Chapter 11- Wasting in His Lonely Tower
...
Luc was alone that night, and the next day- and the next day after that.
He had nothing to do except sleep, raid the rest of the food that Emilie had brought, and take a little exercise by lifting the bench up and down. He tried to occupy his mind by counting repetitions on his bench lifts until he reached one hundred. When he finished with that, he stared out the small window through the tattered curtain for hours, making certain that no one on the busy street could accidentally spot the unsightly man peeking out, staring down at them like a ghoulish specter.
Snow fell on the third day that Luc was alone. He had no calendar, but was nearly certain that it was now the beginning of December. His guess was confirmed when he saw people putting holly wreaths and red ribbons on their doors. The holiday season had always added a quaint charm and light to a time of year when darkness and cold moved in, demanding more wood for the fires and oil for lamps.
Luc did not want to go out to buy the things needed for light or comfort. He didn't deserve them. An insane man of a monstrous appearance would simply be a blight upon this city of snowflakes and the laughter of children. So inside his apartment he remained, only venturing outside when the bitterly cold darkness fell.
On the fourth night alone, he desperately wanted to bathe. He waited until midnight, and then he padded down the stairs and out to the back of the apartment building wrapped in a blanket as a cloak. He grasped the handle of the communal water well pump and pushed it hard, causing it to make a much louder squeaking noise in the hour's stillness. He worked quickly, the chill water splashing in the bucket with each 'squeak.'
"We're trying to get some sleep around here! You're rude pumping the water at this hour of night!" a woman screeched out her window above.
"I'm sorry," Luc said, his voice a hoarse croak. "My wife is sick and we're fresh out of cold water!" he added. A lie, to gain some sympathy.
"All right then. I do hope she gets better!" came the woman's less-harsh reply.
"Thank you," he muttered, hefting the bucket and carefully bringing back upstairs. He used the last few pieces of kindling wood to heat part of the water in a tea kettle. When it boiled, he poured it with the cold water in a small tub bucket, making it comfortably warm. He stripped down by candlelight, finding a block of lye soap and washing up awkwardly. Much of his body as well as his face was dotted with smallpox scars; he could never bring himself to really examine them until now. Bathing would not get rid of them, but his skin was much more refreshed now and felt better. He vowed to do this every night, so as not to feel like such a wretched animal.
It took a long time for him to fall asleep. He pondered in aching guilt about how his attitude and rude manner had repelled Emilie. He could have had a companion for a few days, but he ruined it. This innocent girl had come to him, given selflessly, but he sent her away. And he realized now that it had nothing to do with how he looked!
She had only wanted to help. Perhaps even be a kindred spirit and friend, having suffered a similar fate. But Luc Avenant, fool as he was, failed again when it came to wanting to rejoin the human race.
In the wee hours of morning, Luc finally fell into a dream. This time he was swimming in a river, accompanied by large fish that bit his ankles and tried to devour his feet. The fish soon transformed into mermaids. They were strangely beautiful mermaids with seaweed-green hair; their humanlike skin a pale blue color. The river turned cold and icy, and the mermaids swimming beside him shivered, ice crystals forming in their hair. Luc felt cold overtaking him. An unseen fish bit his right toe painfully. He yelled out in anger the moment he woke up.
Reality would prove to be worse. His room was icy cold. He spotted the reason he'd felt a 'fish' biting his foot. It was not a fish at all, but a rat. He spotted the rodent scurrying away the moment he yelled and kicked his foot.
"Damn!" he cried out, reaching to grab his nearby boot to fling at the creature. It was gone from sight. Luc's skin crawled, his toe throbbed. How many rats were in this apartment now? He observed his big toe, the bite mark oozing with blood.
"You better not give me rabies, you filthy vermin!" he screamed aloud, incensed. He stood up and rushed into the main sitting room, his mind swirling with images of more rats, rats everywhere. He washed his bitten toe, finding a scrap of cloth to tie around it in lieu of a bandage.
He had to get out of this place!
It was no longer habitable for human use. He tried to remember if there had been a rat infestation during previous winters when he and Aunt Agathe had lived there. His memory of this detail was miserably blank. Luc decided the only thing he could do was to set traps. Finding the crumbly remains of cheese in the larder, he set pieces of it on small plates. Sitting quietly, Luc huddled in his blanket, clutched his fireplace poker in eager hands and waited. And waited.
After an hour, the rat- about four inches long with an equally long, pinkish tail- crept out of whatever crevice it had been hiding in and approached a plate of cheese in the corner nearest where Luc was crouched.
Luc leapt across the room and attacked with the agility and speed of a panther. He struck the rat with his iron poker, crushing and killing it in one swift hit. Blood splattered from the small animal onto the wooden floor.
Within seconds, he cried out in pain as his own head was overcome with a blinding, migraine ache. His vision blurred, he felt woozy and faint, collapsing onto the floor. Visions and dreams enveloped his mind again. This time, the vision was pleasant and ethereal.
A beautiful woman with long blonde hair appeared to him. She wore a silver mink coat and winter fur hat beneath a jade green gown. Her eyes were kind, but her voice was full of warning and reproach. 'Luc Avenant, you have killed a living creature. You are forbidden from killing, even if you feel that it was justified,' she called out.
"Who are you?" he demanded in his dream. He took a second glance at her, and a faint recognition came upon him. She looked exactly like that barmaid in the green dress from months before! The one who had healed his burning mouth when he had taken a drink of alcohol!
'You could say that I am your guardian spirit.' she replied.
Luc's soul burned with an indignant rage. "So what am I supposed to do? Let rats eat me alive? If you're my goddamned 'guardian spirit' or angel, or whatever you claim to be, what have I done to deserve this?" His voice croaked, and he blinked back angry, self-pitying tears.
'I understand that the animal harmed you. But next time let someone else do the killing. And I want you to accept help from your friends. Reach out to others!' she cried out.
"Why?" he spat, still in the midst of his unconscious vision. He watched her fade away, her gentle plea of 'Reach out to others!' echoing through his mind's ear.
The reality of his cold apartment began to resurface. He could hear a knocking sound; at first it sounded far away. As his brain returned to consciousness he recognized the fact that someone was indeed knocking on his door.
"Luc!"
"Jean?"
"Luc, can you please let me in?" Jean Paquet demanded, his voice unusually stern.
"Come in...please," he cried out, his voice sounding pathetic once he'd uttered it. Jean came in alone. His eyes widened at the sight of his long-ill friend splayed on the floor next to what appeared to be a dead rat.
"What happened to you?" he exclaimed. "For heaven's sake, it's freezing cold in here! You have no firewood left! Are you sick again?"
"I-I...that rat..it bit me. It bit my foot, and then I killed it, and I think I...fainted. Damn it, Jean!"
"Mon Dieu! Those things can be deadly! They carry rabies, maybe even the plague! I have to get you out of here. It isn't good for you to be alone in a place like this!"
"Jean, please. I'll be fine," he tried to argue. Jean knelt on the floor and examined his toe with the cloth tied around it. It was a minor bite. Concern and worry was etched over the young man's features.
Luc had to admit that he was beyond happy and relieved that he was here. He gazed up at his young friend, and a smile begin to form against his will. "Thank you," he whispered.
Jean shook his head sadly as he returned his gaze. "Oh, Luc. My God, what's become of you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You were once so full of pride and strength...and now you've allowed yourself...oh, never mind!"
"So I'm not good enough to be your friend now?" Luc replied miserably. His anger and outrage had given over to despair.
"No! I care about you, Luc. We used to be a team when we started work on the hotel together. And I've always liked you. I still do."
"I highly doubt that," Luc said, squeezing his eyes shut to fight the miserable stinging of tears. A sob threatened to burst through his chest. He was about to scream at Jean to 'get out'- but something made him hesitate.
"Don't doubt it. It's true. You've been through hell, mon ami. I understand that it wasn't fair."
"No. It's not fair! What have I ever done to deserve a life like this?"
"I don't know, mon ami. But you're strong and you can get through this setback in your life. I came here today- well, there's two reasons. One, that I wanted to tell you how disappointed I am with how you treated Emilie."
"I didn't mean to hurt her, I just wasn't in the mood for visitors!" he said through clenched teeth. "You shouldn't have made her deal with me. It's your fault, Paquet."
"I couldn't let you die or starve yourself without finding someone to watch over you. She told me she thought you were an interesting person to talk to, at least for a while."
"She did?" He could barely recall much of his actual conversation with Emilie through the fog of his anger and despair. Yet, he remembered perfectly well that he'd uttered his wish for his own death in front of her, deeply offending her. She'd been there to offer him comfort in his need, but his prideful spirit was unable to take it.
"Do you remember the things you said to her when she was here?" Jean pressed.
"I think...I told her I don't deserve to exist, and she doesn't need to help someone like me. It's the truth, you know."
"No, it's not! Look, Luc. The smallpox is in the past, now. It's all behind you! You need to stop loathing yourself and for God's sake- make yourself well again! It breaks my heart to see a decent friend down and out. Look at you! Lying on the floor, letting the rats eat you alive? You can get out of here."
"How?" A tear trickled down Luc's cheek as he fixed Jean's gaze.
Jean was pained to be a witness to such human misery. It was almost like the Great Plague of Paris, all over again. Except that it was descending on one man only. He remembered Job in the Bible, and hoped for a chance to tell Luc the story- if he was willing to hear it out.
"I wanted to tell you about a new work opportunity. Where you can make twice as much money and can live in comfort and luxury. I am in earnest," said Jean.
"What kind of silly fantasy are you talking about, Paquet?"
"If you're not interested, and if you'd rather rot in squalor amongst the rodents, I'll take my leave right now." Jean stood up and walked to the door after that declaration.
"Wait!" Luc pleaded, reaching out a desperate hand.
Jean turned around. "Are you interested? Are you feeling well enough to work again?"
Luc clambered up to his feet. Despite the sting of pain in his toe, his previous head pain and fainting spell was completely gone. He felt awake, normal. His great desire amongst all the others fought for dominance in his soul, and that desire was to get back into the world and do something again. Be useful, be productive. Be a man again. His pride could not, would not allow another day like this one. He did not want to die here anymore, only to be devoured by rats!
There had to be a way out. And if Jean was offering a lifeline, he would take it.
"I'm not sick anymore, Jean!" he cried out. "Believe me! I can do it! I've got to get out of this hellhole, Jean. Please...tell me about that opportunity."
Jean's face lit up with a beaming, ear-to-ear smile. Before Luc knew it, the slender little man rushed to him and gave him a genuine hug. Luc found himself embracing the younger man back, shedding real tears of relief and joy.
"Thank you. Thank you, Jean, for coming here. You...you practically saved my life."
Jean drew back and clutched the taller man's shoulders, his young blue eyes meeting his older friend's watery yet fierce gaze. He barely even noticed the smallpox scars anymore. Luc was coming back to life, regaining his indomitable spirit.
Not only that, there was something different coming over him, so strong that Jean could almost feel it radiating from the older man. There was no foolish arrogance in Luc's attitude, like there had been before his illness. His attitude was that of sincere hope. Not vanity.
"You're a fighter, Luc Avenant! Don't you ever forget it," Jean declared, patting his shoulders.
"Thank you," Luc repeated, sweeping a finger over his moist eyes, heaving deep breaths of cleansing emotion. He couldn't utter the words enough. "Thank you. I needed encouragement. I needed...a friend."
"It's okay! You're going to be okay, mon ami."
"Where's Emilie?" Luc asked. "I have to speak to Emilie again."
"Emilie? She's...the truth is, she's traveling out of Paris today. She and her sister Adelaide are back in service to the Marquis and his family. Out on his new country estate."
Luc turned away, sadness crossing his features. "So she's gone."
"Well, yes-"
"Will you be able to see her again soon? I mean...I treated her badly." Luc mumbled.
"Luc, listen to me. I'm going to head out next Monday to their country home, where Emilie went. The Marquis hired me as his own stonemason and carpenter! I've got a promotion, and I don't have to work for Masson anymore. I am officially on the Marquis' personal staff! You should have seen the look on Clémence's face. She's overjoyed! She is going to live on the estate with me, and help out in the kitchens! It's a dream come true. We can raise our future children away from the crowded streets of Paris, with nature, and trees, and gardens, and-"
"So you're leaving Paris?" An ache erupted deep in Luc's heart. Everyone was leaving.
"Yes, but that's what I wanted to ask of you!" Jean's excited, boyish voice rose an octave. "The Marquis' head of household was asking for one more stonemason and builder to make a four-man crew. To add more rooms to his estate. I guess the Marquis' father passed away recently, and now he wants to move his family out of the city. His new inherited house is grand, but some of the walls and rooms need repair. They aren't up to the Marquis and his wife's choosy tastes."
"Well, congratulations," Luc mumbled.
"Did you not hear what I just said? I'm asking you if you want to join me!" Jean was in a manic, bubbly state as he clutched at Luc's arm. "I already told Monsieur Valois that I had a strong, agile friend who was a hard worker and would be perfect to add as the fourth member of our team. You!"
"Me? I'm not sure I'm as good as I used to be. I've been sick so long, I lost some of my strength, and, just look at me," he sighed, averting Jean's eyes in hesitation. "You're too kind, but this is too much-"
"Come with me to my place. Clémence will be cooking fish and au gratin potatoes tonight, a celebratory dinner. You must join us. Luc, I think you can be as good as you were two months ago. Your problem is all right here." Jean touched Luc's temple. "Good work and a change of scenery are what you need. I demand you join us for dinner and stay the night. Pack your bags, old man! You're leaving with me to apply for a new job, whether you like it or not."
Luc breathed a sigh of resignation, and gave his friend an uncertain but hopeful grin. "Guess I don't have a choice, do I, Paquet?"
"No, you don't." Jean smiled up at him in triumph.
Luc stepped forward and gave Jean another strong, firm embrace. "Thank you. Thank you again, for all you've done. You're the best."
...
Hundreds of miles away, in a hidden hideaway in the forest of eastern France, Agathe was also weeping tears of joy. She held the brass coat button in her hand. It was glowing an actual reddish color, for the very first time.
After recovering from her emotion, she utilized her Mirror to call up Aloysius. He answered after a delay of several minutes.
"'Allo? Bonjour, Agathe dear! I'm busy, as you can see!"
"Aloysius- what are you doing?" she asked, observing through her Mirror to see the Enchanted man shrinking items in order to fit into a tiny, midnight-blue carpetbag. He sang out his spells in a melodic mix of Latin and faux-English rhyming nonsense.
"I'm busy right now, Agathe! Packing up all of my things to move. The girl, Emilie, is leaving Paris, and I am no longer useful here. I need to change my cover operation, thanks to you."
"You mean the fact I assigned her to you?"
"Precisely. I enjoyed having little to do other than give away free food and charity to lucky Sans-Magies on the street. I was comfortable in my fine quarters. Now what am I going to do? Where am I to go to stay in close contact with this girl?"
"You must go on to where she will be. Perhaps you can show up as a member of that noble family's cook staff?"
"But I would have to go there, and interview, and be hired, don't I? And I'm not a cook! I'm just an old magic man, unimpressive in appearance when one doesn't know of my powers."
"Alter the memories of those who hire staff. Let them believe you've always been there as their cook. It's the easiest thing to do," Agathe suggested. "Watch Emilie through your Mirror, and when you have the location of her new home, go ahead and project yourself there."
"Very well then. I will let you go and keep watch of her. Enjoy your little vacation, Agathe dear. Adieu!"
"Adieu." Agathe hung up her end of the communication, and took a comfortable seat to observe Luc Avenant. At the moment, he was outdoors in the light of day for the first time in months. He was sitting in a cab carriage next to a young man, laughing and conversing. After some time, they disembarked the cab and went to a modest building, greeting a plainly-dressed young woman in an apron. The woman hugged and kissed Luc's friend, while Luc observed them with an awkward smile. She then turned to Luc and hugged him in a warm greeting. All was well with him- so far.
Agathe wanted to do something to reward him for his progress. Whispering a spell, she gave him the blessing of restored health and physical strength. Though she felt the urge to heal his facial scars, she decided that it wasn't the best choice at the moment.
"True beauty is found from within," she reminded herself, cradling Gaston Legume's old coat button in her fingers, feeling its warmth. It was still glowing a rosy hue.
...
