, slowly filling the air around Avonlea with smog and soot until the city was enfolded in a permanent grew fog, drowning out every color and every fresh breath.
It wasn't until several hours after the train had left Avonlea that the smog finally began to clear and Belle gasped as she took in the new view from the circular tear in the covering.
The train was riding through a large forest and she realized with a start that it must be autumn because the leaves on the trees were showing a spectacular array of colors: red, orange, gold, brown, yellow and ochre. It was most likely going to rain soon, because the sky was clouded and dark, but somehow this set off the vibrant colors even better.
It was magnificent and Belle gazed, barely able to draw breath, her nose almost pressed against the window, so to not miss a single sight.
It was another two hours before she reached the small station of Hamelin which consisted of little more than two outside platforms and a small building that held the waiting room and the station master's office.
She was already at the doors before the train came to a full stop, clutching her suitcase and handbag.
At long last the doors slid open and she all but stumbled outside almost tripping over her own feet in her rush to take in her surroundings fully.
It was late afternoon and near the horizon the first signs of dusk were already noticable. A cold wind blew from the forest, blazing strands of hair around her face and the first, cold drops of rain fell down from the heavy, dark clouds.
Belle didn't care. Dropping her bags, she stood on the platform, breathing in deeply, filling her lungs with clean, fresh air. Tilting her head back she let the rain fall on her face. It might be cold and she might get drenched within seconds, but it didn't matter. The water was clean and perfect and she felt the drops trickle down her face and neck, into the collar of her grey poncho.
Opening her eyes wide, a whoop of laughter escaped her throat and spreading her arms out, she twirled around in the wind, clean air and rain.
There's a Pinterest board linked to this chapter. Look for MissPuppet on Pinterest and you should be able to find it easily.
