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| Silent Yearning |
Chapter 5: Beginning
Very slowly the yellow slice of the sun got ready to wake up and began her tours at the horizon.
Paris was awake. The country was still firmly in the hands of the battles of the Revolution. Vive la Revolution resounded through the streets of the capital and yet its population was on their feet since the first morning hours and went along with everyday life. Life continued.
Bernard orbited around Oscar.
�Stop, Bernard! I am already feeling awkward as it is.� Oscar glared at him angrily. Nervously she flattened her dress. No, she could honestly not say that she felt comfortable. Without the shielding male clothing she felt naked and completely at the mercy of her enemies.
Rosalie spared no efforts to work on her dress through the entire night. When Oscar wanted to look for her in the morning, she had been falling asleep over the dress. The dress was out of dark red fabric and worked up plainly. A dress for a commoner woman. It was comfortable to wear. No countless layers of skirt and confining corsages that encumbered her.
Her worn-out shoes were flat and the shabby soles clanged unheard over the pavement of the streets. Her hair was simply tied up at the back of her neck.
�You are dressed inconspicuously, but something is still wrong, Oscar.� Bernard knit his brows contemplatively. �You have to move differently.�
�I am not moving any differently from usually.�
�Mhm? That�s the point. You are standing too straight. Looking at your posture one can tell your true class. Moreover you walk�jaggedly. Forget that you wore a uniform.�
�I can�t simply forget that I wore a uniform. I wore it for twenty years.�
Resignedly, she pushed her shoulders forward.
�NO�You don�t have to exaggerate! You are not an old woman. Stop! I have the feeling that you are not taking me seriously!�
Oscar smiled. �I do take you seriously. I am sorry, Bernard. I�m just tense.� She became serious again. Unlearning long lasting habits was not easy. Class consciousness, surroundings and education were deep-seated in everyone and were showed in one�s manner and enunciation.
The evening when her friendship with Count von Fersen shattered, he told her that even if she tried, she could not deny her upbringing. He was right. Yet his words hurt her deeply back then. Today she changed her mind about that. Maybe because Andr� loved her unconditionally, particularly because she was the way she was.
~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~
Oscar nodded hardly noticeable in the direction of the side alleys. Both came closer to the Place du Parivis. �Look, Bernard! It�s deceivingly calm in Paris. The commoners follow their usual work, but under the apparent calmness it�s simmering.�
Bernard nodded. �We�re close to the Conciergerie. More and more revolutionary opponents were imprisoned there. The people are still aggressive and the famine, which is imminent everywhere makes it worse. Terrible things will happen.�
They walked side by side silently, lost in their own thoughts.
�We are almost there,� Bernard said.
Notre Dame loomed in front of them.
The hideous gargoyles looked down on them. The wind played with the first
foliage. The red golden leaves arose into the air easily and danced over the cobblestone.
�Are you ready?�
She looked at him. Fear to have erred was in her eyes; to never find her beloved again and to know his remains are deeply buried in the soil. �If there is even just the slightest possibility that Andr� is still alive�I would do anything...�
She hushed and took a little time to think. �I just hope I wont be recognized.�
She looked up to the high window arch.
Colourful glass panels hid the view to the interior of the church.
�Trust me, no one will recognize you. Promise me to be careful and not to act overhastily!�
Oscar nodded, turned around and walked towards the portal.
�Oh, and Oscar��
�Yes?�
�You are walking like a soldier again.�
~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~
Oscar was puzzled to see that Bernard did not enter the church, but determinedly walked around it and walked towards one of the houses.
Cracks were formed in the grey exterior facade. The wind caused the closed shutters to clatter in their mount. Dully, sadly and unimposingly it loomed in front of them. Bernard opened the front door and entered. Inside they were greeted by darkness and silence.
Bernard opened door by door. They walked across empty houses and desolate rooms.
Sparse daylight percolated through the cracks of the shutters. The further they walked, the more noise could be heard.
Steps that hurried over the creaky deal boards, voices that gave instructions, doors that were knocked open and slammed.
�Where are we, Bernard?� Oscar asked while she was following him.
Bernard smiled noiselessly.
�This is Robespierre�s wonderfactory. All of the pamphlets, forbidden books and newspapers, which criticize the grievances in this country, are made here. This place would be a just what our opponents are waiting for.�
Rhythmic stomping droned through the door.
�Those are the printing machines,� Bernard explained because of Oscar�s quizzical look. He had paused briefly before he opened the last door and turned to her. �Robespierre must never find out that you were here or God help us. You indeed fought on the side of the people, but he did not forget your long services for her Majesty, the Queen. Be careful!� he pleaded vividly. Oscar nodded determinedly. The last door opened.
The form of the accommodation hardly differed from the others. But what was missing concerning furniture there, was standing on every available place here. Stacks of paper and bocks piled up on tables and shelves. Men and women in unobtrusive clothes ran around with stacks of paper. In a neighbouring room the printing machine stamped. It resounded dully when the heavy board with the iron letters was pressed down.
�Bernard.� An old woman thrust aside her helpers while walking towards the newcomers. Her feet barely lifted from under the dirtgrey hem of her skirt. Fatty strands of hair peered under the bonnet and framed a wrinkled face with rough features. Bernard bowed slightly.
�Madame Merman. As promised I�m bringing you my cousin Fran�oise.�
�I know, I know. She is supposed to help me.� The old woman eyeballed Oscar sceptically. �She does not look like she can knuckle down and work hard. Is she capable of reading?� Her bushy eyebrows knitted pensively. Irritated Oscar looked to Bernard who tried to avoid her gaze.
�She possesses excellent knowledge of grammar, Madame Merman.� He moved towards the door slowly but steadily. �I will leave you now. Salut Madame. Fran�oise, I will see you tonight!� Then he was gone.
Madame Merman still eyeballed her with narrow eyes. �Mhm, I still don�t know what to do with you.� She grasped Oscar�s hands jerkily, turned them around and ran over the surface with her coarse fingers. �They are battered, but at weird spots?� Her brawny hands ran over hard skin that attested to many years of fencing.
Oscar unsnapped her hands and stood straight so that her full size was shown. She was two heads taller than Madame Merman. �I can assure you that I can absolutely knuckle down , but I�m afraid there is a misunderstanding. I�m ready to work for Monsieur de Robespierre, but this does not seem to��
�Ha!� the old woman interrupted her.
�Ha?�
Madame Merman grabbed perplexed Oscar�s arm and pulled her in an adjoining room. �I figured that I know you.�
Oscar turned pale, her body tensed.
Madame Merman triumphantly ran her tongue over the two black snags in her mouth that in default of a better expression were supposed to go by the name teeth. �You are this hussy that walks about in men�s clothing. You commanded the soldiers during the attack of the Bastille.�
Oscar�s body was tense like a tight bowstring, ready to defend herself anytime. Was everything supposed to be over already?
�It�s an honour, it�s an honour.� Madame Merman shook her hand so that she tipped forward. �A woman that places orders with men. You are a fighter for the feminist movement!�
A fighter for what? Madame Merman�s fervent speech sprayed on her conversational partner in moist enunciation. �Madame Merman, you have to keep this to yourself. Please, I��
�I understand, I understand,� the old woman interrupted her. �My lips are sealed. The commander of the France Garde, it�s an honour! But here, I have the command, darling hahah. You simply do what I tell you to and we will get along very well!� While she was speaking more and more papers landed on Oscar�s arms.
�Here, these are several articles written by our revolutionaries. Fiery representatives for our matter and great writers. Those young men have fire under their butts, but unfortunately they lack of knowledge of orthography. Just iron out the coarsest mistakes darling, before we distribute them among the population. Here you go, this should be the last sheet of paper to proofread!� Oscar received a bold pat on her extended back.
Darling? Did she say darling? Oscar had received the best military education. She commanded companies and ordered soldiers. She fought for her ideals and she would die for them. For her love to Andr� she disobeyed her king and her father, but darling and a well directed pat on her buttock, she could not do anything about. Against suchlike violation she was not educated and thus she resigned herself to the inevitable.
�Sit over there, darling! No, over there! Your secret is safe with me. Well, now I have to take care of other things. I hope we will get some time for a longer conversation.� With a conspiratorial wink she sallied forth.
Oh, please not, Oscar thought tormentedly. For a longer conversation her articulation was just too wet.
~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~
The sun had ended its rounds. The last September day of the year 1789 drew to a close. In the countryside the tussles were still raging and in the streets of Paris inflammatory texts wandered from hand to hand. The change was inexorable.
A loud knocking on the door brought Bernard back from his thoughts. He hastened to the door to open it. Unexpectedly Alain stood in front of that one.
�Alain, I�m happy to see you. Come in!� Both men sat down after Alain had greeted Rosalie.
�Have you found out anything?� Bernard impatiently leaned forward. Rosalie swayed expectantly on her chair.
A slight hint would be so valuable, but Alain shook his head. �Sorry, Bernard. I don�t know anything so far, but several comrades ask around for me. Actually I just came here because I wanted to see Oscar. Her resurrection made me curious. Furthermore I wanted to know what your further plans are.�
Bernard leaned back in his chair. �Oscar should be here soon. She works for Robespierre now.� He could not deny himself a smile. �Differently however, than she might have imagined.�
�What do you mean?� Alain asked.
He did not get an answer because the door opened with a sudden bang. The wooden boards vibrated after they noisily ground to a halt at the wall. Oscar stood in the doorway. The red golden sun set behind her and its rays mixed with the red of her dress. Her eyes glowed. She stood straight. Inch after inch the elongated, thin female body showed the officer. Bernard understood how this woman could survive in a men�s world.
�Understand, Oscar! It would have been too dangerous to bring you any closer to Robespierre,� Bernard tried to excuse himself. �And Madame Merman enjoys his confidence. She is a fiery revolutionary.�
�Excuse me please, I have to go wash the revolution out of my face! She has a very juicy articulation. Bon soir Alain.�
Oscar walked across the room and nodded to greet Rosalie and Alain. Rosalie held her head low, smiling, while Alain smirked highly visible.
�These are the 96% of the French population. That is the Bourgeoisie, Oscar.�
�No, that is disgusting.� Rosalie giggled restrainedly.
Alain leaned back reflectively and pondered about her appearance. He could not remember a single day that he saw his commander in women�s clothing. Petrifiedly he stared into space.
�I know what you are thinking, Alain. I can see it in your eyes!� Alain woke up from his thoughts and saw that Oscar had already returned and sat down next to Rosalie and Bernard. �I don�t want to hear a word about me wearing dresses now. Dressed as a woman or not, I�d still be your commander�� Oscar explained smilingly, without being serious.
�No no, Commander�� Alain countered smirkly and looked into her eyes. �I would never doubt your authority.� He kept on talking quickly so that she would not get the idea to threat him with a sword. �I understand Andr� why he loves you. You look enchanting. You should have worn dresses earlier.�
�I am glad to see you again, Alain,� Oscar changed the subject.
�Likewise. I am happy that you are still alive. You have my loyalty, Oscar.�
�I know that and I thank you,� she responded softly.
�But now I have to go�I have to meet a couple of acquaintances�� Alain announced, he raised from his chair and winked to Bernard. �And ask around��
Oscar could only suspect what this was about; already that secret men-talk was over.
Alain already went out the door. Rosalie and Bernard put on an innocent air. As long as there were no positive news, they did not need to bother Oscar unnecessarily.
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