Behavior Report 28

Dearest Love,

We’ve seen every unimaginable thing in the Cauchemar Forest from enormous reptilian monsters to living stone creatures to Kraut giants, but the most surprising of all was meeting another friendly human. Dozens of people cautiously left the cave that was in the stone village. Men and women, ranging in ages from twenty to well above seventy, hobbled out like windup toys using the last of their coil. They held their hands above their eyes to shield the sunlight as if they hadn’t seen the sun for a long time. Shackles ringed their ankles with a heavy chain in between. Every step was labored and sounded like bells jingling on a sleigh.

“My god,” Earl whispered. “Were they trapped in there?”

“Put your gun away.”

“I’m not worried they are going to attack us. I doubt they have the strength to walk all the way to us.”

“No. I don’t want to appear as invaders,” I said. “How good is your French?”

“About as good as my German.”

I waved at the people and said, “Hello. Do any of you speak English? Uh, parlay voo English?”

A young lady with hair combed and bundled into a dirty newsboy cap waved back. She was barely twenty years old with a broad chin accented by thin lips naturally formed into indifference. Passion burned in her blue eyes, of what I didn’t understand, but I could tell that she could calm the seas were she not hungry and exhausted. She wore a faded purple scarf wrapped loosely about her delicate neck that disappeared beneath a brown tweed jacket and matching slacks.

“Bonjour,” she said. Her tone was level, matter of fact, but her presence suggested a little bit of fear mixed with exhilaration. I could tell that she wanted to talk, but she also wanted to keep her guard up.    

“Bonjour,” Earl replied. “Do you speak English?”

The girl shook her head and said, “Speak. English. Not so good.”

“Uh,” Earl stumbled to find the right words. “Noose, uh, some, uh—”

The girl’s face burst into a smile and lunged toward us. I could have sworn that, at the same moment, the sun grew brighter. She ran to Earl first, kissing him on each cheek and then embraced him. She did the same with me. Our embrace was brief, but long enough to feel that she was very thin underneath her thick tweed clothes.

“Frank,” I said, pointing to myself, and then pointed to my friend. “Earl.”

“Rosalie,” She said, placing her open hand against her chest.

“A pleasure to meet you.” I smiled.

She looked past us and around the quarry. “Wee unto armee?”

“I think she asked where our army is,” Earl said.

“What should we say?” I said. “Should we tell them—”

“Coming. Soon,” Earl said.

“Why did you say that?” I said.

Rosalie crinkled the spot just above the bridge of her nose to think of the next words to say. Several seconds passed and she looked almost as if in pain before the word came out. “Why?”

I looked to Earl as if to say, “You gave her the answer now you deal with it.”

“Scouts. We’re scouts,” Earl said. “We’re ahead to see what’s in front of our movement, you know, seeking out danger and … things.”

“Scouts?” Rosalie said. Her eyebrows raised in that universal sign of confusion.

“Uh … Reconnaissance!” Earl said, happily.

By then most of the others had joined our gathering and began taking turns hugging us and kissing our cheeks. They said all sorts of things I didn’t understand, but I did understand one thing, they all smiled. After the fourth or fifth person, I remembered that I had a pack full of rations! We passed out all we had, which wasn’t much, but the people were happy to receive any morsel. Several of them stumbled to the river to drink and bathe to build up their strength.

My Love, I experienced something that I won’t forget. These people were starving and exhausted, but they shared the food. Those who received a can of mystery meat took a bite and then passed the can to the next person. I wondered if our friends would do the same.

Within the crowd stood an older, plumper, gentleman with bushy white hair and a beard growing in every direction. He kept his distance from us, yet locked eyes whenever we looked his way. I returned his stare and said, “Speak English?”

He stepped forward, painfully, and said, “No.” His chest was puffed up as if it was a statement against needing our help.  

“Oncle,” Rosalie added. “Mon oncle.” She wrapped one arm around the old man’s shoulders and squeezed. “Me protaysheer.”

“Uncle?” I said pointing toward the old man. “Protaysheer? I don’t understand.”

Earl tapped his head and repeatedly said, “Protaysheer.” He looked up and said, “Protector? I think that’s protector. She’s saying the old man is her uncle and her protector.”

“He protects you?” I said to Rosalie.

Then the old man turned to Rosalie and released a flurry of words I could not possibly write down. She attempted to reply with an optimistic tone but was struck down. All I gathered from their interaction were the words “Armee” and “Reconnaissance,” spoken by Rosalie.   

“Everything okay?” I said. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

Rosalie shook her head and padded her uncle’s shoulder. “No. He is angry.”

“We understand that.”

“Il ponse … he think … breezer nos shanes … uh …” Her face crunched up like a tin can as she thought of the translation. When she couldn’t think of the words, she mimed breaking an imaginary stick and then pointed to the chains between their ankles.

“You want us to break the chains,” Earl said. “We can do that.”

“How?” I said.

“Your sword cut through stone before. What’s to say it can’t cut through steel?”

“Lay down,” I said to Rosalie while pointing to the ground. “I’ll cut the chain. But you should lay down.”

My words struggled to move her, so Earl and I helped her down. She spread her legs apart and I swung the sword dead center on the chain. I anticipated sparks or a reverberating blow back, but the sword cut right through, leaving molten red edges on the links I sliced.  

Soon, everyone took turns laying down so I could cut their chains. They then went to Earl who stood in the river like a preacher waiting to baptize his flock, but instead of washing away one’s sins, he used the power of the water to pull apart the shackle cuffs that clung to each ankle. Before long we had a pile of broken shackles and a group of happy French people. We received more kisses and hugs and then most left us to go into the stone village.

The sun was still quite high in the sky but leaning closer to evening than mid-day. Light angled into the cave, and I noticed several unmarked wooden crates of all sizes stacked on top of one another just inside. “What are those?”

Earl followed my gaze and said, “Looks like crates. What do you think is in those?”

“Silver. Gold. Something valuable,” I laughed. “Let’s check it out.”

Both sides of the cave were covered with things. To the right was a mess of loose items all piled into a clutter and covered by several dusty tarps. To our left were stacks of wooden crates. We turned to the tarps first and yanked them off to view the bounty.

Sunlight glinted on a finely polished breast plate of armor. I found two matching gauntlets and immediately put them on. Each joint was a silver triangle that allowed me to bend and move my fingers easily. I may have swiped my hands through the air a few times like a knight fighting off a dragon. The rest of the armor, from the boots on up to a helmet, was laid out for anyone willing to wear it. I moved on to look for other things and in a matter of minutes, I found Earl dressed head to foot in armor.

A smile stretched across his face as he traded his green helmet for the polished steel. “I always wanted to wear a suit of armor,” he said. “One of my favorite books as a child had a knight, and I always wanted to be like him.” He moved around stiffly and gave off a “Whew” sound after a few steps.  “It’s so heavy. I can’t imagine running around in this stuff.”

I laughed and waved him off to search for more things. Paintings of all shapes and sizes and themes leaned against the cave wall. In one, a woman was being fed grapes and berries by flying cherubs. Another detailed a macabre scene with crimson skies and bones strewn about a flaming landscape.

Stacked next to the paintings were dozens of leatherbound books. I opened several of them and couldn’t read a single word. Beyond those were plates and all sorts of strange things one would never consider finding inside a cave.

The confusion of literature and art and medieval weaponry was topped off with a pirate’s booty of travel chests and hat boxes built in a style maybe fifty to one-hundred years ago. One chest was made up of slats of weathered wood with riveted golden bands holding it all together. A brine aroma hovered about the chest that reminded me of our time crossing the Atlantic. Curiosity begged me to turn the lavish brass skeleton key that was already inserted in the keyhole. My fingers tingled in excitement as I raised the cover. I felt like a pirate, praying for gold coins, gems, pearls, golden necklaces, and spiced rum, but inside was an even greater treasure I couldn’t have possibly imagined.

“Earl,” I said. “I think we have solved one of our greatest challenges!”

“What?”

Instead of gold and precious jewels, I found folded laundry – women’s laundry. There was a stack of lace underwear, girdles, dresses, blouses, and pants. Why any of it was stored in a pirate-like chest was beyond my understanding, but the joy of solving one of our most difficult promises was more than enough for me to forgive the oddity of the situation.

“I’ve found underwear!” I said, while lifting a piece of unmentionables.

Earl laughed heartedly. “Christmas for Quint!”

“Yes!”

“Keep looking! Who knows what else we may find.”

I shoved the underwear in my pack and continued to dig through the chest of clothing to see if there were any socks. Yes, it was selfish of me, but a soldier can never have too many. Near the bottom, I came across a bright purple spring jacket with golden buttons folded perfectly into a rectangle. I unfolded the jacket and a thin red silk scarf floated slowly to the ground. ‘Troha!’ I thought excitedly. I picked up the scarf. The length. The color. The style. Everything about it made me think of his favorite radio show. ‘It’s perfect!’ And if that wasn’t enough, a Kraut luger laid on the bottom of the trunk.

“Oh my god,” I said. “This trunk is a treasure chest. I’ve found two promises!”

My Love, it’s hard to find the right words to describe the relief I felt. All hope of finding things to fulfill the promises seemed lost with our bouts against monsters and giants, but that all changed after a few minutes of searching through lost treasures. I couldn’t stop smiling.

I left the rest of the clothes in a pile in the chest and began to look around for other things on my list of promises. Earl took off all the armor and tossed one of the gauntlets to me.

“A gauntlet would be quite the story piece for Bob to share with his neighborhood!” Earl said. “How many soldiers go to war and fight a knight?”

My pack was growing full between the gauntlet, scarf, and unmentionables, but I didn’t mind the weight. If anything, the weight from all the promises fulfilled felt lighter than burden of figuring out what to do. Maybe an hour passed as we dug through everything, but it felt like minutes. The excitement from the possibilities took my mind off everything and each minute felt like Heaven. No concerns. No fear.

Rosalie and her uncle grabbed my attention with another argument. He yelled and waved his hands and pointed at us. Every word felt like a mortar lobbed at our direction. The French language may be considered the language of love, but Rosalie’s uncle did not share any love from the cave entrance.

“Is everything okay?” I said, walking over to them.

Rosalie’s face flushed red. “Pardon.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Two a la mame,” Rosalie said. “You … same …”

I thought about what she meant and turned to Earl who continued to dig through a pile. ‘The same?’ Earl picked up something and then dropped it to dig further. ‘The same. We’re the same as the Krauts. He’s angry that we are going through their things.’ My Love, the excitement I felt faded like fog touched by sunlight. “Earl, stop.”

He stood up and stared back.

“Just stop. Rosalie and her uncle are not happy that we are going through their things.” I said. “We look like conquerors.”

Earl’s shoulders slumped. He understood.

I knelt and removed the few things from my pack to show Rosalie and her uncle what we took. I kept the unmentionables hidden. “Promises.” I placed my hand on my chest. “These are promises to my friends who died.”

“Lay more,” Rosalie said.

“More?”

She pretended to get shot and fell to her knees like a Hollywood actor.

“Yes! Dead. My friends. Died.” I picked up the gauntlet. “This is to bring home to their families.”

Rosalie’s uncle shook his head and left. When he wasn’t looking, Rosalie dismissed him with a wave and said to me, “Amees more. Pondra. Donjon.” She mimicked pushing the gauntlet back to me. “Guardees shay shoose pore vus amees.”

“I think she’s telling you to keep it,” Earl said. “I think the uncle doesn’t like us taking their things, but she doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And sorry, for your uncle.”

“Ahshevay?” Rosalie flattened her hands and waved them horizontally as if to say, ‘All done?’

“Wee. Ahshevay,” I said.

“Good. We … help … others … now?” Rosalie smiled and then pointed.

I followed her direction and found the peak of the mountain. “Mountain?”

“Wee. Fameel … preesoneer … there.”

Earl walked up behind me. “Fameel is family. I know that. Preesoneer sounds a lot like prisoner. Her family is held prisoners in the mountain.”

“That might explain the uncle. We saved him and the people here and then started going through their stuff. He wants us to go save the rest of the family.”

Earl snapped his finger. “That’s why they asked about the rest of our army!”

“But there’s no way we can help them,” I said. “Is there?”

“What’s different about their families and the ones from Le Perir? Heck, what about the loved ones left behind by our friends? Why should we help one and not the other?” He paused and then said, “It’s our duty, Frank. We came here to free people.”