A Way Home

Chapter 11 – Accusations Made

"So open your eyes/ look at the world/ gaze up at the sky/ it's been transformed/ And the stars cry out/ for a release/ from all the hurt/ that their eyes see/ The moon cries/ for all the lost souls/ and clouds all choose/ to loose control/ Angel of music/ where have you gone/ that I can't find you there?/ Angel of music/ hear me calling you/ will you gather all my tears,/ and years of pain/ and hide them all away?/ Angel of music/ be my guide/ and leave me a place/ where I can hide."

– Angel, Fuzzy-Pamplemousse

-

We snuck around the back alleys of Paris, waiting and watching. I had already adjusted to wearing the trousers, which my mother seemed to enjoy calling "pants". I had no idea why she called them that, but she did.

We hid behind a pile of refuse. Rebecca plugged her nose and nearly threw up, but the rest of us didn't mind it. We were used to the smell, especially Dominique and I. we had been living in among that kind of thing for so long that it didn't bother us.

I rolled my eyes when Rebecca plugged her nose and nearly gagged. Spoiled.

I stuck my head forward, and sighed in relief. There was no one there. Good.

I went first, and beckoned to my family to come after me. I knew that, if someone wanted to hide in Paris, they would hide here, in among the refuse piles, and old warehouses. It was where Dominique and I had hidden when we had been orphans, and so we both knew the area well, although I knew it better than she.

Skirting another pile of refuse, I hid behind some empty, old crates, and beckoned to my family.

One by one, they followed me. When we were all hiding behind the crates, Rebecca came near me and asked, her voice high and nasally from plugging her nose, "How can you stand the smell?"

I shrugged. "I'm used to it, I guess," I whispered.

"I am so sorry that you had to go through that kind of stuff," she said.

I put a finger to my lips in a motion for her to be silent. Then I beckoned to Dominique. I began to move my fingers in strange motions that my parents obviously couldn't follow. I had created this form of communication in the hopes that it would make Dominique more silent when heading for the library. That way, no one would notice us. It hadn't worked very well, but her range of vocabulary, and her memory, in the language turned out to be better than mine, and so I was sure she would understand.

After several long moments, she replied back, in the same manner, and I was confused by how fast her hands moved. I stopped her, put my lips to her ear, and whispered, "Just stick your head in the hole to see if there's anyone there. My head won't fit."

I could tell she was biting her tongue to hold back a witty remark, and I smiled at her for encouragement.

"What just went on there?" Rebecca asked in a whisper.

"I was just telling her to stick her head in the hole that's up there" – I pointed to a small opening that was not far above our heads from where we crouched – "and see if there's anyone in the warehouse. If it looks like there's been someone in there, then we go in. If not, then we proceed to the next one." I looked at both of them for confirmation that they had understood what I was trying to do.

They both nodded, and then Dominique stood up and stuck her head into the hole. After a few minutes, she pulled her head out.

With a flurry of hand gestures, I deduced that, although it was very dark, she could tell that the warehouse hadn't looked any different from any of the other ones that we had visited throughout the day.

I glanced at the sky. Shielding my eyes, I could tell that it was late in the day. Probably around three o'clock in the afternoon. We would have to go home soon, and continue it tomorrow. I tightened my belt – which I had changed from the pretty one to a more plain one so as to not be seen as easily – and I explained to Erik and Rebecca what our situation was.

"I think we should just head home now, and continue this tomorrow," Erik said.

"I don't," Rebecca replied, turning to him, and releasing her fingers from pinching her nose, despite the smell. "Just because you think that this guy is done with you doesn't mean that he actually is. What if he kills someone else?"

"You worry too much?" Erik said, sounding too concerned. "I know that you're scared of losing me. I'm scared of losing you and the girls again as well" – it sounded as though he was having difficulty expressing his feelings – "but we can't continue this today. Dominique looks like she's about ready to collapse; we're all dirty and tired. Rebecca, please, let's just go home and continue this another day."

With a sigh, she nodded. Then she held up a finger as Erik made to leave. "Tomorrow," she said, waiting for his confirmation that we would continue this tomorrow.

"Rebecca," Erik said, taking her hands in his, "wait a week. Then, if you still want to go looking for him, we will go."

"S'il vous plait, can we go now?" Dominique interrupted. "My feet hurt, and I'm thirsty."

I smiled. Dominique had never been one to complain, so when she started, you knew that it was time to head home.

"Oui, chéri," Erik replied, and looked at Rebecca for confirmation and agreement.

"Yes," she agreed, and we all snuck away from the warehouse.

Once we were away from the warehouses, and in a more hospitable area of Paris, we were able to walk standing up and not crouching. Many people we passed tried to peer underneath Erik's hood, but Rebecca would just give them a hard stare, and they would sauter off, pretending as though they weren't frightened. Despite my mother's small size, she could be very intimidating.

When we arrived home, I gratefully accepted Maria offer of a bath, as I was grimy, and tired from wearing trousers the whole time we were gone. I didn't care what Rebecca said; dresses were much more comfortable than trousers.

-

Several hours after returning home, we sat down to dinner. I was glad for the reprieve, no matter what I had said earlier. I did want to help find the person who was framing my husband, but Erik was right; we did need a rest. I was tired, even if I had said I wasn't.

Just as I was taking a bite of my meat, the doorbell rang. I stood up to get it, while at the same time, the rest of the family, including Henri, stood. We were all thinking the same thing, I was sure. I just hoped that we were all wrong.

"Erik, you stay here," I said, my eyes pleading with him to listen.

He shook his head. "No," he said. "There's no way that anyone can accuse me of anything because I haven't been alone for a moment since being released. There's no way that I could be accused of doing something that I didn't do this time." He crossed his arms over his chest in a way that told me he wasn't going to stay.

I sighed and dropped my hands to my sides. Feeling frightened, and really, really tired, I went to the door, Erik, Dominique, Charity, and Henri following close behind.

When we reached the door, I peered through the peephole. My breath stopped in my lungs, and I thought I was going to drop dead for a moment. Erik gently took me by the arm and pulled me into a hug. I couldn't stand it. What if they took him away from me again? What if he was placed in a cell again? Or worse, hung? I wouldn't be able to bear it if something happened to Erik. And the girls only just got their father back. How would they take it?

Erik released me when the doorbell rang again. He gently gave me to my Dominique and Charity, who held my hands, knowing without being told, who was on the other side of the door.

Erik opened the door, and received the two policemen with an icy curtesy. "Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?" Erik asked.

"We just received word from some of our men that a body was found dead. A witness said they saw you fleeing the scene. You'll have to come with us."

"You touch one hair on his head, and I will kick your ass so hard, you won't be able to sit down for a month!" I hissed in a menacing tone, coming up to stand in front of Erik.

The policemen took one look at me, and burst out laughed.

Erik put a hand on my shoulder when I balled my hands into a fist, and pulled back my leg for a good kick.

"Cherie, non," he said, and I lowered my hands.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said in an icy tone. "But there is no possible way that I could have been fleeing the scene. I have not been alone since I was released. I have always been with someone, and today, I was with my whole family, so there is no possible way that I could have done something like that."

Charity and Dominique came up and nodded, agreeing with what Erik said. They stood on either side of me and took my hands again. Behind us, Erik towered above our heads. His white mask was stark in contrast to his black hair.

"Like we are going to trust the word of three women," scoffed one of them, and he pulled out his handcuffs.

A/N: There. There's the next chapter. Review, please!