IF LOVE WERE A FLOWER
Escape
Meg Giry went to the bank to take out money from her mother's bank account. She had done so before, she had a written authorization to do that. Only this day the bank employee refused and informed her that all her and her mother's accounts had been blocked by order of the magistrate and the account books had been confiscated. Meg hurried home to tell her mother, she was scared the police had finally found out they were aiding the Phantom.
Antoinette nearly fainted when her daughter informed her. She told her daughter to dress in plain clothing like peasant women would do and put on boots, now that the police had the account books they had to run for it because it was just a question of time until they found the evidence they needed to arrest them.
"Mother, what have you done?" Meg asked frightened.
"No time for explanations! Come!"
"But... how do we inform Erik that he's on his own from now on?" Meg asked.
"He'll notice as soon as he runs out of supplies," Antoinette replied, "Come on, we have to leave the city before we are at large!"
"How are we going to meet him again?" Meg asked as they locked the door and left as if they were just going shopping, each of them carrying a basket with what little they could take with them: a blanket for each one of them and the money and jewelry they had. Since it was a rather cold day no one wondered that they wore warm cloaks and woolen scarfs, they were sure they would need them soon.
"There is a little hunter's lodge a few kilometers outside of Paris," Antoinette explained reluctantly, "Meg, you must never underestimate Erik. He always thought that there might be a day when he would have to flee - that's why he told me of many hidden points where we could secretly met, like the crypt. His lair was initially only a backup plan. When other people think of plan A and B, Erik is already busy preparing plan L or M, you understand?"
Two women in typical working class clothing didn't draw much attention and they passed the streets without any troubles. Leaving the city was no problem at all, they just went along with other people who were on their way home from their shift in one of the factories.
Erik did not know what had happened, he only noticed that the Giry's failed to leave supplies for him. This was not good, either they had been forced to run themselves or they had been arrested. There was only one way to find that out: If they were just on the run they would leave a message for him in the wood, he knew exactly where. If there was no message, they had been arrested and he could do nothing for them. He could only try to save himself now. Erik hated to have to run now without being able to come up with a plan where to go and how. He would have to improvise now.
Feeling slightly guilty he followed a storm water sewer pipe, crawling on hands and knees and cursing the rubbish and dirt and water that was so high in that pipe it reached to his shoulders, but the pipe was too small, he could only crawl and silently pray that it was not raining just now or the water would fill the last twenty centimeters of the pipe and drown him. He felt panic rise in his chest and tried to crawl as fast as he could manage. The fear of drowning in that pipe was overpowering, but there was no going back now. He could only pray that he would reach the riverbank of the Seine before the water level was so high he would no longer be able to breathe.
"Please, God, don't let me drown... please don't let me drown... please..." he repeated in his mind as he thought he noticed the water rising - or was it just panic and exhaustion that caused him to think it was? "Don't drown me as I had drowned them!" he screamed in the narrowness of the waterpipe, no one would hear him anyways. He shuddered at the thought of the men he had drowned in the lake to keep his lair secret, to keep himself safe from the law with its chains and bars. "Please let me live," he whimpered, doubling his efforts to escape the pipe. He no longer cared if there were guards at the exit. If there were policemen he would not have the strength to stay hidden and wait for them to leave, he would allow them to take him away, he just needed to breathe.
It was pitch black and only slightly raining when Erik reached the end of the pipe. The water was already dangerously high and he was not able to hold on to the pipe or the stonework there, he fell into the river, his drenched clothing dragging him down. He managed to kick off his shoes and open his trousers so he could kick them off as well, then tried desperately to come to the surface, broke it, managed to get a couple of deep breaths before the next swirl dragged him down again.
Time was lost on Erik as he made it up again, struggling to keep his head over the water. He had always fancied himself a very good swimmer, but the river Seine was too much for him. Luckily he had fallen in at one side and the stream dragged him towards the riverbank, but he was still within the city and his hands only touched wet, slippery stones, he couldn't find something to hold on. If he had any breath left he would have cried for help now, being arrested seemed not so bad now that he was close to drowning.
Suddenly he found hold on one of the boats that were tied there close to some bridge. Erik couldn't see where he was, it was far too dark. It was a rather small boat, but he had grabbed a line and was able to pull himself up and into the boat. At first he could only lie there, struggling to catch his breath, from time to time coughing and spitting water. He shivered with cold and tried to think of what he could do next. He reached up and found that his ring was still there - so that was all he had now. A shirt and a ring. He had lost the knife that had been tied to his trousers.
Sitting up he decided to steal the boat. He would just lie down and let it drift down the river. Whoever owned this little wooden boat was utterly careless for he had left one oar in the boat and a rather large piece of canvas that had been used to cover the boat. He crawled under the canvas and just stayed there as the small boat was floating down the river as if the empty boat had loosened itself.
In the first light of day Erik managed to bring the boat to the riverside and climb out of it. He was shivering with cold, the only clothing he had - the shirt and the canvas - drenched. He needed some time to find out where he was and decided it would be best to hide and wait for the night. He had two or three hours forced march before him if he wanted to head for the hunters cabin where he hoped to find at least one of the Girys. He dreaded being all alone now, he was not sure he would be able to survive alone.
Marching barefooted through undergrowth was painful, but he had no choice. He had to go there, then he would at least know for sure if the Girys were still with him or had been captured or had just abandoned him. Since the hunting cabin belonged to a rich nobleman - ironically the de Chagny family - he hoped to find something he could use there. Maybe some blankets and a knife or even food.
When he reached the small hunters cabin he saw that there was a fire lit in the tiny stove, he could clearly see the light from the fire through the windows. Was this some hunter? If it was an unfortunate huntsman he would have to kill him to steal the clothing and the weapons. He almost hoped it might be someone he could kill and rob, his survival instincts were much stronger than any conscience he ever had and he had only too soon forgotten his prayers when he was close to drowning.
As he dared to look through the small window he recognized Antoinette and her daughter immediately. With a sigh of relief he opened the door and came in. They had not been captured and had not abandoned him.
"Erik, thank goodness!" Antoinette exclaimed and tried to hug him. Erik stared at her and suddenly noticed the smell of alcohol on her breath. Of course, why else would she try to hug him?
"Have you been drinking?" he asked.
"Only a ti-ti-tiny li-li-little bit," she giggled, "We found a bottle, but no food and thought it might warm us."
"I see," Erik helped her to sit down on one of the two benches in the next to Meg who was staring at his bare feet. "It's rude to stare," he snapped and pulled the canvas closer around his shoulders to cover himself.
"Your feet. One, two, three... no, this can't be... one, two, three, four, five, six. Am I really this drunk?" Meg asked.
With a sigh Erik sat down and placed his feet close to the stove to get warmed up. "No, I do have six toes each foot," he answered, "Now give me that bottle!"
All three woke the next morning because the birds were singing. Usually they might have appreciated this, but right now the twittering of birds sounded like loud screeching in their ears.
To her absolute horror Antoinette Giry found herself lying in the floor with her daughter at her left side and Erik at her right. Had they really slept on the floor under one and the same blanket? At least they were dressed. Except Erik, he seemed to have lost his trousers somehow and had wrapped a dirty woolen blanket around his hips like a wraparound skirt. It was one of the blankets they had found in this small hunters cabin.
"Get up!" she snapped. Meg groaned and buried her face in her arms. Erik bolted and was on his feet in no time, his eyes moving rapidly as he looked carefully for any danger.
"It is broad daylight," Erik observed, "Do you think we can risk moving on?"
"No," Meg replied, she was still lying on the floor.
"Meg, this is no time for sleeping! We can't stay here, we need something to eat and a plan where to go," her mother rebuked but not as sternly as she had intended to.
"No. I don't need food."
Erik sighed and started searching the cabin for some items they might use. Two folding knifes, one of them small, one large. The smaller one was rusty. Three bottles of some fine hard liquor, one empty. Two dirty woolen blankets, one already wrapped around his hips like a skirt, the second one partly torn. He decided that he would have to use the second blanket like a hooded cape to conceal his face should they be seen by anyone. He used the knife to cut the canvas so he could use it like bandages on his bare feet, making it easier to walk. He didn't have shoes now.
Not much later three ragged beggars were seen on the street, supporting each other. No one did look twice, everyone kept away from them. They were just stinking beggars, most likely to be infested with all sorts of parasites that came with filthiness.
They did not really know where they were going, but all three of them had the strong urge to move on, knowing that all three of them were wanted by the police now. It was easier for the two women for they were sure that no one who had known them on Paris would recognize them now. They had cut off their long and formerly beautiful hair because it was hopelessly matted and dirty, they were dressed in dirty rags and certainly looked every bit like clochards. Erik tried to conceal his height walking hunched, pretending to be a hunchbacked woman, an effect hightened by the blankets he wore like they were a dress. Antoinette had given him her scarf so he could conceal his face better, even if he had to cover one eye now, reducing his sight.
"Where are we going?" Meg asked. She was under the impression that her mother and Erik were keeping her in the dark when she was the innocent one, she had done nothing wrong, while she strongly suspected her own mother now of having been the right-hand-woman of the Phantom of the Opera all the time.
"Calais," her mother replied, "We need to leave France. We have to go away as far as possible."
"Calais? Where is Calais?"
"Silly girl!" Erik snapped irritated, "Calais is about 300 kilometers north of Paris, you can get to Dover, England, from there easily."
"Three hundred kilometers? Do you expect us to walk on foot?"
Erik shrugged. "Clochards can't take the train without raising suspicions - we can't risk that. If we make about 5 kilometers per hour and keep that up for about ten hours a day we should be there in six days. Come on - six days is not that much!"
Only that it wasn't six days. Erik alone would have made it in that time, no doubt, but Madame Giry suffered from pain in her leg - the injury that had put an untimely end to her career as dancer and left her depending on a walking cane. She had a crude stick now to lean on, but she was not able to walk ten hours a day and certainly not at Erik's rather fast pace. Meg on the other hand, being a well-trained ballerina, would eventually outrun Erik with her strong legs and her stamina. At first Erik decided to carry Antoinette on his back only to find that he couldn't. He could carry her a few kilometers, but then he had to stop and rest, slim as she was, she was too heavy to be carried all the time.
Food and water was another problem - masquerading as beggars they were avoided and ignored by other people, if they were seen at all, for Erik had decided not to use roads where they would likely encounter others but used small trails aside from the roads. They could drink water from rivulets and sometimes had to go to a village to fetch water from the well. To get some food Erik had to take the risk of approaching villages and steal things. He stole not only food but other things they needed too like clothing, a bag and finally a handcart. Antoinette would sit on the cart, Erik could draw it and Meg had to carry the bag with what little they had - three blankets and a little food and a bottle of water to be refilled whenever they found some water.
Erik always carried a large sharp kitchen knife for the purpose of cutting his own throat should he find himself cornered one day. He would not allow himself to be captured. Antoinette rebuked him sometimes for that, telling him he was a coward to even consider suicide and leaving two helpless women to stand trial alone, but Erik just offered to kill them first, should they prefer death.
To their great surprise they actually were driven away by the police sometimes for they didn't allow workshy filthy ragtag in their villages, but not one of them asked for papers - which they would never be able to show - or even looked carefully enough to see that one of the three female beggars was in truth a man and he didn't wear the headscarf tied that way for fun but to hide his deformity.
Erik did not consider himself well-disguised. His height made it close to impossible to pretend to be a woman, but since he was drawing the hand-drawn cart he usually walked bend forward to steady himself, he looked smaller than he was and dressed in rags as he was, especially with the skirt he now wore, could be mistaken for a woman. Of course not to anyone who had paid any attention, but who looks twice at clochards anyways? It is amazing what one can hide right under the police's nose just by not hiding it at all.
They arrived in Calais relatively unharmed and really surprised how easily they had evaded any control - in fact, they had been seen by so many people - even policemen - that they had been sure never to make it to Calais, but all that had happened was that they were driven away, sometimes they would receive a beating, no one had ever bothered to ask for papers or even asked them to show their faces. Obviously no one was interested in three female beggars.
They found a hidingplace near Calais, it was just a half-collapsed shack that had obviously been abandoned. Erik announced that it was "free" and the former tenant had suddenly decided to move out - neither Antoinette nor Meg questioned this, but they suspected him of just strangling the unfortunate man who had been forced to live there and dumped his body in the sea - so they could "move in". Erik was trying to sound cheerful, they were all exhausted and hungry and needed some good news badly so he had taken it upon himself to pretend optimism and good mood, making plans for the future - he thought about going to London and form there to Africa. He knew in Africa were mines where men were digging for diamonds. With his knowledge about tunnel systems and statics he was sure he would find a job protecting a mine form thieves and keeping the workers in line. He didn't tell them that this was just a fantasy, right now he had no real plans for the future. He would need to be on firm ground again, before he could start making real plans for the future and he wasn't sure he was ready to admit that there would be a future for him, but he thought the two women needed some optimism now. He only succeeded in driving both women nearly mad with his black humor.
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