Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
By
E. S. Young
Chapter Forty: There's a Bright Side to Everything
Forty chapters . . . . 9.9 e.e x.X . . . . .Yeah. That pretty much sums things up. In other news, in my English lit. class we're reading the King Arthur stories, which reminds me that I have a test on that tomorrow, but other than that . . . while reading the one story (The Tale of Sir Gareth) I could not help but be reminded of this story. Or rather, two of the characters in it: The charming pair (okay, they're not so charming at the moment) of Liam and Lynné. In the story, a kitchen worker named Beaumains is escorting a lovely maiden (who refuses to tell him her name) on a quest to rescue her sister who is being imprisoned by the Red Knight of the Red Lands. During their journey the maiden is really nasty to her escort. I mean severely harsh. She continues to belittle him even though he defeats and wins the alliance of three supposedly 'all powerful' knights. Even though she is cruel to him, Beaumains is still courteous to the maiden. Thing is, he's really a nobleman named Sir Gareth. It's neat, though, cuz even before the maiden learns of this, she confides to Sir Gareth that, despite her harsh words, he is still kind to her and she respects him for that. It reminded me of Lyn and Liam in a way. But what's really creepy is the fact that, when we finally do learn the maiden's name, it's Lady Lynet. Now, practically every country has their own King Arthur tale, but one of the first stories was written in France. So, really, if you want to pronounce the maiden's name correctly, it wouldn't be 'Lin-eht,' it would be 'Lin-ae' as in Lynné. Isn't that creepy? I thought it was, but that's just me.
"Cette conversation est finie." (This conversation is over.)
Joséphine sprung from the bed, her dark eyes suddenly lit with urgency. She had been at one of the mansions for nearly eight hours and only now her grandfather decided to visit her. She knew this could not be right – relatives didn't wait eight hours before checking to see if a family member was safe – but did not waste her time dwelling on the fact.
"Grand- père, non!"
"Joséphine," her grandfather warned, "nous avons été à travers cela." (we have been through this.)
"Dites-moi juste que vous avez fait à Mademoiselle!!" (Just tell me what you have done to Mademoiselle!)
"L'inquiétude pas de l'américain," (Worry not about the American,) he informed her sharply, his cold eyes narrowing in fury that Joséphine could not see. "Elle était seulement une menace mineure à la famille –" (She was only a minor threat to the family – )
"Était!?" (Was!?) Joséphine gaped at him, her small hands clawing at her mouth in horror. "Elle est morte . . . ?" (She's dead . . ?)
"Elle est autant que vous sachiez," (She is as far as you are concerned,) her grandfather said shortly. He adjusted the collar of his shirt importantly, though the action was really a façade to mask how uncomfortable he was really feeling. In the time she was gone, his youngest granddaughter had grown close to the American agents. Disturbingly close. Inside, Édouard Poisson shuddered to think of what that Sands woman had been telling his little granddaughter. What tales had been fed to her from the mouths of the CIA agents? Who knew just how corrupted Joséphine had become during the time of her kidnapping? Édouard could only begin to wonder.
"Mais je suis concerné!" (But I am concerned!) Joséphine protested, her voice cracking in desperation. "Grand-père, s'il vou –" (Grandfather, please –)
But Édouard had had enough.
"Vous resterez dans cette pièce –" (You will stay in this room –)
"Mais Grand-père –"
"— et je ne veux pas entendre un autre mot de protestation!" (– and I do not want to hear another word of protest!)
There was a deafening slam and then, silence. Joséphine sank to the floor, her dark eyes shimmering in defeat. Her legs seemed to have disappeared beneath her. A tiny click sounded from her bedroom door. The sound was quiet, yet it still managed to fill the entire room. Joséphine held back a small gasp when she heard it. For the first time she was experiencing the true disadvantage of her handicap.
She couldn't see . . .
She was blind . . .
But she didn't need her sight to know when she was trapped.
A sharp rapping was what roused Sands from his doze. It was coming from the living room if his ears weren't deceiving him. He sighed, annoyed at the rude awakening but relieved as well. He sight was still intact.
The knocking hadn't disturbed Zebbidy in the least. The young woman slept on, looking as peaceful as she had before he had fallen asleep. He didn't want to wake her, after all, it was likely that she had gotten less sleep than he had over the past four days. But that knocking was driving him crazy. It could have just been room service, but Sands didn't think so. He would go and check it out, but he wanted his guns first and for that he needed to wake Zebbidy.
He reached out and shook her carefully.
"Zeb . . . Hey, Zeb . . . C'mon, time to get up . . ."
Zebbidy woke slowly, obviously still worn out from caring for him, but Sands paid no attention to that. Right now, all she needed to do was tell him where she had stashed his firearms, then she could sleep the day away for all he cared.
"What's wrong?" Zebbidy asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.
"Someone's knocking," he replied as he gazed off in the direction of the noise. "Where'd you put my guns?"
"Top dresser drawer." She shrugged, watching Sands as he rose from the bed and headed toward the piece of furniture. "I thought they should be close but not out in the open – be careful!" she warned when Sands winced as a stream of fiery pain swelled in his chest. His torment was thankfully short-lived, however, and he waved her concern away in a matter of seconds. He pulled the first drawer open and retrieved a pair of pistols, tossing one to Zebbidy. He said nothing; he didn't need to. Looking into his eyes was all Zebbidy needed to know that he was asking something of her: If things got ugly, she was expected to back him up.
As if I haven't done enough for him already, she thought sarcastically, although she knew she had helped Sands as much as she had because her heart would not have allowed her to let him die. Looking up at Sands, she gave him her answer. A small nod was sufficient enough. She would help him if things went awry.
Without another word, Sands began to leave.
"Does this mean you can see again?" The question had slipped out of Zebbidy's mouth, curiosity getting the better of her. But she didn't feel any unease for asking. If anything, she felt entitled to the question.
"What d'you think, sugar-butt?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow sardonically.
Zebbidy rolled her eyes as Sands disappeared from view, but she couldn't suppress a smile when she heard his unspoken thoughts:
I owe her one for that. Thanks, Zeb.
She heard no more after Sands had departed. Then, there was a confused "What the hell?" which was quickly followed by the sound of a door opening. After that, Zebbidy's concern and bewilderment died with Sands' sudden outcry of:
"Fusco??"
"Always look on the bright side of life . . ." Lynné sung under her breath. She shuffled her feet in time with the music that was playing through her head. Her hands were still being bound behind her or else she would have been drumming her fingers instead of tapping her feet, but whatever. She worked with what she had.
Yeah, how're you doin' with that, by the way?
I'm working on it, she told the voice with mild defense.
"Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best..."
Behind her, her hands slipped over the cold metal cuffs as she tried to escape them. What was ruining everything was the chair. Fucking sad excuse for furniture . . . If they had simply handcuffed her and left it at that, she could be sipping a daiquiri at Café Runtz by now.
"And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life..."
But no. Lynné was not enjoying her drink at the moment and it was all because of a chair. It was straining her wrists, pushing against them to the point where she could barely move them. That made things a bit more difficult. Had the chair not been there at all, she could have easily swung her hands under her legs and brought them up to her chest. Getting the cuffs off would be a snap then. And even if she couldn't remove them, she'd still be a lot more comfortable than she was now. Fucking chair. Oh well. Life wasn't always fair, as she was told at least once a week.
"If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing."
Who came up with that damn quote? the voice wanted to know.
Don't look at me. Haven't got a clue.
"And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life..."
With all of the stupid facts you have stored up, you don't know who first started saying 'Life isn't always fair?' The voice was disgusted and it showed. Lyn rolled her eyes and continued to sing.
"For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow."
"So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath."
She could dislocate her thumb. Then she'd be able to get the cuffs off for sure. But . . . no, that wouldn't work. She didn't know how to dislocate her thumb. Well . . . she knew how... she just wasn't sure if she wanted to risk it. It would be the first time she had done it, after all.
And if I do it wrong, I could be in a whole shitload of trouble. Hell, I could lose the use of my thumb for good.
You might not.
But I might. There's a fifty- percent chance that I'll get the cuffs off, and a fifty- percent chance I'll be a cripple for the rest of my life. Now, which would you prefer?
"Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you."
Okay, okay, you've got a point, the voice allowed begrudgingly. But I still think you're a pussy for not trying it.
Dually noted.
"And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life..."
Slowly, the door in front of her began to creek open. Lynné watched it with mild interest. She had seen many doors open in her lifetime. There wasn't anything really special about this one, so she didn't devote much of her attention to it.
"And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life..."
Who d'you think it is? the voice asked curiously.
Probably some goon coming to 'punish me.' I've been so bad after all.
You gonna give into them?
Fuck no, why would I?
Just wondering.
"I mean - what have you got to lose?
You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!
Always look on the right side of life..."
"Mademoiselle Sands," a deep voice began, "I am Alphonse Poisson. Perhaps you have heard of me?"
She shrugged her shoulders as much as the accursed chair would allow.
"You're name may have come up while I was sifting through some files, yeah. Other than the fact that you're Édouard's son, we never considered you someone of great importance."
Alphonse smoothed his thin moustache, his hooked nose wrinkling into a frustrated sneer. Lynné grinned calmly from her seat.
"You know so little." He spat bitterly at her feet. "In due time, mademoiselle, you will learn just how valuable I am to my father." He held up his index finger and Lynné saw a thick, golden ring with a sapphire the size of a robin's egg sparkle in the light of the single bulb.
"One hour," Alphonse continued, "with my cousin, Gaston . . . and we shall see if your mind chances."
Again, Lyn shrugged, determined not to show any emotion towards this news at all. Her face, as if carved out of stone, was calm and careless. Looking into Alphonse's murky eyes she offered one word to him:
"Whatever."
I apologize for this being a day late. Busy schedules and colds tend to eat away at my time. Plus I finally got to see Finding Neverland yesterday. It was excellent! And whoever invented sneak previews has my undying and everlasting thanks cuz without that, I'd never have been able to see it. :) Plus, after I saw FN I got to watch Collateral cuz it's out on DVD now for anyone who didn't know :) And I just noticed something; don't know how I could've forgotten it. After Vincent kills his first person, the cab driver, Max, panics and starts to hyperventilate almost. Seeing this, Vincent says something like "Deep breathing, all right? Breathe, breathe. Just keep breathing." Does that not sound a little like the Laughing Wild line Lynné's always quoting? Strange that I didn't make a note of that the first time I saw the movie. Well, at the time I hadn't planned on making Lyn and Vincentformer lovers either. ;D
Author's Thanks and Review Responses:
vanillafluffy: Good! I was kinda worried about that line not fitting the scene very well, but in the end I couldn't pass it up :) Hmm . . . I'm not sure about the left nut, but you're right. There does seem to be a trend with removing it as far as torture goes. Funny how Liam doesn't get a say in any of this :D
Dawnie-7: Yes, I have a horribly dark mind when it comes to describing people I can't stand, namely Cat. -.e I think it was the episode of South Park where they made fun of the big-nosed skank (which was frickin' hilarious) that got me thinking about it. And I thought 'Yeehaw' was very fitting, glad you agree :)
Lynx Ryder: lol, you can always find more ways to despise Cat and I won't blame you in the least if you do. u.u It's so sweet that you're on Lyn's side rather than Liam's. It's funny, though. While Liam did learn a lot while staying with Lyn in Mexico, his experience really is nothing compared to Sands and Lyn's. :D You have no idea (or maybe you do) how reassuring it is to hear that the flashback had such an affect. For once I wasn't worried about a scene, but there's always that anxious feeling, I think, cuz you never know how stuff's gonna be received. 'It's like they are completely separate and yet hopelessly entwined.' That sums up Sands and his voice just perfectly :D Worry not, I have no intentions of Ajedrez killing off Zeb. Things could always change, of course, but I really doubt they will. Knew I could count on you to notice the descriptions :D I noticed a while ago that, while I know how each room and scene is supposed to look, the readers don't. And while I like to get people to use their imaginations, I have to give some kind of outlet for them to plug their brains into. That's sort of a deep way of saying I like describing things :) Ah, opportune moments . . . they are highly useful when they finally decide to occur -.e
zigzag: I can definitely feel for ya. There are so many times when I have wanted to hug younger-Sands. And older-Sands, too, come to think of it. But they're not the type who're willing to allow that, sadly :( Well, fortunately, Miss Zeb's working on changing that. Oooh, and thank you for recommending music! God knows I love it; will definitely have to download those songs. And it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who listens to a song and thinks of Sands. ;D
morph: Hmm . . . I'm not sure what either of them have on their Christmas lists to tell ya the truth. Although I'm sure if you just gave Sands something alcoholic he wouldn't be disappointed :) And, no, Zeb doesn't have any knowledge of El as of yet, although if there is a third installment containing El she will more than likely receive an image of him :) I was actually thinking of the scene were Sands impersonated the priest for a vision but their first meeting is also good. It's funny how they're both the main characters in OUaTiM and yet they only met face to face twice and then once on the phone.
Jen: lol, yeah, I knew 'poisson' meant 'fish.' Since the Internet was unhelpful in my search for French last names, I decided to go for words I already knew. Oddly, poisson was the only word that came up at the time. I figured it'd be kinda funny to have everyone making this big deal about a mob family and then have said family's name mean fish. (shrug) But that's just me. Thanks for reviewing! :D
fanfiction fanatic: Yeah, a 'B' would fit in pretty well, but anyway . . . I don't mind late reviews if you don't mind late chapters. It all works out, if you think about it. Everything is balanced. ;D
One quick author's note before I remove myself from your presence. This is actually a rather funny story that happened quite a while ago but I have to tell it in order for another story to make sense. Get it? Okay. About a month ago, a bunch of my friends, my dad, and I were all watching the movie From Hell. It was the part where Mary Kelly and Inspector Alberline went to visit Anne in the sanitarium . . .
Anne: (on TV) He's a prince . . . and I'm a queen . . . I'm a queen, I'm a queen . . .
Sid's Dad: Psh.
Sidney: What?
Dad: She's not the queen.
Sidney: What're you talking about? O.o?
Dad: 9.9 She's not the queen. It's Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp is the queen. Just look at the way he acted in Pirates of the Caribbean, sashaying around like a drag queen for Christ's sake!
Everyone: XD
So now, whenever we're in public and want to talk about Mr. Depp while avoiding raving fangirls, my friends and I always refer to Mr. Depp as simply 'The Queen.' :D;; Now, moving on, tonight we put up the Christmas tree in my household . . .
Sid's Mom, Jo-Jo: (while hanging an ornament) Oh, I just love my little snowman. He's so sweet! (beams at the little figure with unfathomabe adoration) 8D!!!
Sidney: (inspects the snowman ornament) -.e That snowman is flaming! :-o
Jo-Jo: What!?
Sid's Sister Tyia: O-O! Oh my God! She's right! Look at it's little purple scarf, at it's little red vest, and . . . that hat's a beret. That's totally a beret. (scrutinizes the little snowman ornament a bit more) -.9 Yep. He's flaming. And that little deer that's standing next to him is lookin' miiiighty suspicious right now.
Sidney: This is like . . . the snowman equivalent of Johnny Depp. :-O
Jo-Jo: (now she's really confused and unhappy that we're dissing her snowman) What??
Sidney: Tell her, Dad.
Dad: (sitting on the couch, not paying attention) -.- O.o? (glances over at Christmas tree for a beat) . . . . . Yep. He's a queen. But he's not The Queen. u-u
And so, in conclusion . . . . I have the snowman version of Johnny Depp hanging on my Christmas tree. Oh, and how'd everybody like my Monty Python's Life of Brian reference? For some reason, I can picture Lyn singing that song a little too well. But maybe that's me. :D;
o