Josie woke around 11 o'clock the next morning; she showered, dressed, and left her apartment.
After Marcel's visit, she had felt a little better. However, Josie decided that it was time she thought about protection. There seemed to be no end in sight to the occupation of France, and she knew that harassment could very soon turn into assault. She was hesitant, but her safety was of the highest importance. She made her way to a low-key shop in a nearly empty part of the city.
The store she was entering sold knives, guns, and other more exotic weapons. She pushed the door open and coughed quietly at the smell of the place; the scent of dust nearly covered a smell Josie could only describe as death. The only light came through the grimy windows, which added to her unease. After she had taken in her surroundings, she realized that she wasn't the only shopper. Several men clad in rough-looking uniforms were standing around the back of the shop, near the guns. Suddenly Josie was nervous; she couldn't possibly buy a weapon in a store full of Nazis.
Josie was slowly turning to leave, hoping not to attract attention to herself, when she heard one of the men say loudly, "Omar, you don't have to touch everything you see!" His accent was unlike anything Josie had ever heard.
Her fear faded. Americans. They wouldn't care if she bought the biggest piece of artillery in the place, so Josie began to browse along the glass cases nearest to her.
There were knives of all sizes. But Josie felt none of them were for her. They were so obvious looking. She searched for quite a long time, and finally she propped her elbows against a case and sighed heavily.
All of the men turned to look at her, for she had been completely silent until now. The man with the strange accent said, "Well look here, boys. Sugar, should you really be in a gun shop?"
The other men laughed, but Josie glared. Just like a soldier: arrogant and oppressive, no matter what country they came from or what cause they fought for.
Josie said as much under her breath and in French.
More chuckles. The leader silenced them, "Stop it, boys. Seems I've pissed her off." He walked over to Josie, "Speak Anglish?"
"Oui, I speak it." Josie said, standing straight as she was approached, trying to appear as tall as she could. It was a wasted effort. This soldier had dark brown hair, tinged with gray, and a scar from one side of his neck to the other. To be honest, this man was more intimidating than any Gestapo she had seen.
Despite his appearance, he continued to speak to her in an amicable tone. "My friends and I drop by this place from time to time, so we know it pretty well. Are you looking for anything in particular?" Since he was being rather kind, Josie decided to take advantage of his help.
"Oui, I'm looking for a knife. Not a big one!" She said as she noticed the large piece of steel hanging from the soldier's coat. "Just, a knife. One that can be hidden."
All of the other men had gathered around Josie and her helper. One said, "Sounds like you want a switchblade!"
"Excellent!" The leader said, "Two points for you, Utivich. Find this girl a switchblade, boys."
They spread out around the shop in search of Josie's knife. The leader went into the back for a few minutes and returned with a drowsy looking man, which Josie assumed to be the owner.
"Over here's a few good ones," yelled a soldier.
Josie rushed over, "Merci beaucoup, Monsieur!" She was a little overwhelmed at the thought of having her own knife.
"Don't worry about it, babe." He said, opening the case and taking out a thin black sheath. He gave it a flick and a blade shot up. "You can carry this with you, it'll be less noticeable."
Josie made a move to take the knife from the soldier, but he took a step back, still admiring the knife, "I think I need to get one of these for myself. This one is really fucking nice."
Josie cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but it seems like you are very well armed. I, on the other hand, am not." She held out her hand.
He laughed and put the knife in her hand, "Take it easy, will ya? That's a good knife, I just wanted to look."
Josie felt the weight in her hand and then curved her fingers around the sheath, "Oui, I like this. Will it be best for stabbing or for slicing?"
The soldier raised his hands in front of him, "Whoa, sweetheart, you're getting a little carried away, don't ya think?"
Josie laughed, "Coming from a man who has probably killed many." She studied this man as well. He had dark hair that was slicked back, and dark eyes. Behind a group of medal-like things dangling from his neck was a mass of dark hair on his chest. He smiled at her comment, and she noticed he had a smile that was devious and playful at the same time.
In a low voice, he said, "You don't know the half of it." Josie was suddenly a little frightened.
"I'm Donny," The soldier said. "Sergeant Donny Donowitz." He held out his hand.
Josie took it and gave it a quick shake, although she didn't really want to. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for your help." She turned and began walking toward the owner so she could pay for her new knife.
"Wait, you didn't say your name. That's usually how these things work…" Donny said as he followed Josie.
She didn't turn to face him as he leaned on the case while she fished some money out of her bag and gave it to the store's owner.
"Listen… Donny, I do appreciate you and the rest of the soldiers helping me. But I have no interest in fraternizing with military men. So for that reason, I'm not going to tell you my name." Josie finally looked up at him, only to see him looking slightly disappointed and confused. "Au revoir." She said as she turned and then walked out.