by Andrew Wood
Quickly chilled by and not comfortable in the murky water, Marner swam back to shore and waded onto the beach where he flopped down, irritated to find that his feet were once again covered in mud. He wiped them as best he could on the grass. Lemele was also coming ashore and he was alarmed to see that her underwear had been rendered transparent by the water and so quickly averted his eyes. Fortunately for him she had only come ashore to get a bar of soap from her bag, then return to the lake. She swam fifty metres further along the lake and proceeded to create a scum of white foam on the surface as she treated herself to a bath.
Marner lay back on the grass and closed his eyes, the sun burning red on the insides of his eyelids, heat seeping into his muscles and bones. He felt human again.
----
Whilst Lemele and Marner rested on the bank drying themselves and basking in the remainder of the summer evening, Loic slipped away to forage for food. When he returned, their supper turned out to be a number of small rabbits that he had caught. Up until then they had been using the provisions that he had brought with them from his farm; hard dried ham that was extremely salty but delicious, together with oatmeal cakes. Loic made the cakes each evening from dried oats and water, using a little honey to bind the paste together into patties that he fashioned by slapping them back and forth in his palms. These would be placed onto flat stones perched over the edge of the fire to bake and then eaten hot, with additional ones set aside to eat cold the next day. A little heat also helped to soften the dried ham, bringing the residual fat bubbling to the surface. This, together with fruit and vegetables foraged on the move or in the evenings had constituted their diet.
But on this evening Loic declared that there was no ham or oatmeal remaining and therefore he had been forced to spend nearly an hour catching the rabbits. As a seasoned city dweller, Marner was genuinely curious and not a little impressed that Loic was able to catch them without a weapon, but held his tongue. He knew that he would only receive scorn or monosyllabic answers if he asked for details of how it was achieved.
By the time that the rabbits had been skinned, gutted and cooked they were all famished and fell upon the food like savages, juggling strips of searing hot fatty flesh back and forth between scalded fingers. For the moment the rapidly dropping temperature, the rising wind and the insects were ignored.
Chapter Forty Two
For shelter from the coming rain, Loic advised them to improvise a cover with their groundsheets. Marner watched Loic lie on one half of the sheet and then pull the other half over the top. When Marner tried this, he made the mistake of setting up facing in the wrong direction and the gusting wind immediately flipped the sheet back off of him. He was obliged to get up and turn it all around, reforming this makeshift fold of waterproof sheeting, his blanket also wrapped around him for warmth against the cold. He reflected that it had been foolish to go swimming with the storm approaching. The relief from the stifling heat had been welcome, but going to sleep in his cold damp underclothes was not.
At some point close to dawn Marner was awoken by the realisation that he was incredibly cold and wet. But this was not residual damp from his clothes; it was raining and the hollow into which he had settled to sleep now held a puddle of water. He moved to stand under the relative shelter of a tree and pulled his wet blanket around him. As he listened to the raindrops clattering on the leaves above his head he pondered on the fact that, each time that he thought he had discovered all of the draw-backs of the countryside, something new and worse came along. Weary and chilled to his bones, he sank down on his haunches, leaned back against the tree and dozed off again.
Breakfast was a handful of left-over fruit. Loic was in a bad mood and pronounced that he was not inclined to try lighting a fire whilst it was still raining hard. He spat to indicate that the subject was closed and walked away to begin saddling and preparing the horses, cutting off any possibility of further discussion.
Almost as soon as they set off the rain eased to a fine mist, although the sky remained overcast with low grey clouds scudding across it. Marner was more intent on keeping the groundsheet wrapped around him in an effort to keep dry than in holding the reins. Fortunately there was to be no trotting today; Lemele explained that the ground was too slick for it, with a risk that the horses could slip and stumble on the wet mud and mossy stones.
By late morning Marner’s stomach was churning and rumbling with hunger, yet he knew that there would be nothing to eat when they halted for lunch. When he suggested that they should purchase food in one of the villages that they bypassed, this was quickly argued down by Loic. The group had continued to carefully avoid any contact with the local populace in the dwellings and towns, because they and the civilian population were potentially dangerous to each other. As well the general curiosity that any stranger would arouse in these remote villages, Loic knew full well that numerous open and covert collaborators lived amongst them. The travellers in turn would bring danger to anybody aiding them; the men would be publicly executed and the women and children deported.
As always, Marner could see the logic in what Loic stated but the man’s constant condescending tone, as if stating the obvious to a stupid child or idiot, never failed to irk him. Loic’s solution to the food problem was to forage on the move, at which he demonstrated himself to be adept. The problem for Marner was that, after hours of riding with only a few unripe apples for breakfast, he needed something more substantial than wild fruit, nuts and the bitter leaves that Loic declared to be edible.
At the end of the afternoon, thoroughly cold, wet and miserable, Marner proposed that they stop early. Loic spat before speaking, a sign that Marner had come to recognise and he knew that Loic was going to be especially sarcastic and argumentative. “I have to be back home in ten days for the birth of my baby. If you think that my wife was angry when we left, that will be nothing compared to how she will be if I don’t get back in time.”
Despite his foreboding about Loic’s demeanour, this was the first time that Marner had heard anything that could be taken as humour or irony from this taciturn man. He was just about to laugh, glad to relieve the hostility and tension, when Loic continued, “I have a maximum of two more days with you and then I turn back. With my horses. So you have two choices. Either we make the maximum progress each day and we eat late. Or we can spend one or two hours less per day in the saddle so that we can stop and find food in time for you to maintain your Parisian restaurant hours. I am just as happy to go with the latter option, since it means that I will have less distance to travel back. But you are paying and it is your choice,” he finished, voice heavy with the scorn that Marner had anticipated. Loic spat, turned Vesuvio around and continued on.
Marner looked at Lemele for help but her response was only to shake her head in exasperation which, he clearly interpreted, was aimed at him. Concerned by what Loic had said, he waved Lemele to hang back. “What did he mean by ‘two more days’? I thought that he was taking us all the way!”
Pursing her lips, she responded, “That was the original plan. The reality is that we have made slow progress.”
“Slow progress! We have been riding for twelve hours a day; does he suggest that we should ride in the dark?”
Lemele looked away, uncomfortable with what she had to say. “It is more a case of the lack of speed. You are not capable of keeping up a trot for any length of time and so we have not been covering as much distance as he first estimated. He told me yesterday that he was concerned about his wife and the baby and that he would have to leave us to go back.”
Marner alternated between anger and suspicion. “So when have you two been having all of these cosy chats? And when were you intending to include me in this change of plans?”
Lemele was embarrassed at having been forced to confess to this apparent disunity, but equally angry at having been put in this position. After considering different responses to his accusation she cast them all aside, shrugged at him and moved Polenzara on without say
ing a word.
----
They did indeed stop an hour earlier than usual that evening, having found a tiny stone chapel at a crossroads in the forest. At first Loic had been wary, pointing out that such buildings were usually located close to habitation and he urged them to move on. This time it was Lemele who argued with him, insisting that they were all cold and wet; the opportunity to sleep under shelter and the possibility to dry some of their sodden clothes would be welcome. Loic glared at her for a moment, perhaps becoming frustrated with the constant dissent amongst his charges. Then he shrugged, ordered them back into the trees out of sight of anyone who might pass on the road and set off alone to check the vicinity. He came clattering back along the road ten minutes later and confirmed that there was no habitation within a kilometre. “But why build this chapel here, in the middle of nowhere?” queried Lemele. The others were too tired and miserable to share her curiosity.
The lock in the heavy oak door was ancient and the fact that it was rusted from decades of cold, damp air gave Marner some difficulty. He feared that the long pointed blade of his old pocket knife would snap under the effort, it being more adapted to modern, finer lock mechanisms. Eventually the lock gave with a squeak and a shudder and then required a hefty barge with his shoulder to get the door to swing open.
The interior was not welcoming. The small single-room chapel was spartan, containing only back-less wooden benches and a simple wooden table for the altar at the far end under the single window. The floor was covered in a thick film of dust that puffed up around their ankles as they stepped inside. Marner took down one of the lanterns hanging on the walls and confirmed that it had some oil in, that they could light it. Loic countered that it would be a stupid idea, that the light would be seen by any passing traffic, to which Marner responded by pointing out that the only window was at the far end, on the forest side and thus not visible from the road. Loic spat and clumped out. Marner silently revelled in one small victory.
Lemele had buried their single box of matches at the bottom of her bag. The carton was slightly damp despite having been well wrapped; fortunately the matches proved to be robust and the lamp was easily lit. She then went outside to help Loic with the horses whilst Marner made a quick inspection of the chapel. He found nothing of interest, the building proved to have been stripped of anything useful or valuable. Only the wooden furniture remained and that was riddled with woodworm. There were not even any prayer cushions that might have made a comfortable bed, although during its centuries of use this chapel had probably never attracted the type of penitent who could afford or cared about such luxuries.
The horses tethered, Loic re-entered the chapel to announce that he was going in search of food.
“Could you please be quicker tonight?” urged Marner, suddenly despondent at the thought of having to wait perhaps an hour for Loic to return, then another hour for it to be ready to eat. “I am starving. Does it really take so long to catch a few rabbits?”
Loic’s response was not quite what Marner was expecting. He sat down on a bench and pointed towards the door, “Fine. You take a turn and show me how quickly you can rustle up a meal, meat included, with just your bare hands.” He folded his arms and turned to face the altar of the chapel, head slightly cocked, as if contemplating god or something infinitely more complex.
“Well,” spluttered Marner, wrong-footed, “Why don’t you just shoot them? Here, take my gun and use that,” he suggested, pulling his pistol from the holster to offer to Loic.
Loic suddenly leapt up and turned on Marner, his manner and face so hostile that Marner automatically levelled the gun at him, fearing that Loic was going to attack him. Loic showed no awareness nor fear of the weapon, advancing towards Marner until the barrel was only centimetres from his sunken wet chest. “You stupid, damned city fool,” he snarled. “You know nothing. That gun is too large a calibre to shoot small game. You’d disintegrate the thing; nothing left to eat. Besides, you have to take a rabbit whole, not shoot it. If the bullet pierces the guts it spoils the meat. And anyway, do you actually think it is a good idea to be shooting weapons off, with so many of you damned Boche and your collaborator vermin crawling over the countryside like fleas!” he finished with a roar. Foam spittle now at his lips, he side-stepped around Marner and stormed out of the chapel.
Marner turned to Lemele, shocked and stunned, also disappointed that he had lost yet another argument to that damned runt. He switched to humour to make light of it, “He must be upset; you can tell because he didn’t even spit!”
Lemele turned away without replying and busied herself with unpacking her wet clothes from her bag.
----
When Loic returned he was sodden and dirty, but had a surprise in the form of a chicken dangling from one hand and some small potatoes tucked in the crook of his other arm. Lemele was overjoyed to see Loic’s treasures, even throwing her arms around his surprised neck, causing the potatoes to tumble to the stone floor. Marner was tempted to add his congratulations on this haul, but Loic’s face was stony so Marner remained silent.
A groundsheet was strung up outside against the back wall of the chapel and a fire lit underneath using one of the chapel pews. Marner broke it up by placing it against the wall and using his boot to snap it into progressively smaller pieces. The protests of Loic and Lemele against this vandalism were countered by Marner’s observation that the wood was so rotten and worm-eaten that it was no longer safe to sit upon anyway. The ease with which it crumbled under his foot convinced them.
Loic rapidly and expertly plucked and dressed the bird and then fashioned a spit between two mounds of rough stones, using a soaked green sapling branch that would withstand the heat to hold the chicken. The potatoes were placed in the base of the fire, directly under the meat where the juices would fall on them. Whilst Lemele squatted under the sheet tending the fire and the meal, Loic showered naked in the now pouring rain and then changed into his slightly dryer spare clothes. Marner sat alone in the chapel whittling on a piece of kindling, surrounded by the clothes that Lemele had spread over the pews and altar. It was too cold and damp to dry them effectively; it would have been preferable to light a fire but they could not do so in here because there was no way of venting the smoke from the tiny space.
When the chicken was pronounced ready it was placed on the altar, this item perhaps now returned to its original role as an ordinary domestic table, and two of the pews that seemed the most solid were selected to sit upon. The chicken was roughly carved using Marner’s dagger. The taste of the flesh was heavenly after days of dark gamey rabbit; only the potatoes left a little to be desired since they were not fully cooked. The entire bird and vegetables were quickly and enthusiastically devoured. Marner silently reflected on the fact that after just a couple of days away from civilisation they had been reduced to near savages, entirely focused on the next meal, nothing more.
The atmosphere was still strained, Loic and Marner ignoring each other except to insist with faux politesse that each have the last potato or leg of chicken. As if to fill the tense silence, Lemele kept up a childish banter that needed no input or response from either of them, finally pronouncing, “I have to say that that was the most delicious and most welcome meal that I have had in my entire life.”
Marner made noises of agreement but Loic had nothing to say, just sat slumped over the table on the verge of sleep.
The initial enthusiasm at being out of the deluge that had now turned into a thunderstorm was quickly waning. The chapel was profoundly cold and damp. Loic had gone outside to sleep under his groundsheet, citing the need to be near the horses during the storm. Marner suspected that he would be sleeping up close to the remains of the fire and therefore actually warmer than those sheltering inside the chapel.
After trying to bed down on the stone floor, which seemed to be leaching the warmth out of his bones like some malevolent spirit sucking away his life force, Marner threw the damp clothes off the altar table and used th
at as a makeshift bed. Lemele came to the same conclusion shortly after. He offered her the table but she declined, instead pushing together the two pews that they had used to sit on for their meal. It required a bit of work for her to find a spot on the uneven ground that would render the two platforms of wood at the same level, but finally this was achieved and the lamp was turned off, allowing her to fall into a dreamless void.
Chapter Forty Three
Marner was having a bad dream. One of the horses was standing on his stomach, its hoof firmly and painfully pressed into the right side of his belly. It was pitch black and so he could not see which of the horses it was. He willed his mind to release him from his half wakeful, feverish state and found that the pain was real. A terrible malaise had immersed itself in his stomach, lancing barbs of agony through him, as well as a general ache that infused his whole right side. He thought for a moment to force himself to vomit, to expel whatever it was that was causing it, but he did not really think that this would help. He wondered if perhaps it was a cramp from the position that he had been lying in, or the prolonged effect of days of sleeping out on uneven ground.
After lying still for several minutes waiting for it to subside, he rolled from side to side, sitting up and even getting onto his hands and knees on the rickety altar table, trying to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Eventually he was forced to concede that this was no muscle spasm, something was wrong inside him. Thinking through possible causes, the obvious suspect was the chicken that they had eaten for supper. Or was it something more serious, appendicitis perhaps? This last thought flipped his mind over into panic. If it was something more than a simple reaction to badly cooked food, then what was he going to do? They were far from civilisation and professional medical care, even if he dared to risk going to find it, even if he could find some way of reaching it. The idea of rocking and jostling about on horseback seemed impossible in his current state.
