from him as possible,” she said, grabbing my cold, sweaty hand as we ran for the door. We wound our way through Versailles, trying to find any nook or cranny that might be safe for us. Finally, Jacqueline found a small closet filled with cleaning supplies…presumably for servants who didn’t want to walk all the way to their chambers to tidy up. I realized that I had never really thought about how hard a servant’s life must be, the irony of the realization not lost on me as we jammed ourselves into the smelly crevice and closed the door.
At first we sat in complete silence, the sound of our racing hearts and breath the only thing keeping us company. The sweat from our bodies reeked of hot fear, but we held each other close anyway. We could hear people running up and down the hallways, panicked whispers passing us by. Suddenly there was a scream, a thunk, and the sound of a body falling to the floor.
“You want to take bread from our mouths so that you can buy a new ring, huh?” a grating, womanly voice growled. We heard sobbing coming from the vicinity of the ground.
“Answer me!” the furious woman demanded. Jacqueline and I held our breath, and my lungs screamed for air. Still, we dared not make a sound.
“I…I have nothing to do with your bread…please!” I recognized the voice of one of the women in Jeannette’s circle. One whom I knew particularly hated the poor. She didn’t seem to now.
“You have everything to do with it. Your privilege is at the cost of our sacrifice no more!” the woman shouted. Jeannette’s friend screamed, another heavy thunk sounded, and then there was silence. We heard the woman sorting through her victim’s dress pockets, the jingling of a few coins, a chuckle, and footsteps heading in the opposite direction. After a few minutes, Jacqueline and I let out our breath in a chorus of muted sobs. Hot tears mingled with misty sweat as we waited and waited, hunger and thirst fighting for attention against the brick wall of our terror. We sat in the darkness all day and into the night, waiting. When it seemed like help would never come…
“Jacqueline! J!” We both sobbed in relief at the sound of Bastien’s panicked voice.
“Bastien!” Jacqueline screamed. We heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.
“Bastien! We’re in here!” Jacqueline choked. I felt rather than heard him place his hand on the closet door.
“Don’t come out,” he said, breathless. “There’s a body I must remove.” We cried some more. Unable to bear it, I covered my ears to block out the sound of him dragging the body away from the door. After what seemed like two lifetimes, I could hear his muffled voice through my hands.
“Is J with you?”
“Yes,” Jacqueline said.
“I’m going to open the door, alright?”
“Alright!” we cried out, still holding each other close. As the crack in the door widened, our eyes squinted as they adjusted to the blazing candle sconces on the walls. The tall, broad shouldered shadow of Bastien stood over us, and before I could react, Jacqueline burst out of the closet and rushed into his arms. He embraced her fervently, his head pressed firmly against the top of her head.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes darting up to meet mine from above her. I rose clumsily, my legs weak from being cramped for so long, my heart sick at all that I had heard. Glancing down at the rug, I could see the stain of blood that led down the hall to wherever Bastien had left the poor woman. Gingerly, I began to circle my ankles, my feet tingling painfully back to life after going to sleep hours before. Finally, Jacqueline stepped back from her brother’s embrace, and he faced me, his hands gently on either shoulder.
“And you, J? Are you alright?” he asked, his dark eyes searching mine. I wanted to tell him that no, I was not alright, that violence had taken away the innocence I had never bothered to cherish because I hadn’t
At first we sat in complete silence, the sound of our racing hearts and breath the only thing keeping us company. The sweat from our bodies reeked of hot fear, but we held each other close anyway. We could hear people running up and down the hallways, panicked whispers passing us by. Suddenly there was a scream, a thunk, and the sound of a body falling to the floor.
“You want to take bread from our mouths so that you can buy a new ring, huh?” a grating, womanly voice growled. We heard sobbing coming from the vicinity of the ground.
“Answer me!” the furious woman demanded. Jacqueline and I held our breath, and my lungs screamed for air. Still, we dared not make a sound.
“I…I have nothing to do with your bread…please!” I recognized the voice of one of the women in Jeannette’s circle. One whom I knew particularly hated the poor. She didn’t seem to now.
“You have everything to do with it. Your privilege is at the cost of our sacrifice no more!” the woman shouted. Jeannette’s friend screamed, another heavy thunk sounded, and then there was silence. We heard the woman sorting through her victim’s dress pockets, the jingling of a few coins, a chuckle, and footsteps heading in the opposite direction. After a few minutes, Jacqueline and I let out our breath in a chorus of muted sobs. Hot tears mingled with misty sweat as we waited and waited, hunger and thirst fighting for attention against the brick wall of our terror. We sat in the darkness all day and into the night, waiting. When it seemed like help would never come…
“Jacqueline! J!” We both sobbed in relief at the sound of Bastien’s panicked voice.
“Bastien!” Jacqueline screamed. We heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.
“Bastien! We’re in here!” Jacqueline choked. I felt rather than heard him place his hand on the closet door.
“Don’t come out,” he said, breathless. “There’s a body I must remove.” We cried some more. Unable to bear it, I covered my ears to block out the sound of him dragging the body away from the door. After what seemed like two lifetimes, I could hear his muffled voice through my hands.
“Is J with you?”
“Yes,” Jacqueline said.
“I’m going to open the door, alright?”
“Alright!” we cried out, still holding each other close. As the crack in the door widened, our eyes squinted as they adjusted to the blazing candle sconces on the walls. The tall, broad shouldered shadow of Bastien stood over us, and before I could react, Jacqueline burst out of the closet and rushed into his arms. He embraced her fervently, his head pressed firmly against the top of her head.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes darting up to meet mine from above her. I rose clumsily, my legs weak from being cramped for so long, my heart sick at all that I had heard. Glancing down at the rug, I could see the stain of blood that led down the hall to wherever Bastien had left the poor woman. Gingerly, I began to circle my ankles, my feet tingling painfully back to life after going to sleep hours before. Finally, Jacqueline stepped back from her brother’s embrace, and he faced me, his hands gently on either shoulder.
“And you, J? Are you alright?” he asked, his dark eyes searching mine. I wanted to tell him that no, I was not alright, that violence had taken away the innocence I had never bothered to cherish because I hadn’t
Similar Books
