A/N: There is a small (one sentence) mention of child abuse in this chapter.
"Erik, can I ask you a question?" Christine said, putting her mop aside and sitting down on a box.
"Of course," Erik replied.
Christine had now been cleaning the black caravan for two weeks, including a complete mopping every Saturday morning in preparation for the busiest night of the week. She had developed a routine for the black caravan, always leaving it to the end of her chores. Every morning she would greet Erik when she arrived at the caravan. She would then get rid of the rubbish that she could see in the immediate vicinity of the doorway before closing the door and waiting for her eyes to adjust. Whilst she was waiting she would chat away to Erik about what she had planned for the rest of the day or something interesting that had happened the previous night. He didn't say much, finding that he liked hearing about what was happening in the camp from Christine, rather than overhearing bits of conversations from his keepers and the people who visited the caravan at night.
"You always stay at the end of the caravan, don't you?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes," he responded equally cautiously, not sure whether he was comfortable with where this conversation could lead. So far Christine had refrained from asking any questions about his situation and he wasn't willing to risk their budding friendship by volunteering any information.
"When I first came here and you spoke to me, it sounded like you were moving around the caravan. How did you do that?" she enquired.
Erik breathed a small sigh of relief. Today wouldn't be the day where the one glimmer of happiness in his otherwise miserable existence disappeared. Even though he had only known Christine for two weeks, he couldn't remember how he had survived without her visits. "A voice trick. Making my voice sound like it's coming from a different location to where I am."
"Oh," Christine said in amazement. "Is it hard?"
"I don't find it difficult. But I don't think it's something everyone can do," he explained.
"Well who taught you how to do it?" she said, considering the matter. Her Papa has always taught her what she needed to know. And now Vadoma and Talaitha were teaching her.
"I taught myself," he said plainly.
"You must be really smart," Christine said, duly impressed.
Erik didn't respond and Christine didn't continue, realising that the conversation was over for the moment. Sliding off the box and taking the mop up, she made her way to the bucket of water and continued to clean the caravan floor. She mopped in silence for a few minutes, whilst Erik watched.
Searching for something to say, Erik finally asked, "Have you finished sewing the new curtains for your caravan yet?" Christine had told him about the ongoing saga to stop the sun shining in her eyes in the morning. The latest idea was new curtains out of the thickest, heaviest material they could find. When Talaitha heard about it she considered it to be a perfect sewing task for Christine.
"No," Christine sulked, a look of distaste marring her features. "The fabric is so thick; it takes forever just to do one stitch."
Erik was about to respond when suddenly the caravan door slammed open. Christine immediately raised her hands to shield her eyes from the light suddenly assaulting her eyes and involuntarily stepped closer to the wall.
"I thought I heard voices in here," the man sneered. Christine recognised him as Nicu, one of Danior's most trusted men. Turning to Christine he asked, "What are you doing in here?"
"I'm c-cleaning," she stuttered. "Danior gets me to clean here every day."
Seemingly satisfied with Christine's answer, Nicu turned his attention away from her and focused on Erik.
"Made a little friend have we, freak?" he asked. Even standing at the back of his cage Erik could smell the alcohol on Nicu.
"Now why would such a sweet little girl want to be friends with you?" he said, blatantly implying that he thought Christine was anything but sweet. "Does she know what you look like? What you are? That you're a monster? Or is that why you make her close the door? So she'll never see you."
Erik didn't respond and Nicu held up his lantern to see that Erik was standing beside the coffin. Emboldened by the lack of reaction from Erik, Nicu took a step closer to the bars, "What do you do with her in the dark? Do you make her touch you?"
"How dare you!" Erik roared, rushing at the bars, ready to strangle Nicu with his bare hands. To even suggest that he would ever hurt Christine, he could barely stand the thought.
But Nicu knew that he was safe and that the bars wouldn't give. "Did I say you could talk monster?" he hollered back. "Disgusting corpse! Danior should have let us kill you years ago."
Christine had been quiet up until this point, too scared to move and hoping that Nicu would just shout for a bit and then leave. But she could see that he was getting more agitated and she couldn't bear to listen to him call Erik names for any longer.
"Please stop," she begged. Her voice was quiet but it was loud enough to make Nicu take notice.
Shooting a wicked look at Erik, Nicu stalked over to Christine and grabbed her by the wrist. Pulling her closer to the bars he said "I don't think you've been properly introduced to our star attraction. This is the Living Corpse."
Trying to pull her wrist free, Christine retorted angrily, "He's not a corpse!"
"Have you ever seen him? Do you know what he looks like under that sack he wears on his head? He only has half a face you know," he questioned menacingly.
Even after adjusting to working in the dark for two weeks, Christine still hadn't seen more than a glimpse of Erik's silhouette. She shook her head.
"Well then, maybe you should see what your friend looks like," Nicu said, trying to drag Christine closer to the cage. She redoubled her efforts to pull away from him, putting all of her weight into it.
Erik was still reaching through the bars in an attempt to grab onto Nicu. "Let her go," he yelled.
Through the drunken, angry haze in his mind, Nicu realised that he wasn't going to be able to drag Christine close enough to the cage to see the Living Corpse without it trying to strangle him. He suddenly let go of Christine and she tumbled to the ground. "If you're so eager to get out Corpse, maybe we should bring you to the girl." He started fumbling in his pocket for the key to the cage.
Erik pulled away from the bars and stepped further back into the cage. This was perfect, Nicu was coming to him. As soon as the drunken idiot opened the door Erik would be able to pull him in. He knew there would be hell to pay later but it would be worth it to make sure Nicu was never able to lay another hand on Christine. Her wrist was surely bruised and he wasn't going to let anything else happen to her.
Nicu found the key and opened the lock. As soon as he started to open the cage door Erik darted forward, grabbed him by the collar and began dragging him towards the coffin. Nicu stumbled, trying to keep his footing. Erik hauled him up against the side of the coffin and started to wrap his hands around Nicu's neck. He frantically started pulling at Erik's hands, trying to loosen his grip but Erik just tightened his fingers.
Finding that he wasn't able to force Erik to release his hold around his neck, Nicu reached up and started pulling at the sack that covered his head.
Erik wasn't willing to let go of Nicu and didn't make any attempt to stop him from taking the sack. But then Nicu stretched out his hand and dug his knuckles into Erik's ruined right eye socket. Erik roared out in pain and involuntarily let go of Nicu's neck to get his hands away from his face.
Hearing Erik's scream, Christine called out to the area of the cage where she thought the two men were, "Erik, are you alright?"
"Christine." In all his rage Erik had almost forgotten that the young girl was still in the caravan. "Christine, you have to go, now."
"What? Erik!" she shrieked.
Nicu took advantage of the distraction that Christine was causing and jumped at Erik, tackling him down to the floor. Straddling his waist and pinning his arms down with his thighs, Nicu started punching Erik's face. Alternating fists he focused his attention on the damaged side of Erik's face, knowing it would cause maximum pain. Erik writhed and yelled under Nicu, finally managing to buck him off. Not giving him a moment to recover, Erik starting hitting Nicu indiscriminately. Over the thumping sound of fists hitting flesh Erik could hear Christine whimpering and calling his name.
"Christine. Get out!" he yelled.
Hearing the anger in Erik's voice Christine sprung from the floor and bolted towards the door, not caring that she was leaving her cleaning equipment behind. She jumped off the stairs and started running, almost colliding with a group of men that were also running, but in the direction of the black caravan. She ran to the side of a tent to avoid the group and stopped, panting. Watching them run past she listened to what they were saying.
"Shouting coming from the black caravan."
"I heard a girl screaming."
"Saw Nicu around here a little while ago."
"Has Nicu been drinking again?"
"How could it get out?"
She stared as they all ran into the black caravan. She heard someone call out, "Get it off him."
The men in the caravan were shouting, some in anger, some in encouragement and some in pain. But above it all she could hear Erik, desperately trying to fight the gypsies off. Unable to listen to his cries any longer, she turned and ran further into the safety of the camp.
She ran faster, uncaring of the people who had to jump out of her way. Suddenly she crashed into someone and a pair of warm arms wrapped around her shoulders in order to keep them both upright. "Christine," the voice said laughingly, "What sort of games are you playing? Are the twins with you?"
Christine glanced up to see Talaitha. Seeing the look on Christine's face, Talaitha frowned, "What's wrong Christine? What's happened?"
"The men, they..." Christine trailed off as she started to think about the events which had just transpired and were probably still happening in the black caravan. "He's on his own!" she shrieked before bursting into tears. Her exhaustion took over and she collapsed to the ground, crying.
"What men? Who's on their own? Christine I don't understand," Talaitha said frantically. "Are you hurt?" she continued running her hands over Christine trying to find any injuries.
People were starting to take notice of Christine and Talaitha called out to one of them, "Go find Vadoma."
Satisfied that Christine didn't have any life threatening physical injuries and realising that she wasn't going to get anything coherent out of her, Talaitha sat down on the ground next to Christine and held her, waiting for Vadoma to arrive.
It seemed that no sooner had Talaitha sat down that Vadoma arrived, flying to Christine's side and repeating the same frantic search for injuries that Talaitha had just undertaken.
"She's alright, she's alright," Talaitha soothed. "But maybe we should take her back to your caravan," she said, noting the growing crowd, which mostly consisted of children.
"Yes," Vadoma agreed. Looking down at Christine she brushed the hair out of her eyes. "We need to go back to the caravan. Can you walk?" she asked softly.
Christine nodded, tears still silently streaming down her face. She got to her feet and started walking towards the caravan, flanked on either side by Talaitha and Vadoma. When they reached the caravan Christine walked straight to her bed and curled up in a ball, whilst Talaitha quietly said good bye to Vadoma and explained the little Christine had said.
Vadoma sat on the bed next to Christine and started running her fingers through Christine's curls. After a few minutes she asked, "Did a man hurt you?"
Christine shook her head.
"Is there a man hurt somewhere?" Vadoma continued.
Christine didn't respond, but started crying harder.
Recognising that this approach wasn't going to work, Vadoma tried another tactic.
"Did you do your chores this morning?"
Christine nodded her head.
"Did you go and play with the twins afterwards?"
She shook her head this time.
"Were you able to finish your chores?"
A nod.
Vadoma suddenly remembered seeing Tamas running through the camp saying something about the Living Corpse and needing to find Danior. "Christine, did something happen in the black caravan?" she asked gently.
Christine nodded again and sniffling, pulled herself onto Vadoma's lap. Silently, Vadoma held Christine as she cried.
Gradually, Christine's cries and sniffles became less and less, and realising that she had fallen asleep, Vadoma carefully moved Christine onto the bed and pulled a quilt up over her shoulders. Cautiously walking to the door, she opened it slowly to prevent any squeaks and tiptoeing out, closed the door behind her.
She marched over to Danior's caravan and threw the door open, uncaring that he hated people barging in. She was about to open her mouth when she noticed that he wasn't there. Smiling to herself she realised that this was actually better. If there was anything Danior hated more than people barging into his caravan, it was people being in his caravan when he wasn't there. Sitting down at his desk, Vadoma started randomly picking at the items and papers on it.
She didn't have to wait long. Danior soon burst through the door, swearing under his breath, "What the hell are you doing here?" he snarled at her.
"Good day Danior. Have you had a pleasant morning?" she asked kindly. "I haven't. And Christine hasn't. She's spent a good part of this morning crying herself to sleep."
"I haven't got time for your games Vadoma," he muttered, walking to his desk and pushing her aside to get to the papers.
"Make time," she demanded. "Something happened in the black caravan. What was it?"
"It's none of your concern," Danior snapped, still searching through his papers.
"Yes it is. It's my concern because Christine was there!" she shouted.
"That girl is costing me a fortune," Danior said, suddenly standing up and sweeping the papers off his desk in disgust.
"Don't be ridiculous. She does her chores, just the same as any child in this camp," Vadoma retorted. "What happened?" she demanded again.
"I won't be able to put it on display tonight, our busiest night of the week. And that fool Nicu isn't going to be able to work for at least the next two weeks." Danior's moment of rage having passed, he started gathering up his papers.
Vadoma knew Nicu was one of Danior's most trusted men, as well as one of his closest friends. For Danior to call him a fool meant that something serious had happened. "'It?' The Living Corpse?" she asked.
"Yes you stupid woman," Danior barked. "The Living Corpse. God knows how much money I'm going to lose tonight. It's unconscious. And whilst people like to look at the Living Corpse it helps if it actually moves."
"Why is he unconscious?" Vadoma asked.
"It attacked Nicu, almost killed him. It took six men to drag the creature off him," Danior explained.
"He wouldn't attack unprovoked," Vadoma started.
"Who knows what it's capable of? Nevertheless I asked Nicu what happened. He said that he opened the cage, he wanted to teach a lesson," Danior continued.
"Nicu knows better than that. All the men do." Vadoma frowned.
"Yes well Nicu wasn't exactly himself this morning. I could smell the drink all over him," Danior said shortly.
"What has any of this to do with Christine?" she asked.
"She was the reason Nicu was in there," Danior exploded.
"What are you talking about?" Vadoma said warily.
"Nicu went into the caravan because he heard voices. He said he thought that Christine was being hurt by the monster," he said.
"No. There must be something else going on. Christine's been working in the black caravan for two weeks now. She hasn't had any injuries and she would have told me if something had happened," she said, rubbing her forehead.
"You would trust the Living Corpse over Nicu?" he asked warningly.
"Of course not." Vadoma replied smoothly. "I only mean to say that Nicu is injured, perhaps he doesn't remember everything that occurred. Plus you said that he had been drinking."
"Perhaps," he muttered begrudgingly.
"Christine saw the attack," she stated.
"It seems likely," Danior said, not much caring what the young girl had seen. "Nicu said she was there, that's why he entered the caravan. But no-one saw her at the end."
"What will happen now?" Vadoma asked.
Well it's still unconscious, I won't be able to start showing it again until it wakes up. I'll get more of the girls to dance tonight, hopefully we can start to make up the money that way..." he started explaining.
"I meant about Christine," Vadoma interrupted.
"What about her?" Danior asked.
"You can't expect her to keep working in the black caravan after what happened. She's terrified," Vadoma said in astonishment.
"Yes, I can. She's only been working there for two weeks, I don't want to move the chores around so soon. Besides from what I can see, she suffered the least out of anyone in this situation," he said snidely. "She was obviously being lazy. It shouldn't have taken her that long to clean the caravan, what was she still doing there?"
"She always cleans the black caravan last. How is it your concern if she spends a little extra time there?" Vadoma said, taking a step towards the desk.
"Her spending extra time in there is what caused this entire situation," Danior shouted, grabbing a pile of papers and waving them in Vadoma's face. "Perhaps as her guardian, you should remind her that the attraction caravans are not her personal playground!"
"I believe one of your nephews is quite fond of one of the dancers' tents. Perhaps you should remind him that it isn't his 'personal playground'," Vadoma retorted calmly, turning to walk out the door.
"Get out," Danior barked. But Vadoma was already gone.