Chapter 8:

Paris: At Night

Emma sat near the window of the small wooden box they called a room and watched everyone finish setting up their beds. Hers had already been set up by the time she had reached the room, that was a first. She wanted tot think that Othello had done it but really had no idea.

Everyone climbed into their beds and blew out the small candle, which was the only source of light in the room. Emma wasn't yet in her bed, come to think of it she really didn't have much of a bed, it was just a bunch of blankets spread out on the floor. But even that was better than nothing, back home when she had to visit her grandparents house, they made her sleep on the floor with just a sleeping bag. That sleeping bag wasn't very comfortable when lying on the wooden floor of the living room!

She smiled at the thought of home. It had been only about three days since she had been here, but she really missed home. She thought about her friends, Amanda, Stephanie and Steven. 'I wonder if they even know that I'm gone.' She thought, 'Do they miss me, or am I still just dreaming?'

Bassanio, whose 'bed' was closest to hers kicked. Emma got a strong kick in the side. 'Nope,' she thought gasping for air, 'Not dreaming!' She stood up quietly. Quite a bit of time had passed and it seemed like everyone in the room was asleep, but her.

She walked to the door of the room, kicking only one person in the darkness. She thought that it was Adam but who could be sure in a pitch-black room?

Down a long flight of stairs and out the door she went. To her surprise the streets weren't deserted like the night streets of London. They actually had life in them. The first person she saw was a young man, she guessed about twenty, playing the violin on the corner. She smiled and watched him play until she heard people laughing around the corner.

She rounded the corner and was surprised at the mass of people drinking and talking to each other there. She smiled and walked into the crowd, unnoticed at first, but people started talking to her soon enough. A young boy, he couldn't have been older than fourteen came up to her. He was obviously drunk.

"Bonjour, comment ales vogues?" Emma smiled unsurely and backed away from him further into the crowd.

She backed up into a young man who looked as if he were sixteen, eighteen at the most. He was holding two drinks in his hands that, because of Emma, spilled all over the front of his shirt. He didn't appear to be drunk like the other boy. "I'm sorry," Emma yelled over the commotion of the crowd.

He smiled gently, "Don't worry about it!"

Emma was genuinely surprised at this, not only did he speak English, instead of French, he also sounded almost like he had come from England, which is where she had been the night before this. She was relieved to find someone who spoke the same language as her.

"What's everybody doing here?" Emma yelled back trying, to make herself heard. The young boy grabbed hold of her hand and led her out of the large crowd to a part of the street she had never seen before.

"There is a show," he said once they were far enough away from the crowd to hear easily, " 'Tis one of the first night shows." He smiled.

Emma, now that she was able to hear him better realized a slight twist in his accent. She examined him closely and saw what she thought was red hair, but of coarse it was still very dark outside and she couldn't be sure.

"I now this is totally of subject, but where are you from?" She questioned.

He smiled and seemed proud of his answer, "I am from Ireland, the Emerald Isles, 'tis a beautiful place," His smile loosened a little but did not fade, "And where may I ask are you from, lass?"

Emma smiled but didn't know how to answer, if she said that she was from America he would just think that she were crazy, she wasn't so sure that she wasn't by this point, "I am from England," she swallowed big and went on, "London, to be exact"

The boy's smile broadened, "What 'tis your name? I am Steven O'Riley, son of, John O'Riley and Missus Scarlet Kelly." He stood even prouder at the introduction.

Emma smiled now a little worried about how she would introduce her self, "My name is Emma," She said with a smile hoping that that would be enough. The puzzled look on Steven's face let her know that it wasn't, she continued, "Daughter of James and Lily?"

Steven's face reflected a confused state of mind, but he changed the subject, "Well, miss Emma, the doors to the theater are now open, would ye enjoy seeing a play?"

Emma shook her head, "I need to get back, I'm staying with some friends and they have no idea were I am." She smiled weakly and turned to walk away.

"May I permit you back to your room?" He said from behind her, he put his hands behind his back, trying his best to look proper. She turned and smiled, "Sure."

The crowd had gone into the theater and the only few souls left on the street were themselves and the man playing the violin. Steven held out his arm properly and Emma slid her arm through his. It wasn't a long walk back to where Emma was staying but she still enjoyed the walk.

When they reached the door to the building she was staying in they stopped. Emma turned and looked into Steven's eyes. There was very little light, but in what light she had Emma noticed a glimmer in his green eyes. The whole moment was so romantic (Paris must be a lucky place for love) until a drunken man stumbled up at put his arm around Emma.

"Wha's a lovely lady like you doing with an Irish bastard like him?" He slurred.

Emma tried to ease away from the man while Steven, who was offended by the mans comment, recoiled, "Mind your manners, good sir and get off this young lady!" He shoved the man away from Emma and into the wall behind them.

The drunken man stumbled and slammed his back into the wall, and then stood up as straight as was possible in his state, "You speak of manners, sir, yet you have shown none to me!" Emma noticed that his speech had gotten clearer since he had spoken to her just moments before.

The violin's music stopped in the background but Emma paid on attention to that, the drunken man was walking back over to Emma. He again out his arm around her, "How 'bout we go back to my place, beauty, and I'll show you a good time!" At this Emma shoved him away and backed up.

"Restrain yourself, sir!" yelled Steven, shifting Emma's attention to him. She was scared, and breathing very hard by this point, she kept her eye on the drunken man. It was then that she felt someone grab her from behind and cover her face with a bag. She kicked and screamed, but it was all of it was useless against this mans strength. Soon everything went dark.