Sydney Carton's Belgian's Adventure: Part II
So Charles told his story. When he came to Belgium, he had been very confused. He had arrived there on horse and had never been quite sure how he should have been looking at his map. His four-year-old daughter had drawn the map with crayon for him and she had neglected to add an arrow that signified which way was north. When he rode into Brussels he heard people speaking French and thought he must be in France. He assumed the city he was in was Paris because that was the only city that appeared on his map. His daughter had gotten a C in her geography class, and that letter was very high in the alphabet, so he had absolute faith that her map of France was accurate. If there were any other cities in the country, surely she would have drawn them on her map.
Charles did not know his way around Paris, so he tried to find a recognizable landmark. He asked people where the Eiffel Tower was, but they told him he was in the wrong city and that the Eiffel Tower would not be built for another hundred years. That was very disappointing, he would have to wait a long time before he could take a selfie under the Eiffel Tower. He was also shocked to discover that he was not in Paris. He figured that he must have accidentally gone too far and ended up in uncharted territory, or was in a beach town on the Mediterranean. If he had ever seen a calendar of Mediterranean cities, he would realize that he was nowhere near that area. He asked the locals where a good place to go swimming was, but they just pointed him to a fountain and laughed.
Charles tried asking a homeless orphan boy where he was. The orphan boy, who was ill and barely clothed, told him through his chattering teeth that he was in Belgium. Charles felt sorry for the boy, so he gave him all the money he had. He immediately regretted that decision because he no longer had money to go to Paris or to get back home. He had never even heard of Belgium before, and suddenly he was stuck there. Feeling lost and alone, he went to a bar, because he thought that was what Sydney would have done.
The people at the bar were kind to Charles. They gave him paper and pen to write to his wife so she would know where he was. As he drank the delicious Belgian beer, he told the bartender that his plan had been to go to Paris to save an old friend and confessed that he belonged to a family of aristocrats. The bartender assured him it was a good thing he had gotten lost, because he would have been killed if he had gone to Paris. Charles was surprised to learn that there was a revolution going on in France. He didn't keep up with the news because his reading ability was worse than his daughter's.
The next day, Charles returned to the bar and was offered a job. He would be able to earn money for food and shelter while saving up to return home. On one fateful day, he went on a tour of a brewery. He took notes about the brewing process, eager to learn how different Belgian beers had such distinct flavors. After the tour, Charles snuck off and played with some of the brewing equipment. He cut his hand on a broken bottle, but pain was not enough to stop him from fulfilling his new dream of brewing his own beer. He thought he had finally found his calling. So, in that Brussels brewery, he created a beer that would change the course of history.
Charles cried as he told that part of the story because it was very emotional for him. Sydney cried as he listened to the story because of how stupid Charles was. He could not believe the love of his life had chosen such an idiot over him.
Charles may have been a moron, but somehow he had created the best beer in the world. Not only did it have a complex flavor, it had the power to heal the sick. That was why the people of Brussels worshiped Charles. He had performed a miracle by brewing that beer.
"How did you do it?" Sydney asked.
"I don't know," Charles said.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"It was an accident. I was just playing around when I brewed this beer. I didn't know what I was doing. I have tried to repeat it, but all my attempts have failed. All the beer I have brewed has been delicious, but it was only that first one that had healing powers."
"So that is why you refuse to leave? You want to recreate your magical beer?"
"I must. For the sake of the poor and the sick in this country, I must."
Sydney could not stop Charles from doing what he thought was right, but he also could not return to Lucie as a failure. He would have to help Charles brew his magic beer so they could go home together. And after hearing Charles's story, he needed a drink.
"Well then, let's get to work," Sydney said, standing up and throwing out his empty paper cone.
"You want to help me brew my beer? But what do you know about beer?"
"A lot more than you."
"True. I will take you to my brewery."
So Charles led Sydney to St. Charles Brewery, where he kept his Mr. Beer home brewing kit. Charles had produced a large amount of beer in the short time he had been in Belgium, which seemed very strange to Sydney because he knew that it took several weeks to brew beer.
"My Monsieur Beer kit ferments beer in a matter of seconds," Charles explained. Sydney found this hard to believe, but then again Charles did brew beer that healed the sick, so anything was possible.
"How does it work?" Sydney asked.
"I can't really explain it," Charles shrugged.
"Of course you can't," Sydney sighed.
Sydney opened the keg, releasing a nasty smell. There was a ton of dried gunk inside. Clearly Charles did not know how to clean. Sydney sanitized the kit while Charles complained about how the beer he made kept tasting worse and worse after each try. Obviously his beer was bad because he was using a disgusting keg that was only getting dirtier the more he used it. Sydney hoped that a clean keg would solve Charles's problem and he would be able to make his beer just like he made it the first time.
So they started brewing. They combined the hopped malt extract with yeast and water. The yeast ate the sugars in the malt and produced Sydney's favorite organic compound, alcohol. As the mixture fermented at unrealistic speed, the keg began to glow in a variety of colors. At this point Sydney would not have been surprised if a unicorn leapt out of the keg and impaled him with its horn. It was just that kind of day.
Sydney was going to bottle the beer, as that would have been the next step in a normal situation, but Charles just drank straight from the keg. Apparently it was carbonated and ready for consumption.
"How is it?" Sydney asked.
"It's OK. It just tastes like beer," Charles shrugged.
Even Charles was not ignorant enough to claim that all beer tasted the same. He could tell the difference between a brown and blond ale, and not just because of the color. His reaction to Sydney's beer was the harshest criticism that he could have given. This beer could not just taste like any beer, it had to be the best beer.
So they tried again. They brewed gold, amber, brown ales. Dubbels, tripels, and quadrupels. Gueuze, fruit lambics, and wit. Sydney was becoming an expert brewer, but none of his beers had the magical healing power that he was aiming for. In order to test this, Sydney gave himself a paper cut before trying each beer. None of the beers healed his cut, but he had an impressively high alcohol tolerance, so he had no problem drinking each brew.
The same could not be said for Charles. He was trying his best to keep up with Sydney, but of course he was failing miserably. Sydney was too absorbed in his work to notice that Charles was getting extremely drunk. It was not until Charles started vomiting and sobbing that Sydney realized something might be wrong.
"Are you OK?" Sydney asked. Charles didn't respond, he was too busy recalling his chocolate frites to life AKA throwing up. Sydney had been there before. He thought that the sickness would pass and Charles would feel better the next day. He was wrong.
Charles passed out in a pool of brown mushy vomit. Sydney rushed to him and tried to wake him up, but he would not awaken. His body temperature was low, his skin pale, his breathing slow and irregular. Sydney was getting very worried, fully aware that those were signs of alcohol poisoning. If Charles died, he would have blamed himself for forgetting that Charles had a much lower tolerance than he did. He regretted letting his friend drink so much. Sydney would never know that Charles had not actually had that much to drink, he just could not handle his alcohol. His young daughter could drink him under the table easily.
Not knowing how else to help Charles, Sydney returned to brewing. He hoped that the magic beer could cure Charles of his alcohol poisoning. It seemed counter intuitive to give beer to someone who was sick from drinking too much beer, but it was the best plan that he had. He tried several different brews, but none of them worked. Time was running out. If left in his condition Charles could go into a coma and die.
Suddenly there was a flash of bright light and a golden dragon appeared before Sydney.
"Sydney Carton. You seek to create the beer that heals the sick and wounded?" the golden dragon said in a deep and seductive voice.
Sydney nodded. He wondered if he was drunker than he thought.
"All that is required to create the healing beer is the blood of one pure of heart, who gives their blood willingly," the dragon continued. "But be warned. The blood of one who is unworthy shall turn the beer to poison."
The dragon disappeared as quickly as he had come. Sydney was still not sure what he should do. Charles must have accidentally got some of his blood in the beer the first time he made it, after he cut his hand on the broken bottle. If anyone could be described as pure of heart, it was Charles. But now Charles was unconscious and could not give his blood willingly. The only option now was that Sydney use his own blood, and he wasn't sure if he was worthy enough, whatever that even meant.
But he had no choice. When he added the hops to his next brew, Sydney cut his hand and let his blood drip in as well. The finished product had a nice amber color and spicy aroma. Fearing it might be poisonous, Sydney drank a glassful before offering some to Charles. If it killed him then Charles would have to recover on his own, if Charles could recover at all, but at least he wouldn't be responsible for the death of Lucie's husband.
Of course, the beer did not kill him. In fact, it was even more magical and delicious than Charles's original beer, because Sydney was obviously way better than Charles. Sydney's hand healed in an instant. He went to Charles with lightning speed, kneeling beside him and pouring the beer into his mouth. For a moment Sydney feared he was too late, but then Charles opened his eyes and looked up at his savior. Sydney handed him the beer goblet and he finished it off, feeling more revitalized after each sip.
"It's so complex! I don't have the vocabulary to describe what I am tasting!" Charles said.
Charles did not have the vocabulary to describe a rock, much less Sydney's incredible creation. Not even the best beer in the world could give Charles more intelligence and emotional depth.
"Now that we know the recipe, we can teach it to the Belgians and go back England," Charles said happily.
Sydney shook his head. If the beer required their blood, one of them would have to remain there forever to produce the beer. "Not just anyone can brew this beer. The Belgians need a savior who can brew it for them."
Charles incorrectly assumed that the savior Sydney was referring to was him. "I have an idea," Charles said gravely. "You should wear my old clothes and return to Lucie. You can pretend to be me, so she will never know that I am trapped here for eternity. She can continue to believe that we are happily married, but she will actually be with you. Have you ever noticed how similar we look? She won't know the difference."
Sydney's eyes rolled so far back into his head that he saw his own brain. It was a magnificent brain. It was very different from whatever Charles had in his skull. He probably had bird poop in place of where his brain should have been.
"Of course she would know the difference!" Sydney yelled in frustration. Of course she could tell the difference between him and that witless blob. They might be equally gorgeous, but their personalities were completely opposite. Sydney had a personality, Charles did not. They were as opposite as two people could be. Even if Lucie could be initially fooled, she would soon realize something was off when she went to bed with her husband and found that he knew how to pleasure her in ways he had never thought of before.
Sydney began to sob. Lucie deserved so much better than Charles. Now he had the opportunity to go back to Lucie and tell her that her husband wanted him to take his place in her home. If Lucie accepted that, he could have all he ever wanted. But if Charles was the one she preferred, he had to send him back to her. It was why he came to Belgium in the first place. So Lucie could be happy.
"You don't have to stay here," Sydney said calmly. "I will brew the beer. I know how to do it."
So Charles agreed to return to Lucie while Sydney stayed in Belgium to brew his magic beer.
On his way back to England, Charles took a wrong turn and ended up in what he thought was Germany but was actually a town on the border of Austria. He did not realize his mistake until his horse accidentally ran into a young boy and killed him. The child's father cursed at him in German as he wept over the horrible consequence of his poor horse riding ability. The Austrian father threw a potato at him, so he turned around and went back the way he came. He finally figured out how to get back to England after talking to a cartographer in the Netherlands. He returned to his beloved wife and daughter, who were both disappointed that Sydney had not made it back with him.
Charles cried himself to sleep every night for the rest of his life because he caused the death of a child. However, if he had known who that child was, he would not have felt so bad. Though that boy had been innocent, his continued existence would have led to the deaths of millions of people. He was Hitler's ancestor. Because Charles was too stupid to prevent his horse from killing a kid, he had prevented Hitler from ever being born. The Holocaust never happened. Anne Frank lived to become one of the greatest novelists of her time. A German boy who would have been killed in the firebombing of Dresden would instead become a great scientist who found the cure for both cancer and AIDS. In the distant future, when aliens threatened to destroy Earth, the first Jewish and female president of the United States would come up with the plan that would defeat the aliens and save the planet. If Sydney had not gone to Charles's rescue, Hilter's ancestor would have lived and reproduced. That president's great grandmother would have been gassed in a concentration camp, and the entire human race would have been destroyed. By saving Charles from his own stupidity, Sydney Carton had literally saved the world.
Sydney was content making beer and eating frites, being worshiped by the community, but he desperately missed Lucie. He finally had a purpose and was respected by all the people of Belgium, yet his life was incomplete. He was needed because of his expert ability to produce beer, but no one appreciated his wit or sense of humor.
Lucie was not content with her life as a housewife. Charles was still a passionate lover, supportive husband, and caring father, but he was so dumb. The traits that Lucie once found endearing were starting to get on her nerves. She missed her old friend Sydney. She thought about him as she laid in bed with her emotionally disturbed husband. She dreamed about him and wished she would never wake.
One day she realized that she had made a mistake choosing Charles over Sydney. So she left Charles, parting as friends, and went to find Sydney in the wonderful land of Belgium. She took her child with her, knowing that Charles had no idea how to take care of her. Charles was sad but he got over it and found another blonde.
When Lucie showed up at Sydney's door and professed her love for him, he was understandably rather shocked.
"But I thought you loved Charles. That's why I did all of this, so you could be with him and be happy," he said.
"Don't be daft. I love you," Lucie said as she embraced him.
They kissed, but Sydney noticed that Lucie had her daughter with her. It was quite inappropriate to make out with a girl's mom in front of her, so Sydney took his hands off her and so he invited them to come back home for tea. His flat wasn't the best that he could afford, but he refused to live extravagantly. He did not want to waste his wealth on himself while the poor still suffered. But now that Lucie and her daughter were living with him, it did not seem like a waste to spend money on them. So he bought a decent home for them, married Lucie, adopted her daughter, and started a charity that shipped his beer to needy people all over the world.
Sydney and Lucie made love in frites and lived happily ever after.