| �2001 by Rebecca J. Burke & Hashbrown Casserole for the Matchbox Twenty Soul, Inc. |
| No More Monte Carlo |
| "Madame, the ship leaves in an hour. Everything is packed, and we will depart on the quarter," the butler announced. He stared at the letter the mistress held loosely in her hand, wondering about its contents. "Thank you, Sven. I will be ready. You may go," Candace Beth LeMonte replied, looking away so the servant would not see her pain as he left. Her pain wasn't new. The letter contained the latest news of her fiance's, Thomas Rosae, current condition. She had known her fiance was ill with the cholera for a week at the most. She would do anything for her love, and would love no other. The epidemic was raging in Monte Carlo, where her lover was working on business, and now was ill. It was quite hard for her to obtain tickets for her passage on the sea, since not even a rowboat would go near the doomed place. Fortunately for her, a small schooner traveling to Greece would leave her there. She had to see Tom, and the sea certainly would not stop the young woman. As the carriage was about to leave, she picked up The London Times to read on the way to the port, and a startling headline screamed at her. "THOUSANDS DIE IN RAGING EPIDEMIC, CITY QUARANTINED!" "Oh, no!" she thought as the carriage raced her away from the protection of her lavish mansion, "Maybe the captain can sneak me into the harbor unnoticed. I'll have to stay at a friend's house, or I will be arrested, if there are any police left." Suddenly, the Paris port came into view. It was bustling with activity on one end, quiet on the other, and there stood the most handsome man ever, beside a ragged boat. She almost fell out of the carriage staring at him, luckily the footman caught her. "Comment vous appelez-vous, madame...?" the stranger replied. "Candace. Candace Beth LeMonte. And who may I ask you are?" she replied, blushing uncontrollably. "I am Douglas Conn. And you are my passenger on this dangerous passage to the forbidden. Well, I must say you are quite a gem, and..." "Douglas Conn," Candace tried to say without drooling at his arms as he loaded her luggage into the boat that the porter had brought from the carriage, "Monte Carlo has been quarantined. I expect you to get me through the barricade promptly, and safely, or your further services will be terminated." "Oui, madame, but such a fair lady to break the law. What next, Paris to be flooded?" Douglas smirked, looking at her shining red hair, "The will must come from that carrot you carry atop your face, and under your cap. Or maybe from that tiny waist you wear a most extravagant frock upon." "Please, no insults. I'm in no state to be toyed with. My love is quite ill now, so shall we get going?" Candace remarked stepping into the schooner, careful not to let his charms sway her from her duty as upcoming nurse. "Sorry, do you forgive under those green eyes?" "Do you ever stick to schedules behind those brown eyes? Do you know how to treat me like a lady under that dirty brown hair, or your sun burned skin?" "Oh, my dear Candace, I will try!" Douglas laughed as he hoisted up the anchor, and sailed out into the Seine river, "I will try for you". "Please do." Her snootiness said, as her mind generated thoughts that made her blush. She certainly would have to stay away from this codfish for a week. Later that night, under a full moon, Candace sat on the railing looking out into the deep darkness of the English Channel. So deep it was like her heart, dark and mysterious at times, bright and warm at others. She was confused, but it wasn't clear about what. Candace thought to herself, "It's like those times when I was little, and I got into trouble. When I was asked why I did it, I did not have a reason, I just did it." Alas, this was one of those times. She knew she was confused, she just didn't know what about. "Be careful that you don't fall off the side", smirked a voice from behind her. "Oh!" Candace cried out as Douglas scared her, "You be careful not to scare me like that again, you big oaf"! "Oooh, touchy, touchy. I am quite sorry. It is getting late, and a cold wind is blowing in from the north. May I suggest you retire to your quarters for the night?" Douglas said, with half meaningfulness. "How did you know it was blowing from the north"? "Well, A) I could have looked at my instruments, or B) your hair was blowing the way that the compass was pointing," he remarked, softly touching her auburn hair, with a tenderness in his eyes. "Well, I will go now. Goodnight, captain", Candace replied sheepishly, as she flocked down the steps to the hold, skirts trailing behind her. How could she stand to hear him, when she had others to think about? It was nighttime. The time of the day that is reserved for quiet and peaceful activities. Her family had taught her this when Candace was only knee high to a grasshopper. They would all sit around their new 19th century fireplace, a must have for anyone who had money, and read, play games, talk, or think. Her two older brothers, Charles and Christopher, would always engage in an ongoing game of chess, while her younger sister, Christina, would listen to the stories her nanny read to her. Father and Mother, Mr. Byron Charles LeMonte and Mrs. Cera Anne Abbott LeMonte, would talk over finances. During this nightly ritual, Candace would dream and think of her past and future, never of her present self. No matter what age she was at the time, Candace never liked herself. She liked the way she was, and the way she would be. No one knew what she was thinking about. They just thought she was daydreaming, and in a way, she was. Candace was sitting on the tiny bed in her stateroom brushing her waist-length mane in her dressing gown that was hardly opaque. She was thinking of her family, her life, her lover, and of her impending self at the moment. Her family now lived in Lyon, too far away for her to visit daily. Her life had stopped due to the epidemic, and her lover, Tom, was ill from it. Then there was herself. Candace paused the brushing in mid-air, and looked across the equally tiny room into the silver mirror on the back of the door. She sighed, and decided she was happy with her appearance, but not with her taste in beaus. Sure, Thomas was nice, loving, and rich as well, but he was...dull! Then there was Douglas. So much he held inside from her. She didn't even know where he was from or why he was taking her to Monte Carlo. Who in their right mind would travel right into the heart of an epidemic? At least he was brave, or so she thought. A bright sun greeted Candace as she pranced up the small schooner's steps, in her loveliest crimson gown, only to frown at the sight that lay in front of her. Douglas was there sitting on the side of the boat, peeling potatoes, and letting the peels fall onto the deck. The only big problem with that was it was an enormous pile of peels! She asked him with an air of disgust, "You heathen! What are you doing? Can't you get rid of those stenchful peels, or at least throw them over the side?" "HA!" he laughed, letting his leathery laugh lines show, "Can't the princess stand any taste of filth?" "You disgust me," Candace replied, so nastily that Douglas immediately lost his appealing cool. "Listen here you wench," he breathed, as he got up and grabbed the long satin sleeve of Candace's gown, "I don't have to take this from you. I am doing you a great service of sailing you to Monte Carlo so you can tend to your precious fiancee, and all you have done is annoy me with your arrogance. Either stop it, or you'll tell it to Davy Jones," Douglas finally said, then he let go of her sleeve, pushed her across the deck, and went back to peeling potatoes, watching her every move. Candace just stared back in utter horror. If he can play the part, he could be dangerous. She had better watch what she said from now on. He really looked as if he could hurt her badly. So she tried a different approach to the morning conversation, "Mr. Conn, sir," she said in a barely audible tone, "Could you tell me some things about you?" "This is more like it. I will be happy to oblige. Sit there on the railing, and I will throw these peelings into the water," Douglas replied, with an eerie grin on his face, "Where should I start?" Douglas talked until the sun was way past it's high-point. No matter what he told Candace, she was totally perplexed, and listened in total silence. The silvery water background added a cadence to his testimony. First he started with the basics. Douglas Lee Conn was born in London, England, but at the age of five his poor family moved to Paris, hopefully to beg off the streets. One time, when his parents were begging for the seven children, they were prosecuted for loitering, and were sent to jail. They both died from freezing temperatures, because it was in the middle of the winter. Since Douglas was the eldest, he had to take care of six siblings, then four, then himself. He always said that Paris was cruel to him, killing his whole family. Yet he knew there was some reason God spared him, so he devoted his whole life to helping others that were sick, and who had loved ones that were sick. That is why he came to the aid of Mademoiselle Candace Beth LeMonte. He knew what it would feel like to lose a loved one, so he would help her try to save hers. "I cannot believe it. Well, I can believe it, it is so sad, and so intriguing. My life was never that exciting!" Candace exclaimed with a bright gleam in her eye. "Well, you know, I...Wait! What do you see over there?" Douglas questioned with enthusiasm. "Is it, land?" "I don't know, let me find my telescope," Douglas replied, as he raced over to his instrument table and picked up his telescope. He then focused it and said, "My Lord, it is! It is Monte Carlo. Our only problem is, I can see the barricade." "What should we do?" Candace questioned. Then a gigantic wave crashed up against the little schooner at full force. Candace was slammed up against the deck walls, her dress torn, while Douglas was barely able to hold onto the wheel of the ship. Then everything returned to normal, "What happened?" "I do not know. But, are you alright?" "Yes, but I'm just wet and sore." "Fine then, you will need to go change. I don't need for you to get sick, too. I will stay here and think of a way to get through the barricade," Douglas said, as he placed himself upon the ship's rail, as if everything were alright, as if getting hit by a tidal wave was nothing. Who was this man? Candace climbed down the stairs, water dripping everywhere. She was a mess, and her dress looked even awful. She then walked into her stateroom, slipped off the wet frock, and sat down on the bed to try to dry her hair. She had to think. It was utmostly crucial. Afterall, what could a girl do in the times of trouble? Candace figured Douglas was going to try something wild to get into Monte Carlo, so she had to dress in something that could get dirty and not get ruined. She thought to herself, "Where can I find some old clothes? I didn't pack any for an adventure like this so where..." She got an idea. The girl carefully walked out into the narrow hall way, with only a towel wrapped around her. Cautiously Candace peeped around every door to find the right one. She was going to use some of Douglas's clothes. The last door on the left held what she was looking for. The room was so tiny, that it must have been a closet at one time. A double bunk was on one wall, taking up most the space. On the top bunk there were bed clothes neatly placed on the mattress. On the bottom, a pile of charts and books lay there, contradicting the neatness of its brother bunk. Under both of them, a small steamer trunk sat there, and looked as if it had seen its share of the world. And in the corner, a table, no longer than a man's arm, sat there with a picture upon it. The picture was of a young woman who was elegantly dressed. Even though the portrait was in black and white, Candace could almost imagine what the woman must have been like. The lady had a long ball gown on, and pearls that looked big compared to the size of Douglas's room. Her hair was gently swept up into a bun, and she had a smile, very faint, that graced her face. Well, Candace didn't have time to stare at other people's photos, so she opened the trunk, and found clothes to wear. When she returned to her room, she put the clothes on, and hung her wet dress on the door. She then looked into the mirror on the back. Actually, Candace looked very appealing in men's clothing, but she had to get back on deck to see what would be in store for her future journey. "What were you thinking?" Douglas shrieked, as he saw her parade around in her new apparel, "Did you go through my things?" "No, I just looked in the trunk. That's all," Candace replied, timidly. "Well, be sure to not do it again. Alright?" "Yes. Now what? We are here, what's your plan?" she asked, peering into the telescope she had picked up. The instrument showed the harbor, and the barricade in the fading sunlight was quite visible, indeed. "Good question. We will load all of your things into this small rowboat, and with both of us pulling it along, we can land over by that deserted pier on the left. You can see it right over there..." he pointed, directing her gaze to the far left. Douglas stood so close he could smell the seawater in her hair. He then looked at her, and then backed away, over to the stairs, "I will go collect your things. Stay here." "Curiouser, and curiouser' as in the words of Alice," Candace thought as she watched him go down into the hold, soon reappearing with her trunk and her wet dress. Why did he suddenly go silent? Did she do something wrong? She looked at him quizzically, as he put the trunk into a life boat, and secured it to the bottom. "Okay," Douglas mumbled, as he pointed down at the water, where he had just released the boat, "I will jump in, and you follow. Don't worry, all that is in there is fish," he said reading her expression of fear. Then he jumped in, and waited for her silently, the beads of water dripping off his forehead and hair. It was going to be a long trip, as he could already tell. Candace wasn't afraid at all, and they made the silent swim over to the pier quite easily. They climbed up the pier ladder with her trunk, and rushed behind a boathouse. The most dangerous part of the adventure was just beginning. Douglas broke into the boathouse, and pushed Candace and the trunk inside and whispered, "Change into one of your dresses. We need to find your cousin's house soon. What road was it?" As Candace rushed to put on one of her dresses, she replied, "My cousin, Jennifer Cousteau, said her new chateau was on La Grange Street. Number 31, why must I get dressed in one of these dresses?" "I want you to look as normal as possible. I know your cousin, and I don't want her to recognize me directly. Or anyone else for that matter." "What? What do you mean? I didn't...," she mumbled, not knowing who she was dealing with anymore, "How do you know Jennifer? I haven't seen her for over 12 years." Douglas urged her to hurry up and then briefed her, "Did you see that picture of that woman?" he asked, getting a nod in reply, "That was Jennifer last year. We were married, but I loved the sea too much, so I left her, and had an operation to change my facial features." "My lord! We were related! Why didn't you tell me?" Candace exclaimed, finally packing up the trunk and pushing it over to Douglas, "Jennifer never told me she was married. Well, that doesn't matter, let's go," she said, pushing her way out of the boat house, "La Grange Street is this way." They both stole through the dusk, passing in the alleys of the once bustling town of excitement. They had to be careful not to meet any police, because anyone caught trying to leave or come into the city would be arrested and put to death. Suddenly, a policeman stepped into an adjoining alley a few blocks down. "Stop! Stop you! You are under arrest for breaking the curfew...," the man yelled chasing them until they were out of sight. Once they were safe, they stopped on a street corner that was dark. Apparently the lamp lighter had died. Douglas bent over to catch his breath, setting the trunk down with a thud, while Candace looked up and began to giggle foolishly, holding her sides, "Look up! That policeman sure was an omen!" she pointed to the street sign. They just happened to be on La Grange Street. "Well, well. You are a gem," Douglas smiled, his teeth glowing in the darkness. He then grabbed the trunk, and pulled her along, looking for the fateful house. "My, my Candace, welcome!" Candace's cousin Jennifer replied, "And who is this?" Jennifer was about Candace's age, and Candace had never really liked her. She was all alone in the house, except Thomas was there with her, or at least he should have been. Candace wondered why Jennifer looked so solemn and sad. Did one of her friends die? Jennifer was dressed in a black gown, and you could smell brandy on her breath. Her blonde hair was hanging down to her waist, and Jennifer apparently didn't recognize Douglas, much to his relief. If you compared Candace and Jennifer, they looked almost the same. "Why are you here? Didn't you get my letter? Why risk so much for nothing?" she asked leading Candace and Douglas into the parlor, the trunk recently deposited in the upstairs hall. "What do you mean?" Douglas fired the question at her, sparing no one's feelings, "Candace came to nurse Thomas! Why else?" he then yelled, plopping himself into one of the chairs, acting like he did when they were married. "Thomas died three days ago," Jennifer replied, her feelings hurt, "I'm so sorry Candace." Candace just stood there. Her eyes began to swell with tears for her love, and the hardships of her journey beginning to bear down upon her. She then began to omit a high pitched wail, and threw every breakable thing around the room. She tore her dress, and started hitting Douglas and Jennifer, who then ram to hide behind one of the chairs. Suddenly, Candace stopped, and collapsed, in a pile of silk and insaneness. Douglas rushed to her aid, while Jennifer ran to get a doctor. "Well, she will be alright. Shame, she went into a frenzy like that. I will be going now," the doctor said leaving the room. Douglas was there, and Jennifer left the house, afraid of another spell of terror from her cousin. He sat there on the edge of her bed, stroking the red hair that fell gently over her shoulders. Douglas knew that when she woke up, she would want him to be with her forever. Was he ever so wrong. The early morning sun shone through the small room's curtains, and Candace woke up with a start, "Where am I?" she replied, looking right into Douglas's eyes, "Oh my lord, Thomas is dead!" she mumbled as she got up, almost knocking Douglas to the floor, "It is your fault! You didn't get me here on time! My Thomas died because of you!" Douglas could feel another attack coming on as she backed up to the vanity that stood against the wall. Candace turned around, noting the doctor's knife that had been left there. She gripped the knife in one hand, the vanity in the other. "Well, what more can I say, I tried Candace. Forget Thomas, you love me now. We can sail away together. Just us," he pleaded, wishing none of this had happened, after seeing her grip the knife, "Please, I love you, Candace." Douglas meant in with all his heart. The last few days were just a mere trial of his strength, to see if he could love again, and he found he could. "It doesn't matter. Thomas is dead now. I never liked you, you were evil. I saw it the moment you first got mad at me on the boat. I could never love a man like that," Candace replied menacingly, lowering the knife to her waist, the blade shining against the green dress she wore. It was the dress she wore on the very first day of the trip to nowhere. "Please, Candace, put the knife down," were the last words Douglas could utter, before she plunged the blade into his heart. Candace then did the same to herself, ending the tragedy. "I can only love one." |