April 17, 1805
It occurred to me that I was
rather lonely on this journey, and while fishing through some of Gunter's old stuff,
I found you! It is so odd that you are blank, and that he was going to leave
you behind, but oh well. Now you are mine.
I do believe that the next thing
that is in order is to give you a name! I cannot possibly go on referring to
you as 'you' for the rest of my days. I shall call you 'Tea' because I like
tea, and I think I shall really like you too.
Hmm, so where should I begin,
then, Tea? Well, all right, I suppose I'll start with David. I know that is
what you are dying to hear about...
I think this might be it, you
know? Even if he doesn't return my affections, I think I'll just quit. The
entire process of getting my heartbroken isn't something I enjoy- not at all-
and I don't like fooling myself into believing that things can actually be possible.
Of course, I am talking about Jean... and I really thought he was it too. Tea,
everything is really confusing. Jean was a perfect mess, and he needed me. He
really did. But then he dragged me to
But... I think he was happy to
leave. Something just felt different when he was gone, like tension was
relieved. Have you ever felt that before? I think he was only doing those
things to make me happy- but I did that once too... and I was never happy. How
could I be expected to allow him to do the same to himself? And Jean would
have. He would have made himself miserable to make me happy- and that makes me
feel worse.
Never mind, because he is a liar.
I saw him just a week ago... and he might be dead... but he was alive, and in
But I don't want Jean dead, Tea.
He is not a bad person, just so hopelessly lost... and Gabriel told me not to
try and lead him, because we will both be miserable. I hope he's not dead. I do
want to see him again and tell him that he will forever be my companion, and I
do want him to write me. I just know he'll be happier if he doesn't have to
worry about everything all the time-- all I can bring him is a load of
troubles. He won't be just gambling with taking lives, but he'll be committing
another sin by loving me... I don't think I'm a horrible person.
Can we talk about David now?
I was instantly drawn to him-
wanted to know him and help him with whatever he needed. But then he started
talking and was very rude-- and was nudging my foot at lunch that one day! And
then he says that he didn't mean to and it was all a big mistake. I don't think
he has been listening to a word that I have been saying this entire time. I
know he doesn't remember anything I told him about Annouska.
Oh well, I've never really had
anyone listen to me that closely anyways. Except for you. But you really don't
count, I'm sorry. Nothing personal.
But he acted so surprised when I
told him I was going to go back to
But that's exactly the thing,
isn't it? I never know with him. He has the face of a rock- unreadable unless
someone took a pen and wrote across its surface-- but why would anyone want to
write on a rock if they had paper? I guess some people don't have paper... God
didn't have paper. That's why he wrote on stone tablets, I think. Well, I'm
sure he had paper-- but stone was stronger. Um.
Well, he has very impassive
features. Dark green eyes, dark hair, tanned skin-- and he's so tall and broad
shouldered. Um....
Tea... I think I should go now.
Until later, your friend,
Nickolai-Dmitri
Good morning, Tea. We are about to
head out on our journey... and I decided to take a moment to jot down my
thoughts on the upcoming trek across the countryside.
First off, I am not fond of the
idea of traveling with another woman. They are unlucky at sea, you know? Might
as well be unlucky everywhere. Art's not a woman yet- so she doesn't count.
What a dear little girl, though. At first I was rather put off by her strange
resemblance to Annouska, but now that I have gotten
to know her, I see that I was mistaken in thinking that she was all trouble.
Sure, she did sneak to Aix with
us, and then to here-- and she is persistent, and somewhat chirpy at times, but
then again, so am I. And I do like myself quite a bit, so it is only natural
that I have grown to like her. She is so very much like my beloved niece in
Still, I should love to have them.
I love kids. Love them, love them, love them. They are so delightfully ignorant
of all the ways of the world, and I feel so important when I can offer my
assistance in their growth and maturity. But I am not exactly the most grown-up
person, either. Indeed, I feel like a child in most things... even if I have
the capability to take see myself through most anything on my own- I still like
that hand to hold, and speaking of...
David is driving me crazy! He
isn't paying any attention to me anymore, not since she came along. I don't
care if has only been an hour since we met her, he is flashing smiles and being
too nice. What happened to his sarcasm, eh? I really should just stop,
shouldn't I? Tea, my mind is racing! I need to talk to him about
Oh, I'm such a romantic idiot. But
you know, I should probably hide you somewhere, because if someone gets a hold
of you, they could turn me in and I could die.
You are a threat to my life, Tea.
I guess I'll keep you close on me, and maybe carry around some of those weight
things so I can drop you into the sea if I'm on a ship and we're boarded. Gah, I hate the French- except for Gabby... and Art... and
maybe Jean. Well, I hate Napoleon! Urrrrrrg! He's
such a bastard. I want to shove his face down an ostrich hole and kick him in
the rear. Or make him eat chocolate until his ugly face is sick.
He's the one keeping David away
from me. Grrrr. I hate him. Not David, Tea, Napoleon.
Oh, they should not even be in the same sentence together! Does Nickolai-Dmitri Carton sound reasonable? I think it does. I'd have
to drop Chevalier and Petrovich, because five names
for one person is a bit on the abundant side. I am much more fitted for three.
Even now I usually drop Petrovich, though that might
change when I get back to my home. Need to establish myself again.
I want a home, desperately. And I
want someone that loves me more than anything in the world, so I can love them
too. But how can I tell anyone that, except for you? (You really don't count.)
Tea, I am doomed to die a lonely bachelor! Maybe I can change my ways, throw
away all of my material goods, convert to Catholicism and become a monk.
They're the ones with monks, right? I don't really know, but the life of a monk
seems decent. A plain simple life- but I'd have to cut my hair, and I really
wouldn't want to do that. All monks are bald, mum said so.
I miss mum. The mum that I knew
before
Oh, God. It's true... We really
are looking for someone that is like our father.
I think I'm going to be sick.
Right now.
Excuse me.
Regretfully closing you, Nickolai-Dmitri
I'm sorry to have put you down
earlier, Tea. But at least the urge to die has passed, and I am no longer
concerned about the similarities between my father and David- after all, the
only thing they are similar in is their use of sarcasm. Father is a bastard,
and David is not. That's what I have to focus on.
I wish he would give me a moment
to talk to him alone though- ever since she joined the party, that gypsy has
been monopolizing him. I don't want to feel this way towards her, and I
typically don't like being hostile towards anyone- but if she does start to
display a romantic interest in him, well.... I'll... I'll just sit and watch,
and then quit the whole search for true love thing. Maybe I might get a little
angry too, a few hissy fits and then just submissive
agreement.
I could fool a woman into thinking
I love her, and then marry and have children... and why I can't help but think
that would be the easiest path, I do believe it would be the worst for me. No
one ever said life was easy, indeed, it is anything but. Nothing is black and
white... and I find myself always walking on a thin line of gray- teetering
constantly to one side or another, trying to find a balance that will get me
through. I don't think it exists.
Ok, so I don't entirely hate Iolantha, and my earlier address of her as 'that gypsy'
('that' as in 'ipsum' ... a derogatory connotation)
must be revoked now. It was wrong of me to refer to her ethnicity in a
slanderous comment, very wrong. Now, I will not be mean. I swear it here. Even
if she steals his heart away I will not be mean, I will force a smile and go
running back to
Let's get off that subject now,
because I'm tired of it.
It's nearing night now, getting
cold and the stars are coming out again. I love the cold- it is refreshing and
a great excuse for cuddling. I love it when you can see your breath before your
face and and the bitter winds nip at your cheeks and
nose. I love scarves and hats. I love wrapping my scarf around my face and
pulling my hat down to my eyebrows- so I can see everyone and no one can see
me. Alex said I looked like a turtle once. I don't like turtles though.
But I like shells. Sea shells
especially. We're heading to the sea now, but I won't be getting on that ship.
I'll have to lay out everything clear before then- tell David exactly how I
feel- because unlike his spooky brother, he can't read minds or expressions.
I wonder if we'll see his brother
again-- I think Victor was his name. He was cute- but extremely scary. I think
he has some self-esteem problems. He said something about David always being
angry with him, I think- and it was around Victor that I first saw David near
violence. Maybe if they just took the time to talk, everything might clear up.
I don't know. I felt like I was an open book when he looked at me, with all of
my words bare and easy to see. I didn't like that feeling... He knew about Matty...
We used to spend some nights under
the stars down at the beach. I'd beg him to leave the shop for the evening, and
we'd have dinner down under the docks at low tide. I won't mention anything
else we did... but it wasn't of a proper nature, if you catch my meaning. In
any case, it was always fun to sprawl out on the sand, staring straight up at
the dark blue sky... In
I want to see it again, and I will
soon. I hear it's romantic with a sweet heart... but I'm getting rather tired
now, so I think I will surrender myself to pleasant dreams of these desires.
Good night, Tea.
Until tomorrow, Nickolai-Dmitri
I have no idea where to begin. I
suppose the easiest way to start this is to say that I had no trouble keeping
guard this last afternoon, because I would not have been able to catch a wink
of sleep if I wanted to! Even now, after a very frightful encounter, am I still
giddy with glee- and I would tell everyone that it is love, if only they would
understand... and then again, there is also that minor detail about not wanting
to be hanged.
So I was sitting there last night,
I had just finished writing in you, when David roots himself beside me(Roots!
Clever, clever. haha!). I am not so happy at the time, more or less wary of
whatever he is going to say that might make me feel less sure of myself- and
instead he plows (haha, plows) right into the heart of the matter. It was a big
misunderstanding. David thought I was trying to belittle him, when actually, I
don't think anyone should be able to if you look at his build.
And then there is Goliath, who was
struck down by a stone... by a shepherd boy... but, um...
I quickly resolved the matter- and
I said the most daring of things, Tea. I told him, in my own round-about way,
that I was desperately in love with him. Well, more subtly of course, I don't
want to scare the brute away! So, I made it clear, and he took my hand. It was
as if the stars in the heavens had melted away and left us with the newest of
blank skies. I've never felt anything like it before- it was intriguing, and
scary at the same time.
And I haven't even gotten to the
good part... well, you'll have to keep it a secret, you understand, because
this would condemn me to the gallows. He kissed me. I emphasize the phrase that
he kissed me. I kissed back, of course, but do remember that it
was he who placed his lips to mine. It felt fantastic. Fantastic, amazing,
breathtaking (the very reason I had to pull away, curse him for having such a
kiss!), and made me just want to know him more. That’s what I want above all
things, is to know him... and to be able to call him my own- or vice-versa, I
really don’t care what role I’m in, if you understand.
Matty,
of course, required that I was always the submissive one, and I could deal with
that willingly for the rest of my life if it were with David. But I really am
getting ahead of myself- burn that bridge if we ever get there, you know– and I
must confess I hope we do get there eventually. But eventually can be a long
time away, and I also confess that I would not mind the wait. I think David is
really worth all of this trouble, and I hope he feels the same about me. Oh, I
know he does. There really is no doubt in my mind any longer. I am as precious
to him as he is to me.
Art is also precious. I heard the
doll talking in her sleep last night. She said something along the lines of
wanting to dance with me today. I am up for it, of course, and I hope that I
will be able to make her happy with my light feet. They would have to be light
for me to tread upon the clouds as I do.
You know, Tea, I’m not sure there
really is a reality when you are an actor. An actor’s reality is the stage,
which isn’t a reality at all. But then again, I never expected to discover that
practiced witchcraft actually existed, much less could perform it.
Yes, Victor did show up again-
funny thing was, after I was scared for a minute, I realized that he seems
pretty harmless... He smiled at me, and then told both of us, David and I, that
we were good for one another. That’s comforting! But he left soon after, and
seemed rather concerned about things... David didn’t talk much after that, and
the mood was ruined.
I saw him off to his bed, of
course, and then settled back down by the fire for some stargazing. The night
felt so new. You know, there are a lot of stars up in the sky. I’ve never
really took the time to notice just how many there are. I think that God was
trying to place us into a giant aquarium, the glass broke, and God just was too
lazy after building everything to sweep up the glass. That’s what the stars
are. I’m sure any scientist could explain away the phenomenon as if they knew,
but I think they are just so full of themselves. I think we are like fish to
God though. He just watches us and pokes on the glass sometimes, sprinkles some
food down here for us to eat. I suppose he’s a pretty good caretaker, and he’d
have to, to have so many pets! Maybe we’re more like seamonkeys.
Maybe we’re just people. It’s
written that He made us in His image, right? He must have a lot of images. You
can just look around and see the variety of faces. Can God shapeshift?
I’d like to be able to turn into a small cat and stretch out in the sun
whenever I felt like I needed a break.
Oh dear, I just realized that I
might not ever see my precious Annouska again. I
wonder if she’ll miss me... That’s the second one I lost! I’m beginning to
sadden myself, so I really must dwell on something else now. David, David,
David, David...
Yes, it’s getting better now.
All right, I can get another cat-
or I can go back to Aix and get Annouska someday.
Yes, that will do. Before I go to
Maybe I can adopt or something.
I’m sure there are millions of babies in
Ah, lunch is over, and we are
heading out again.
I shall try and update tomorrow! I
must get some sleep tonight.
Good
bye, Tea!
Nickolai-Dmitri Carton (Haha!)
Some strange things happened
yesterday after lunch. I resumed my normal place by David, just strolling along
and chatting with hidden wit in almost every sentence (of course, this was lost
on my dear marine- whose simple mind is absolutely adorable on him), when I
remembered that funny question that I wished to ask him. You probably don’t
remember, Tea, so let me refresh your memory. I want children. So I decided to
ask him how he felt on the matter. Rather simple, right? Well, I was wrong- I
suppose.
I ambled upon the topic slowly, bringing
up children in general first, then speaking on how fond I was of my own youth,
and how I would love to rear up my own bunch someday. He nodded on amiably- and
I know he was listening, despite that blank expression and fake reply- and then
all of a sudden stopped and stared long and hard at me. Like a boiled egg.
I don’t like boiled eggs. I think
they are rather disgusting in taste, unless heavily salted and spiced. I am a
big fan of the spices, and would prefer all of my foods to be coated in something
that tickles the palette. I suppose that is why I am rather fond of French
food, even if nothing else about their culture sparks my interest. Pesto pasta
is amazing. The basil can come off a bit strong at times, but if you get just
the right amount it is stupendous. I love pasta in general. The Italians know
how to do it right when it comes to pasta, as you know, and I have had the
pleasure of visiting that charming boot-shaped country twice.
Speaking of boots, I’m beginning
to wear out the soles in mine. I’ve had them for quite a while now. Three or
four years to be exact, and now they are failing me. I must forgive them for
their frailty however, when you think just how long they have served me. It is
ironic that now is the time they have chosen to fall apart, as it were. Do
boots suppose or choose anything though? Come to think of it, do the cows that
provide us with the leather for our boots choose or suppose?
I can picture myself in a field,
happily chewing my cud, when along comes a farmer with a bucket of oats. I hear
the oats being rattled deep down in that tempting barrel, and I feel a slight
pang in one of my four stomachs. Yes, four. Rather impressive, I know. I am
rather fond of the breeze that is blowing my hair and keeping the flies from my
back- there is a pretty heifer (or bull, in my case) on the other side of the
fence in the opposite field, that if I tilt my head in just such an angle that
I can see her (or his, in my case) tail swishing so flirtatiously- and there is
some precious green clover at my hooves. I can still hear the farmer calling my
name- do I choose the serene place of the now, or do I choose the rustling
grains and the bellowing farmer of the future? Suppose I do not want to walk
that distance back to the barn?
But that is silly, I suppose. I
think that they would just go and get the grains, being the mindless animals
they are, and never think twice when they are slaughtered. Ugh. I am glad we
are having sausage for breakfast, and not a beef patty. I don’t think my bowels
would suffer it- not that they have been doing much suffering lately. In fact,
I find that on the road I have bowels of iron. There is nothing that can thwart
them, and I have not suffered from an aching belly since I arrived in
Oh, dear Felix! I shall have to
send word back with Gabby– an answer to his question on release. After many
days of reflection, I think the way to separate yourself from this world and go
on to the next would be to just simply say goodbye. Felix must say goodbye to
Gabriel and goodbye to his father... Lord knows he will meet Jean on the other
side, poor wretched soul. Jean that is- but I suppose Felix will also suffer
such adjectives when having to put up with his brother (if he is not restored
to his wits that is).
Goodbyes are the hardest things to
say to a love one- but you just have to have faith that you will one day see
them again- in this life or the next. I believe that with all my heart. Gabriel
and I will be parting ways soon, I know, and it is tearing my soul to pieces
that he will be all alone. Of course, we did talk about Mlle. George- a strange
name. He is quite head over heels for the woman, methinks. They danced at the
ball I attending in
In these days past, I have
realized that I have come to know that Badeau brother
better than the one I had fallen in love with. I am amazed at how quickly the
heart forgets its passions when something better comes along- how quickly I
have lost my memories of that first kiss I shared with Jean, or the first day I
learned of his treachery to
He was the man who broke my chains
and set me free from the life I had been living, and gave me a new beginning.
He taught me how to love again, and how to adore someone for everything they
are... even if blood stains their hands. Love knows no boundaries. I somehow
knew that the moment he left me in Aix, that it would be the last I would see
of him as my affectionate friend. I should have never let him leave. He should
have run with me to the hills of Russia and embraced his fear of everything I
had to offer– instead he backed selfishly, stealing what love I had given him
and going straight back to his old ways.
I am reminded of the day when I
first met him- the egotistical toad. He had taken advantage of my absence to
cast himself into the
...from my only hate. Jean,
you were once that... and you, inevitably, and unintentionally, lead me to
David. I can only adore you more for that, that my time with you released my
soul so that I could enjoy life once again. It is so hard to say goodbye to
you... to know that you are gone, and that I will never be able to show you my
appreciation. Beloved Jean, you will always be dear to my heart, as the kind
soul I desperately needed in my personal hell, as the lover I desired (and I
can only thank you for letting me love you, even if you never declared those
three powerful words to me in turn), and as the companion I lost.
You have taught me to treasure
everything I have- and I hope that I somehow managed to have taught you the
same before your parting. I will hold onto David, and not let him go. Perhaps,
if you are in Heaven, you will smile down on us...
But please don’t stare.
And oh! Speaking of! David just
stared at me! The response was not something I expected at all. Quite plainly,
and in a tone of pure bewilderment, he uttered the blundering phrase “That’s
impossible.” Now what on earth did he mean? Impossible? To have children?
In any case, I expect to be having
a longer talk with him about it later before lunch. I’ll get back to you then.
This will not rest until it is resolved.
Affectionately yours,
Nickolai-Dmitri
I’m sorry for not getting back to
you yesterday, but I was very exhausted after trying to talk to that stone wall
that is my lover. Ok, yes, I am perfectly aware that ‘lover’ is a bit of a
strong word to use in labeling my blooming relationship. I, however, am also perfectly
aware of the joy it brings me to use that term in reference to my big
blundering marine. He managed to blunder his way entirely through our
conversation, and still not give me an answer.
I did manage to explain to him
that by having children I meant adopting, and that I just wanted his opinion on
the matter. He stuttered and nearly choked on his food. I can’t believe him.
Such an ox and yet he’s afraid of a simple subject. I really do want children,
badly. I’m 24 now, one year older and no more the wiser. But I feel that I
should try my hand at parenting. I could give a child what they needed, all of
the necessities, and lots of love. Such darlings, they are.
I want a girl. Two girls, and
maybe a little boy. But how to explain to them about their ol’
“mum” and dad when they’re old enough to realize that two men don’t make a
whole. Well, I think it does, obviously, because I’ve never felt more whole in
my life, but in the normal society it isn’t tolerated. I don’t know what to do.
Then again, if they were loving children, they wouldn’t rat on us.
Oh, I don’t really care. A life
without children won’t be worth living- just like a life without David won’t be
worth living- or a life without going back to
But on the subject of children-
and I have addressed it many times before, I know- I do think I might start
trying to figure out what Art’s plans are after this entire adventure. I mean,
if she has no where to go, she might as well come along with me and David- if
David doesn’t mind. If he does... I’ll have to persuade him otherwise. I don’t
think he’ll mind though, because David seems fond of her too.
She could be the start of the
entire parenting experiment at least- and that way we’ll still have time for
our own relationship and all- because Art definitely won’t mind the way I
am.... I hope. Oh! I don’t even know that she knows that I am a pouffe! What will I do? How am I going to tell her? And
what, by all that’s Holy, will she say? Will she damn me to hell? Oh, I could
not bear that. Will she sneer in disgust? I cannot even see how or why she
would accept such an ugly fact about me. But maybe, in her honest and good
heart, she will see that I am still Nicki, and that I will take very good care
of her should she let me.
Just like I’ll take care of
David... on the good side of everything though, we took a little walk in the
woods after nightfall last night, and he gave me another kiss. It was really
sweet, and I could tell he was blushing, but I’m sure he could see I was
blushing too. There is just something about him that makes me feel perfect, and
I hope that I do the same thing for him... because to me, he is perfect. A
perfect blundering idiot. God, I do love him...
Ok, so another year has gone by,
and perhaps I’ve gotten a little smarter...
Well, I’ll talk to you later, Tea.
Good-by,
Nickolai-Dmitri Chevalier-Carton (the best version so
far)
Yesterday was perhaps the best
birthday I have ever had, Tea. I've never thought too much about the silly
celebrations of another year passing, but I have never had so much to celebrate
either. I do not need to tell you again about how wonderful I feel. If I could
only just freeze my feelings right now and store them here, I could turn back
to this page every time I'm sad and just grin away. I acknowledge that times will
get harder, and I will be sad sometimes, but that is nothing to compare to now.
Now that I mentioned freezing, I
must comment that it did get a little chilly last night, and I had to restrain
myself from cuddling close to David. I did steal his jacket though, and it felt
amazing to slip into it and curl in to hug myself. It wasn't the same, but was
close enough. I hate to sound pathetic, or even stalkerish,
but I did enjoy the faint smell of sea salt on the material. It was comforting,
and it might have replaced pine as my favorite fragrance. I also like the smell
of coconuts- but I have only had the pleasure to get a whiff of that once.
You know, I also like how it feels
and how it smells right before it rains. In the countryside, the grass seems to
glow a little brighter, an electrifying green that clearly demonstrates how a
single event can change something to dramatically that life seems to radiate
from it. I wish my shoes would do that.
The soles are falling out now, and
I'm considering just walking bare foot. I don't think my feet could handle it.
Too bad I'm not as light as Art, maybe David would carry me. Hehehe. Ah, ok.
I kissed him, right before we went
to sleep, I leant over and gave him a peck on the cheek when no one was
watching. Then I hurried and turned on my side, curling up with his jacket. I
knew he was looking at me, and I heard him chuckle. That was very nice. Nothing
really has happened this morning though, and I'm beginning to worry about the
trip back to
I don't want to be pressed...
maybe I'll just start thinking about that.
Well, good-by, Tea.
Nicki "Le Reux" Carton
I am now refusing to call this a
journal. I will call you Tea, the running commentary on a confused Russian's
life. Then maybe one day you will be published, and everyone can say
"Oh!" and it will all make sense. I hope it eventually makes sense to
me, in any case. That would be my first priority with this thing. I know that a
few people are already a bit curious about what I am writing, since I am very
unapproachable at breakfast time when I am occupied with you.
You are very stable and will
probably remain a constant in my life until I grow very bored of your blank
pages and throw you into a river. This would also be followed by me hopping
into the very same river and trying, in vain, to save you. Drowning would be
very painful, I expect. It is like having the air sucked out of you, and there
is nothing you can do about it. All there is to do is just stare, gaping,
ahead, at a gaping fish, that is gawking at you. If only these scaly aquatic
animals could speak. I wonder what they would say to a man about to take his
last breath of cold icy water. I imagine, it would go something like this:
"Hey, you, there. What you
think you up to? You supposed to be up there, on dry land, you stupid bloke.
Swim, damnit. Flap your arms like a bird--- oh, I
hate birds--- and .... Hey, you, there. What you think you up to?" At the
break, I imagine that the said fish would have glanced up to make sure this was
not a trap, and, in its moment of horror, have forgotten what it had been doing
five seconds prior.
Proceeding in this fashion, the
poor fish would have no opportunity to save the human. The human, on the other
hand, when it had heard the talking fish (and they really aren't supposed to
talk), would probably think that he has already died, and thus would resign
himself to his watery grave where the once helpful fish turns into a
carnivorous Judas.
I am sure that is how it would
happen.
I think now I shall recount the
activities of yesterday in reverse chronological order. I had a dream about
crumpets and tea, a party in which I was very splendidly dressed, a talking
boot (that one shows up a lot), that damned green virgin from the painting in
Jean's house, and a vast field of wild flowers. I went to sleep, a rather easy
task after the very long walk and the excruciating pain in my foot.
Prior to my unconscious state, I
had been speaking with David, as usual, about life in general. When I say
speaking, I mean that I was doing most of the talking and he was merely nodding
his head or shaking it, and grunting every once in awhile in said nod-shake
format. I wish he would offer a little more input when I am going on about
things that are important- such as the intended plans when we get back to
England.
I don't think he even knows, by
the by, and is planning (an ironic word) to hear it by ear. I don't know what
hearing has got to do with it. But in any case, I spread my hands in simple
resignation to his wisdom and will back casually to the door, ever bowing as a
respectful equal. I do like to bow, you know. Show a little leg. As an actor, I
am no stranger to the art of improvisation, but life is a bit more rigged with
consequence than the stage. It is as if he has no concern over what will happen
when we get back to
This, I refuse to believe.
In an extraordinary burst of
cunning, I have devised a plan, just now- involving ropes, trousers, a
well-placed agent on the other side of the channel, a talking-fish, a wizard,
and a very messed up boot. Of course, said plan is still in beginning stages,
and, in all likely hood, will fail- at once. Damnit.
Still working on said plan,
perhaps tossing out the unnecessary items mentioned.
My foot is killing me. I stepped
on a jagged rock on the walk yesterday, and it broke right through the bottom
of my shoe and cut open the curved part of my foot. Every time I take a step
the skin seems to tear a little more, and my foot keeps sweating because it is
so damned hot, so it stings all the time. I have been trying to take care of it
inconspicuously, because I would rather not bring attention to so small a
matter, but it really does bring a tear to my eyes when I step wrong.
I really do wish I were lighter
and David could carry me.
Alas, it is not to be so, and I
will adjust the heavy bag on my back as a welcome burden and trek on. In two
days we should be reaching
Ants have really high hopes. Too
high, I imagine. They make their little mounds of dirt, their many underground
circuits, and then a rowdy young lad, about the age of ten and two, in a wave
of fuy (it is expected after they are told they have
to move to a ruddy island), kicks the mound of dirt and forces the ants to
restart their architecture. It happens too much. I suppose it is like Job in
the Bible. God knocked him around and kicked down his pile- sent him to a ruddy
island- and said deal with it, by
Well, that was entirely pointless.
I didn't talk very much yesterday,
was in a pitiful mood where even the color of the dirt was depressing. Dirt
really should be a more delightful color. Then again, if it was, no one would
ever look up from their feet to see what lies ahead of them, and no one would
ever get to where they were going.
Where am I going? And what lies
ahead? Why won't David help develop a plan to keep me off of a sodding naval ship? AH! Too much stress. My foot hurts. I
am not expecting great things from today, either, Tea. So when I come back with
a rant, deal with it, by God.
I just knocked your pile down.
... I'm sorry...
At least, when I do look at the
last entry, I can manage to smile...
Well, good day, you bloody fool.
The ever-confused Nickolai-Dmitri, Russian actor and
lover of English men
Yeah, I'm really sorry about
yesterday, Tea. You are just a journal, not some life altering piece of work
that will bring someone to a moment of sudden epiphany. I wish I could have
that sort of faith in you, but you know, I can only do so much for myself, and
you in comparison are like a weak little goat. Baaaah
is what you say to all of my squanderings and
problems. I typically have to agree with you.
After a day of resting and trying
to reorganize myself, I have recovered. My sanity is finally restored, and I am
starting to resemble my usual cheerful self. I think that is to the relief of
all, but I could be wrong. Peter keeps looking over at Art and blushing... I
think that's why he is happy. Really though, after a week of walking with these
people, I am beginning to get tired. I feel absolutely sympathetic to Gabriel,
who has to turn back with the same long road before him... alone.
I approached him with an offer to
go back with him, but he gave me a firm 'no' and told me to see myself back to
My foot is still killing me, and I
think it is starting to get infected. I washed it to the best of my ability,
and took a strip of cloth around it as a bandage, but I'm not sure if I have
tended to it properly. Oh, dear Lord! I wish I could cut it off. I think David
saw me crying about it last night when I was trying to get some of the dead
skin off... Oh well. He didn't say anything, like usual. He just gave me a
reproachful look when I gave him a confused look when I came back. It was a
startling expression on his face, I do admit.
It made me remember that he was
still a marine. I certainly can't ask him to desert and come with me... but I
don't know what else to do. I refuse to bring that up until he does, because I
don't want him to get irritated.
Gah! I
want to cut it off, right now... just take a knife and swish, it would be
gone... damnit. I want to cry. Can't cry. Crying is
bad when it's about physical or mental pain. Yes, indeed, the natural tension relieval system of our body is banned for men. A shame, but
then again, I would hate to see David cry. Nevermind
that I hardly consider myself part of the male race, most of the time. Was he
reproachful because I was hiding something from him, or that I was crying? I
wonder... I wonder how he feels about that.
Good Lord, I know he loves me. I
see it in his eyes, and I can feel it whenever he touches me-- What am I on
about? I can't feel anything! I can't register anything I am feeling because
... what is that noise?
Oh, that noise has been following
us all the way on this trip, a faint twittering in the treetops that is driving
me insane. If they are monkeys... well, let us not go into what I will do if
they are monkeys. If they are goats... well, they wouldn't be in a tree, I
suppose.
Flying goats... there's a thought
to reflect upon. I shall do that presently, and get back to you about how that
went.
Ta ta.
Nicki
The flying goats thing didn’t go
so well, Tea. More or less I forgot to dwell on that absurd subject when I
caught David throwing a smirk in my direction. The sun had just managed to rise
to the right place, and the angle of rays it sent shining down on us made his
green eyes sparkle in the most alluring of fashions. God must have set tiny
emeralds in those eyes for them to glitter so. With a slight stagger to my step
(I had gotten up too fast on my injured foot), I moved to sit with him, away
from the group so that we might speak alone. The verbal communication was kept
to a bare minimum, and instead I found my hand once again in his, just looking
out over a little stream.
He didn’t mention my foot, and
when I finally brought up the chance of me getting pressed, a flicker of
concern passed over his face. I’m not sure if it had ever dawned on him that
because he had orders, I could still be the victim of a, and using the most
crude word possible, rape– much like the rape of the Sabine women in Roman
history. Those emeralds sparkled again, Tea, and his hand just squeezed tighter
around mine. He still didn’t say anything though... I could see that I would have
to be the one to craft a way out of everything. Easy enough, though. I’ve
already started to develop a better theory than my last one— a simple disguise.
A woman.
This will obviously disturb David
to the point of no return. I think he has some sort of impediment when it comes
to women... his tongue knots up and his entire body goes rigid. I’ve noticed
this. I think it’s rather funny too. I, on the other hand, have become a lot
more friendly in regards to the opposite sex (I refuse to call them the ‘fairer’),
and who could blame me when I no longer have to worry about some witch stealing
my darling man away? He only has eyes for me... I can tell, and oh, Heavens! I
love those eyes!
I found out what that shrill noise
was by the by, and I must regretfully report that it was neither a monkey nor a
winged goat. As common sense would lead an intelligent person to believe, the
sounds I heard were from those feathered beasts that are misnamed our friends.
Indeed, all of my friends are flightless last time I checked. I paused under a
tree earlier to glance at the bottom of my foot, since I was having a hard time
ambling about on it, and one of the beasts squawked down at me, shining a beady
eye down with its head cocked so sarcastically to one side.
Their inability to look
straightforward with both eyes both disturbs and disgusts me. There is nothing
so hideous as the face of a bird, and I believe I have seen the worst of them
all in
A few of the other boys were
chasing the chickens, and so I joined in. With extraordinary skill and tact I
managed to corner one of the fowls into a corner. I was baffled about what I
was supposed to do next, so, playing the perfect aristocratic child, a brat,
more or less, I rushed at the cornered beast until it exploded in a mass of
feathers and raked at me with its sharp talons. I fell backwards, and the bird
continued to peck fiercely at the back of my hands while I curled up around
myself protectively. I don’t remember screaming, but the woman who came to my
rescue said she could hear me all the way down the street. I was taken home, my
hands in bandages and my face wet with tears... my father gave me a beating for
acting like a fool in front of all of the peasants...
In any case, I’ve never been fond
of any flying creature since- and if I have to go anywhere near a rooster, I
arm myself with a cane. I long for the day that I get to knock one of their
bloody heads off... oh, right. Sorry, Tea. That was a little violent.
The bird I had the unfortunate
pleasure of seeing yesterday was a seagull. We are very close to the sea now,
and I cannot wait to be on a ship back home. I think Dounia
will be very pleased to see that I’m not dead. Her and Mishka...
and they will absolutely adore Art, I think. Art and Mishka
are the same age! They will be wonderful playmates... I think I shall have
persuade my dear sister into coming with David and
Of course, coming where, I still
don’t know. I plan to follow David, and I am having to just trust that he knows
what he is doing...
And that brings me to the other
unhappy moment I experienced today. Dieter spotted me washing my foot down by
the stream, and before I knew what had happened, he had me sitting next to a
little fire and had me talked into allowing him to mend it for me. I have come
to the conclusion that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He pulled
out a silver dagger from his boot, the cold glint of the metal I shall not
forget soon, and held it out into the flames until it seemed to satisfy his
reason. I shut my eyes, felt my foot lifted up onto the other man’s lap, and
then felt that hot metal pushed against the wound.
I could feel my skin burning, the
unbearable heat causing my flesh to blister and melt. I know I screamed then...
but I happened to have a scarf stuck in my mouth to muffle that expected noise.
I can only remember the blinding pain and the blessed relief when the source of
the heat was taken from me. And then Dieter stuck my foot into a bowl of the
stream water- as if it would really help... I think I must have thrown up...
It was much too early for such
extensive torture...at least I’m not bleeding anymore. The pain is still
present, even more intense than before, but I think I’m learning to deal with
it.
Well, here’s David again... coming
to join me on my night watch. I assure you I will be snuggling him most of the
night, and will enjoy every second of it thoroughly.
Good night, Tea.
Pray for me.
Nickolai-Dmitri