by Libby Sparks
“I’ll be here again tomorrow, and we can go have lunch on your grass or something. But I have to go now.”
He clenches his jaw again, but nods. It would be better than nothing, but the thought of waiting just one more day brings his stomach up into his throat.
He gets back to his spot, but the crowds have dispersed, so he takes his bicycle and goes home. His blood boils at the thought of Justine, so blunt and rude, belittling his acts by not laughing, and then calling him a jester. He despises the idea that he has to rely on her, of all people, to find out anything about Claire. Justine, this woman who looks as if she’s been living with rats, and is so prone to mockery, is the only key he might have to his beautiful Claire.
In his apartment he begins to relax. The adrenaline in his veins dies down, and he manages to eat a little bit. He’ll have to deal with her again tomorrow, but if he knows what to expect maybe it won’t be so bad.
After long hours of lying awake, staring at the almost pitch black that fills his small home, he falls into a restless, dreamless sleep.
The next day drags on and it feels like an eternity before lunch arrives, but she appears in the crowds before Remy can really start worrying about her being there. When the Notre Dame signals lunch she follows him silently around the back of the Louvre to his bicycle.
They walk in silence to the Champ de Mars. Remy is wildly frustrated, wanting her to tell him everything she knows at once, but he doesn’t want to push her for it, and there’s nothing much he can really do anyway.
He glances at her every now and then, but it seems as if she’s lost in a different world, her green eyes focused on some spot in the distance. He tries a couple of times to see what she’s looking at, but he finds nothing but clouded skies.
When they reach the grass, they sit down. Remy hesitates, wondering if he should unpack his lunch. He looks to see if she has food on her, but she has nothing with her except the clothes she wears. He decides he doesn’t want to be rude and eat in front of her.
She looks at him.
“You can eat, I won’t be offended,” she says as if reading his mind.
Still, he hesitates before pulling a chunk of bread from his bag. He starts to take a bite but then stops and pulls off nearly half and offers it to her.
She looks at the bread he extends to her, blinking in surprise and confusion. He doesn’t withdraw it, and after what feels like several minutes passing of him sitting there with the bread in the air, she finally takes it.
She holds it in her hands and stares at it. He takes a bite of his half and chews as he studies her face. Remy has no idea what to make of her reaction. Slowly she brings it up to her mouth and nibbles off a bit.
“Thank you,” she whispers without looking up at him.
He nods, but she doesn’t look up at him. They sit in silence for another moment, and then she speaks up. Her voice sounds slightly choked at first, but she quickly clears her throat.
“I know the girl you’re so serious about. I’ve seen her around town quite a few times.”
Remy trains his eyes on her. He has so many questions but he has no way to ask them.
“I get around town a lot because of work. Sort of a family business, you could say if you look at it the right way. I only started seeing her with you now and then a couple of weeks ago. Seems a short time to get so serious, but that’s of course none of my business.”
Not that it would have made any difference, Remy thinks, she makes everything her business when it suits her, it seems.
“I heard that one of the brothers had taken a liking to her, and everything about it seemed wrong. Of course the brothers take wives now and then, but the way I heard it, she sounded like a play toy. It was clever of her to leave as soon as she did.”
Justine falls silent again. Remy feels as if he could burst from the frustration. He’s become so anxious to hear any news at all that her slow way to telling him the news is pressing him into a state of near hysteria. He needs to leave, to get out of here, but he feels so trapped! And now he’s forced to rely on a woman who seems as if she’s completely crazy.
One minute she’s rude and careless, and the next she’s choking back emotions and drawing out silences so long he nearly believes she’s losing her speech too. He wants to pull out his hair, then run around and scream.
But he doesn’t. Remy sits next to her, forcing himself to stay calm as he waits for her to say something more.
When the bell rings again, he groans in despair. Lunch is over and he must return to work. No doubt, Justine has a job somewhere too, and he’s found out next to nothing. The little bit of information she gave him was really just a bit of a deviation from what he really knows already.
He gathers his things together onto his bicycle and then clicks his fingers to get her attention. When she looks up he waves goodbye to her and turns towards the avenue, pushing his bicycle over the last patch of grass.
Suddenly she’s in front of him and he staggers back, nearly knocking her with the front wheel. He looks at her, pulling his shoulders back in defiance to hide the fact that he would rather crouch in uncertainty, and when her eyes lock onto his it’s with such intensity that he almost does.
“I know what you’re about, even if it looks like I’m just messing around. You don’t fool me, you know, even if you’re forced to keep to yourself. I watch you when you act out all those terrible things that everyone else laughs at, and I know that you’re not laughing at them yourself.”
Remy holds up his hands in defense. Her green eyes are piercing and uncomfortable and she’s so serious it’s almost scary. She knows him. She knows too much of him. After weeks of being completely isolated and left to his own company alone, her evaluation of him feels like a terrible intrusion.
“Don’t look so weary. I just know a sad story when I see one, and you, my friend, are the epitome of a sad story. I know this girl means something to you; I can see it in your eyes when I mention her. It’s probably killing you that she left, isn’t it?”
After a moment of hesitation, he nods.
“And suppose you knew something, even the smallest bit of information on which way she went, I don’t suppose you would be carrying on your daily life, would you?”
He shakes his head, a little less inclined to push her away now that she’s less aggressive about the whole thing.
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I think setting after a girl you hardly know into a world you look a little incapable of dealing with is very noble, but I don’t know if you’re going to make it that far. Your speech problem really isn’t helping your cause because you have no one to speak for you.”
You don’t say, Remy thinks. Still, he needs to know what else she knows about Claire. And then it dawns on him. If Justine came with him, she would be able to help him find her, and she would be able to speak for him. Yes, maybe she is ridiculous, a little crazy too, and definitely an annoying companion to have in any circumstance. But right now anything that will bring him even one step closer to Claire will do.
His thoughts run wild as he tries to think of a way to ask her to come with him. He doesn’t know how to bring the idea across. Remy gestures with his hand, beckoning towards him, and points to the horizon, trying to get as much of a pleading look on his face as possible.
For a second she stares at him with a blank expression. And then she laughs. Not a normal laugh, or a laugh at a joke, or even an incredulous laugh. She cackles at him with mockery dripping fresh from the tones that pierce the air.
“You want me to come with you!” she laughs.
“I’m sorry, Pierrot, but that is definitely not happening. I’m not leaving my life here behind to run after you on some wild goose chase after a girl. I have connections here. And protection.”
He clasps his hands together, shaking them back and forth as he desperately tries to convey his agony, but she holds herself blind to it and her face becomes serious again.
“I didn’t come here to offer
to be your tongue, jester. I came here to give you a little bit of information to make you less somber. You’re too depressed all the time. Really, if your act wasn’t so heart-breaking it would be pathetic.”
Remy’s hands fall to his side as his expression grows blank. The reaction that jumps in his chest whenever she brings him down really yanks him towards reality in a way he wouldn’t ever let himself see. It’s infuriating and painful all at the same time when she plays with him that way.
Maybe she thinks his inability to stand up for himself gives her the right to have her fun with him, but he’s not about to let anyone use him. Just to make it clear to her that he doesn’t need her, he lifts his chin up a little higher, and marches off without looking back.
The afternoon passes by in a whir of jingling coins and delighted gasps mixed with the unpleasant replay of Justine’s mocking laugh. By the time he quits to go home, Remy is drained and aware of the fact that he needs Justine very much. He walks the couple of blocks to the Pont Louis Philippe where he crosses over to reach his home. When he approaches the other side of the bridge a figure appears from the shadows, but before he has a chance to let his instincts of fear take over, he realizes it’s her. A little glimmer of hope lights up inside of him, but he’s too weary to acknowledge it.
“I’ve been waiting for you. You really take a very long time to come home after work.”
He shrugs, uncomfortable with her so close to his home.
As if reading his mind she adds, “I’m sorry I’m ambushing you here when all you want to do is go home. I’ve seen you cross here close to sunset often, but I don’t know exactly where you live, if that’s any consolation at all.”
He relaxes a little but weariness is still just under his skin and he knows that she won’t be able to keep bitterness or malice from the conversation for long, even if she wanted to.
“Look, before you get all defensive on me, I want you to know that I’ve changed my mind, and if you’re really serious about this whole thing where you want to find her, I’ll come with you.”
His eyes stretch wide in surprise and a silent gasp escapes his mouth. He’s not sure if he heard her correctly. She’s so neutral about it now, where only a few hours ago she was against it, not only refusing him but mocking him.
He can’t imagine why she changed her mind and he doesn’t know how to ask, even though ‘why’ is burning through his body. He ends up shrugging his shoulders.
“Are you suddenly indifferent about the whole thing, or are you attempting to ask me why?”
He thinks for a second, and then holds up two fingers.
“Two? The second one? I have my reasons but you’re too pathetic. I want to knock myself out just seeing you wilt. How else am I supposed to get you off my conscience?”
Remy is pretty sure that if he was still able to speak, he would be dumbfounded. But there is no time to mull anything over, or work himself up about insults. She tugs his sleeve urgently.
“Come on then, Pierrot, if we are going to do this we need to get to your place and make arrangements right away. I’m coming with you and I have conditions that we need to discuss right away. Well, I need to. You can listen.”
She guffaws about her joke. He still doesn’t find it amusing.
In the apartment, Remy pulls a candle from the small cabinet next to his bed and lights it on the table in the corner. He dusts the chair for Justine and grabs some food for them both before he props himself up against the wall on the floor close to her. She has the same look of panic and confusion and relief on her face as she did that afternoon when he’d offered her bread. He’s puzzled by her sudden personality switches. Justine is by far the most unpredictable creature he’s ever had to deal with, and it’s making him feel guarded and weary.
After she’s eaten some, bits of her arrogance return as she looks around the room and has the audacity to comment on his belongings and living conditions. He’s just about to get wildly annoyed with her again, thinking of putting her out the house if she’s going to insist on being insufferable, when she falls quiet and that serious look creeps across her face. Her eyes turn a shade darker, noticeable even in the candle light.
“Listen, if we’re going to do this, we have to leave as soon as possible. We finish eating, pack our things and leave the minute we’re done.”
What’s the sudden rush? Remy wonders. Surely it would be better if they sleep first. Travelling at night is dangerous, with all sorts of low lives hanging around town, especially closer to the outskirts.
He shakes his head and points to the bed but she stands up and crosses her chest.
“No. There is no time for sleep. It’s now or never. If you want me to help you we leave now, otherwise you’re on your own.”
He looks down at his hands, weighing out the options. Then he nods at her, giving in. If this is the only way he’s going to find Claire, then he’s going to have to take it.
“Alright. We’re going to need some money for food. I have a little, do you have a bit to spare?”
Remy nods. He has a box under his bed full of coins, but he won’t show her that.
“We’ll cross to the Rive Gauche–have you ever been on the left side of Paris?– and travel north along the Seine towards Rouen.”
Remy shakes his head. Claire wouldn’t have gone north. And didn’t he hear that during the war the Prussians invaded Rouen? That is the last place Claire would be.
“Hey, jester, we’re going to Rouen. I said that if you wanted me to come with you we follow my rules. We’re going north. I’m fairly sure we’ll find some sort of lead there.”
How could she know this? Where was this information coming from? There seems to be a lot Justine isn’t sharing with him and he doesn’t like the idea of being left in the dark. But what choice does he have?
He wrestles with his thoughts for a while, trying to alleviate his gut by reasoning that Justine is his only way out, and finally he wins, sighing with exaggeration, and then nodding his head.
“Good, now pack your things. But pack light; we’re going on foot until we’re quite a while out of Paris. We can’t risk anyone seeing us on a train or anything.”
That seems a bit excessive. Why can’t anyone see them? Justine has strange demands that are putting him on edge. He’s starting to feel really uncomfortable about everything she’s clearly hiding from him.
She gets up and walks to the door.
“I’m coming back soon. I’ve stashed my things close by.”
When she disappears out the door he’s left in the semi-dark of his apartment, wondering how on earth he got himself into this predicament. He jumps up and grabs his bag, yanking the box of coins from underneath his cot and emptying the contents into it before she comes back. He doesn’t trust her all that much, and he doesn’t want her seeing how much money he’s saved.
He looks around the room. From the table he takes the little black bag of ash that he carries everywhere with him–his reminder of everything he owes. Remy fills his bag with the remainder of bread. The broth he won’t be able to bring because he can’t cover the pot. He eats as much of it as he can before he discards the contents, and stuffs the pot into his bag. It’s starting to get heavy. After adding candles and some clothing, he’s sure he has everything. All he has left to do is sit down on the cot and wait.
A short while later, Justine returns panting with exertion. She has a makeshift bag from old rags slung over her shoulder and her eyes are wild, but she speaks calmly.
“Let’s go. We don’t have much time.”
Remy can’t help but feel tense as they set out into the night. The nagging feeling that they’re running away from something is getting stronger. They start keeping to the shadows, and by the time they reach the Pont de la Tournelle that reaches to the left bank of the Seine, he’s sure that Justine has her own agenda.
He’s tempted to stop and turn back, but she urges him on with such conviction that it’s hard to contradict her. They pass thro
ugh Paris, keeping to dark alleys and staying away from the glow of street lamps when they’re forced to face an avenue.
It’s slow travelling, and his heart beats in his throat whenever she pulls him into a dark corner, waiting there in absolute silence for what feels like an eternity before she decides it’s safe to move on.
Justine is incredible to watch as she melts from one shadow to the next, pulling him with her in times when he wouldn’t have thought it necessary to hide. Footsteps would only follow a while after they hide. After a while his suspicion gives way to fatigue, and the urge to turn back dies down. He becomes amused with Justine’s ability to navigate back alleys, and he’s curious as to why she knows so much of Paris.
The moon crawls over the sky as they crawl across the city, and when dawn colors the horizon, they are out in the open with the rural homes on the outskirts of Paris squatting far behind them. Remy is tired and Justine has slowed down her pace considerably, but she is walking out in the open now, not taking any care to conceal them.
The river flows to his right, he can hear the water travel through the early morning air, but he can’t see it.
“Come, we must find a place to rest soon, or we’ll never make it. We are safe now.”
That’s it. Remy drops his bag, and crosses his arms. He won’t take another step until he knows what’s going on. It’s become very clear that Justine isn’t just coming along with him to help him out. She’s going somewhere very specific for her own reasons.
He wants to know where she’s going, why she’s going, and what she wants from him. It’s quite obvious she needs him for something, or she would have left without him. He’s not planning on following her through the country, blindly being led by her superior attitude and her annoying demands.
She looks at the bag on the floor, and then takes in his stance, raising her eyebrows.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.
He clenches his jaw, and looks at her, trying to make his expression as hard as he can.
