And after an absence of only 4 months… lazy author
Anyway, I'm back for now and have a new chapter for your perusal and enjoyment.
Enjoy.
Erik kept his head down and finished the last few notes of the piece he was playing. He made sure that his face was covered, obscured by both a makeshift mask of black cloth and a hat pulled down over his head.
At his side, Raoul stood dutifully, making his blue eyes as wide as possible and holding the battered hat out in front of him. He tried to be as sympathetic in appearance as he could, and his efforts as well as Erik's songs were rewarded with coins tossed into the cap by passing adults.
Erik nodded to him and put the violin back in the box while making their way off the street. Raoul fished the money out of the hat and gave it to Erik.
"Here," he said quietly. "It looks like we got a bit more than yesterday."
The other looked at the coins and nodded in affirmation.
"Yes, we did. We chose a better place this time I think." He smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, causing Raoul to laugh. "Shall we get something to eat and get home?"
"Yes!" Raoul responded enthusiastically.
His companion smiled and counted out coins, withdrawing a list from his pocket.
"Here's the list for the next few days," he said. "Think you can get it all?"
"'Course I can," Raoul replied proudly. "I do all the time, don't I?"
Erik nodded.
"Yes you do. You're a good boy. Now let's get going – I'll be watching you from the shadows and making sure you stay safe, but keep your wits about you anyway, all right? I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Don't worry."
"You couldn't stop me from worrying if you tried," Erik said with a light laugh. "Now let's hurry!"
They walked off down the street, Erik keeping his head down and clutching Raoul's hand tightly, with the violin case in the other hand. Raoul held on to the list and the money and they went as subtly as possible, trying to avoid any attention. To the rest of the world they were just another couple homeless orphans wandering the streets. Nevertheless, they did their best to stay out of danger.
After all, to one another they were family.
Raoul stopped by each of the necessary vendors in succession and gave Erik the packages to carry when his small arms grew too full. Once each item had been obtained, they walked back to the dim little attic room that they managed to rent for a few days from a middle-aged widow who ran a boarding house.
They entered quietly, avoiding the more stationary residents, and locked themselves in their garret. Erik lit the small lamp and extinguished the match as he regarded Raoul in the dim light. They'd been running for months now and the boy was already, by his own dim reckoning, five now.
Those few months had changed him. His aristocratic, pale skin was now in a near-permanent state of dirtiness and smudging. Oh Erik tried to keep him clean, as clean as possible, but it was more effort than it was worth most of the time to make him sparkling. Furthermore, the long days outside riding on the back of the horse and the time spent playing outdoors wearing only sparse clothing when possible had made him tan. His golden hair, also much dirtier and matted, had grown out to a length Phillipe would never have allowed. He'd lost weight as well, losing much of the plump, babyish look he'd had when they first met.
However, his changes were far from being merely superficial. He'd become more self-sufficient. As they traveled from town to town, Erik's one possession of worth – his violin – earned their living. He performed on the street for money or picked pockets if times were especially bad. Raoul, however, was necessary since Erik wanted as little contact with the world as possible. He had to perform, there was no other way, but there was also no sense in creating unnecessary risk wandering about.
So Raoul served as his liaison to the world at large. Erik guided him through the tasks the first few times, but need forced Raoul to quickly learn how to count money, make purchases and behave furtively.
He'd also picked up a few other skills from Erik. The older boy began to prepare their meal and watched as Raoul went into the corner and practiced what Erik had taught him about hiding objects in the folds of clothing. He played with a scarf and a spoon, seeing how well he could hide them and how easily he could pull them out again.
"You're doing well," Erik commented nonchalantly.
Raoul beamed.
"Thanks! And you're going to teach me how to do the voice thing?"
"Yes. You'll get a ventriloquism lesson after dinner – I promised, didn't I?" Erik said with a smile. "Dinner's almost ready; you'd best wash up."
The boy went to the basin in the corner and splashed his hands around in the water.
"Soap." Erik said with just the slightest note of reprimand.
Raoul sighed and repeated the process with a hard, small lump of soap. He washed off the film of lather and dried his hands, coming over just as Erik was setting down the bowls.
"Erik…" Raoul frowned. "You forgot to take it off again. I don't like it. I don't like when I can't see you."
Erik looked up.
"I did, didn't I? I'm sorry; you're quite right. And now that you mention it, it is uncomfortable." He reached behind his head and unfastened the mask, setting it aside on the floor. "I just get so used to wearing it during the day that it slips my mind on occasion."
The younger boy pouted.
"I wish you didn't have to…"
"I know, Raoul. I know," Erik sighed as he spooned soup into the boy's bowl. Because of their living quarters, he couldn't have a real fire – just a fire-bowl of sorts with coals – and the soup was only modestly warm. The boy took it and they ate without complaint in the dim light of the room.
After finishing dinner and wiping down the dishes, Raoul scooted onto the mattress and waited for Erik to join him. The older boy came over as soon as everything was packed up and put in its proper place. He focused his attention on Raoul and they started practiced throwing voices onto walls and making it come out of a lumpy monkey doll that Erik had rather shabbily sewn for Raoul.
Raoul tried for saying a few words over and over without moving his mouth and clapped when he finally succeeded. Erik smiled and after about an hour noticed the boy starting to get tired. He tousled his hair and told him that was enough and that it was time to get to bed, to which Raoul sleepily nodded agreement.
They undressed and put on their standard white sleeping shirts. Together they pulled the thin covers over themselves and shifted around on the mattress, trying to get comfortable. Raoul curled up and clutched the monkey doll affectionately. It was a far cry from the expensive (often imported) toys Phillipe gave him every Christmas but he adored it and kept it with him, his tight squeezing contributing further to the doll's dilapidated state.
The pair kissed one another good night, as they did every night, and fell asleep in the dark little loft.
The uniformed man shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the richly dressed man before him.
"Sir, I am sorry but nothing has turned up."
"How!" He thundered at the man. "How difficult could it possibly be to find one small boy who can't run far and a disfigured circus freak?"
"Sir, we lost them and there are many orphans wandering the streets of many towns. We have no reports of where they went or what direction they might have headed in and they could have gone in any number of directions – to Spain, German, Italy, over the channel even…"
"I want him FOUND!"
The gendarme sighed.
"We only have so much clout. And it's been a while. I'm sorry sir. They were already so far gone when you even contacted us and really, at this point…" He shifted. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"He's not dead," Phillipe insisted. "He cannot be dead."
"Sir, I admire your fortitude and your hope. However, there is also a level of pragmatism… letting go…"
"He's not dead!" Phillipe muttered and faced him angrily. "Get out. If you can't solve the problem, I will find somebody who will."
The policeman turned and walked out of the door.
"As you wish, sir."
Erik woke Raoul up by gently shaking him.
"Come on… time to get up…"
The boy looked at him sleepily then yawned and crawled out of bed.
"What's going on?" He murmured quietly, splashing water over his face and wiping it with a cloth to dry it.
Erik tied his mask on and began to pack up their possessions.
"We're leaving today," he replied.
"Why? I thought we were staying a little longer…"
"So did I." He sighed. "But something just doesn't feel write. I know, it's hard. Just… I've learned to trust my intuition.
And I think it's time to go."
Raoul nodded wordlessly. After all, if Erik thought that it was time to leave, then it probably was. His advice had never led them wrong before and Raoul wasn't about to protest. They finished getting packed and dressed, left the money for their bill with the woman who was busy making breakfast and set out on the road. They took the horse out of the stable after giving the animal a feeding and were about to set off when Erik's fears very nearly came true.
As Erik was cinching the packs on to the horse a figure stepped out of the shadows – a filthy man who leered at him and looked all too familiar.
"You!" Erik gasped, recognizing the gypsy who'd held both him and Raoul captive so many months ago.
"You thought I wouldn't come looking, little corpse?" He sneered. "You were wrong. And that little brat's brother is offering quite a bit for him at this point.
So where is he? And why don't you just hand him over?"
Erik swallowed and started to panic just slightly.
"I've no idea what you're talking about," he replied. "I ran away. I have no idea what 'brat' you're referring to."
The older man withdrew a knife and Erik began to back away, trying not to startle the horse.
"You're not fooling anybody, little corpse. Come now. Where is he?"
"Behind you."
The man turned around and focused on the boy who'd snuck up behind him. There was a flash of silver and then of crimson, but Erik hardly noticed. Instead, he grabbed a horseshoe from the side of the stable and slammed it over the man's head.
He slumped down, clutching at his arm which was bleeding profusely as he slid into unconsciousness. Raoul stood there, holding a bloody kitchen knife and looking at Erik with a wide-eyed expression. Without thinking, Erik grabbed him, placed him on the horse, mounted and rode off before anyone could discover what had happened.
"Raoul… how… what did you…"
"I don't know!" Raoul gasped, equally dumbfounded. "You were showing me how to hide stuff in my clothes and so I hid some of the spoons and forks and knives and then he threatened you and he had a knife so I just took one and put it in his arm and he dropped his and then you hit his head…"
Erik nodded and saw a picture begin to take shape in his mind.
"Well, it's too late now. Let's just hope that he was unimportant enough that not much of a fuss will be made. Nevertheless, we shouldn't stick around here. We need to get away."
Raoul held on tightly.
"Erik… did I do something wrong?"
Erik sighed.
"He attacked us. So… I suppose not. But Raoul? Don't do things like that carelessly. OK? Promise me you'll be more responsible…"
The thought gradually dawned on him that Raoul might have killed the man, even without meaning to. Perhaps he would have deserved it. But, Erik realized, Raoul was only five even given the benefit of the doubt. Though his exact age was unknown, he was much too young to be shouldering the responsibility for what he did or might have done back there. True, they were managing to survive on the road.
But it wasn't a good life. Not at all. Guilt crept over Erik and he drove the horse faster.
"Are you mad at me, Erik?"
"I'm mad at myself… Mad that I can't give you more security. Mad that you're not living the life you should be."
"But I like my life! Don't you want me any more?"
Erik smiled bitterly.
"I know you do… And I do want you. I care about you. Don't think I don't. It's because I care about you that I want something better for you."
Raoul smiled optimistically and hugged Erik as they rode.
"It'll be better, just you wait. As long as we're together, it can only get better."
Erik nodded and hoped his optimism could be well founded. He wasn't sure at all, himself. The future held the answer for both of them and they rode towards it, leaving behind the body of a man, part of Raoul's innocence and, as the hours wore on, France altogether.
And there we go. Next chapter – another familiar face from Susan Kay's novel. :)
Review if you liked – and even if you didn't.