Escape to Ecarte Island

The Stargazing Shepherd

          If the home of Gilbert and Violet Baugainvillea was no chateau (according to Dietfried, anyway), it certainly was compared to the old shepherd's cottage built into the side of a tall hill that Petrich decided to purchase (under Gilbert's name) and make into his studio.
          It was not even as big in square feet as the spacious attic leased from Claudia Hodgins. . .where she tends to stay whenever she can. . .
But the old shepherd cottage was cozy and still quite functional. Nestled in the side of the hill, much of the wind sweeping in from a cooling sea was efficiently blocked. But just above the cottage, at the top of the hill was the crowning glory of the entire island, as far as Petrich was concerned.
Looking up at the night sky atop the hill revealed the whole of, what those who believed in multiple gods called, the firmament, or dome structure housing every star in existence. Petrich did not believe in such things.
           He was of the faith that believed each star was a ball of fire that was born, and shone in the vastness of the universe, taking hundreds, if not thousands of years for its light to travel for Petrich's eyes to detect. And then, after thousands of years, its light finally burns out, and it dies, but not before revealing, in combination with other stars, the destinies of all existing humans.  Only an extreme few could see this. Petrich was one such few, and had finally found the best of all places to maybe one day build an observatory of his own.  A permanent home for himself, and one day, Nora Baudelaire-Hodgins.
           The very thought of reading the stars with Nora  again in a home he had built for her, made Petrich sigh dreamily, but then he snapped out of his dream and walked off the top of the hill and back into the cottage, where his work awaited him to complete.
The marriage document Petrich was under contract to complete had proven a bother, and Petrich had no love for it as he always had with the others before it. He even felt sympathy that he felt this way about it and as he worked, between humming his favorite operas, and making comments to a nonexistent Nora, Petrich would apologize to his work, for to him, it was a living thing with actual emotions. Most celestial scribes did not stress themselves over such things, but Petrich was not as most celestial scribes.
Considering the finished work, Petrich was surprised to find what an incredibly beautiful work he had created despite of all the frustration. Perhaps the document pitied him, too, and made itself gorgeous in the end. For this, Petrich bowed to it and gave words of thanks and wished for it to be displayed with honor.
The next step was to telegraph Deitfried Baugainvillea, who would ship and present the document in Petrich's stead. Petrich had only once missed a Grand Showing of his own work, but there were those who were out there on the mainland who wished him deceased. Until this problem was solved, Petrich knew he would have to stay put on this remote island.
         But perhaps Dietfried would have some news.  Petrich had not communicated with him for over two months.

"Well, no wonder at all why they call you 'The Stargazing Shepherd'," said Dietfried Baugainvillea, filling his pipe and inspecting Petrich and his abode.  
          "They?" asked Petrich.
          "Yes! Those who are in town!"
          "Oh. I haven't talked to hardly anyone since I've been here."
            "But you've been to the market square, surely."
           "Well, I can not eat at Gilbert and Violet's table every single day. Yes, I've been there from time to time."
             "Hence the pet name. It's a small island, my boy. Everyone knows everyone else's business. And what they do not know, they imagine. Apparently someone has seen you doing an early evening star reading, and their old word for astronomer is star gazer. And now you reside in a ancient goatherd cave hut."  And he said this in a tone of distaste, "Hence, 'Shepherd'."
             "Sheep, not goats." Petrich corrected a little defensively.
              "Whatever. No difference between their herders, anyway," he said, glaring at Petrich's more island friendly attire that included a knitted jumper, trousers and a woolen cap, contrasting greatly with Dietfried's usual tailored autumn ensemble.
             "At least I stay warm. Autumn is turning to winter, you know." answered Petrich haughtily, accepting Dietfried's help in loading the carefully packaged and crated document piece onto the bed of the lorry Dietfried had hired to drive the piece to the dock.
"So, not a word of anything, I take it?" Petrich asked as they carefully drove the lorry over the rutted island roads.
"I did not expect much until The Grand Showing, where tongues are bound to waggle as to why the creator of the document is not presenting. Celestial scribes from both Justitia and Woxlichen  observatories are bound to be in attendance.  There ought to be plenty to glean, especially when drinks are brought round enough." At this Dietfried chuckled.  "There is, however, a speck of news you may find of interest."
            "Oh?" asked Petrich, rather aloof, the fact that he himself would not present his work punching him in the heart.
            When Dietfried did not answer straight away, Petrich looked over at him. Dietfried was in contemplation. As he drove, he stroked the trimmed whiskers on his chin. It was his thinking trademark, of sorts. "No. . ." he sighed finally to himself, "Best not do that. . ."
           "Do what??" Petrich demanded to know.
            "Well, I would say come along anyway. Be in disguise. Be incognito, but. . ."
             "Hmm," said Petrich, unamused, "But what?"
              Dietfried hesitated with a sigh and said, "I've been approached by a certain someone asking to be escorted to this Showing, being that it shall be taking place not too far at all from Leiden."
            ". . . Alright, and?"
            "That someone is Ellenora Baudelaire-Hodgins."
             Petrich stared at him, then shook his head in disbelief. "Are you having a go at me, Dietfried? If you are, then. . ."
            "No, it's the truth, my boy." Dietfried insisted, "The announcements are all over Leiden and beyond. I had business with President Hodgins, so I had paid a visit. I shall not bore you with all of the details. Conversing with Claudia Hodgins is not unlike speaking to a giant oaf, but wife Cattleya is worth. . ." At this point, Petrich audibly sighed irritably. "Well, anyway, little Ellenora had in her possession an announcement poster. You know people collect those things. No expense was spared on the graphics on this one, to be sure! Your name is on it, of course. So, just out of messing about, I asked her if she would like to go with me. And, oh my, did her eyes go wide as teacup saucers, she was so delighted! Her father, however, was not so pleased, and explained to the girl that I was only playing games, but to make matters worse, I told him I was not and would be honored to be her escort to her first Grand Showing! . . . Now, why is it you are looking like that?"
"She is but only fourteen years old, Dietfried." Petrich reminded him.
"And what of it? In the appropriate gown, with her hair up, she could pass for 16 years easily!"
             "There is no way on this side of existence that Claudia Hodgins could possibly give his permission."
              Dietfried grinned. "That much of a cad, am I?"
              "You know you are." Petrich replied.
             "Well, be that as it may.  I also know he hates to disappoint his daughter. . . and Ellenora went on and on asking me about which Grand Showings I had attended, and what sort of documents they were and. . ."
              "And did she mention me?" Petrich interrupted lowly, asking in such a way that made Dietfried have to stop and think.
               "Hmm. . ." Dietfried mused, "Strange. Claudia pointed out your name on Ellenora's announcement poster and she looked on saying nothing, but had the most odd expression on her face. . .as if she was trying to solve a puzzle and it was just beyond her grasp."
             Petrich stared straight ahead. "So, it's begun. . ."
             "What's begun?" Dietfried asked, "You weren't willing to talk about any of it months ago sailing out here. You best clear this up, boy!"
               "Very well," said Petrich taking in a deep breath, "Several weeks before I was forced to leave Leiden, I found that I was psychically bonding with Nora.  She is my bound assistant."
             They had arrived at the dock and Dietfried stopped the lorry, and merely sat considering Petrich's words in stunned silence.
               "Not to use your own words against you, my dear friend, but. . . Ellenora is but only fourteen years old." he said after a moment, and not in any way malicious.
              Petrich nodded solemnly. "I did not think it possible for one so young to be able to see. It frightened me, to be quite honest. I immediately took star readings and drew up a skeleton."
             Dietfried's brow furrowed. "A skeleton, you say?"
              "Oh, yes. A plotted star chart. Just a bunch of intercepting lines and geometric shapes. It is the beginnings of all celestial scribe contracts. Nora gave it the name 'skeleton', meaning a contract document before becoming fleshed out."
              A sly grin appeared on Dietfried's lips. "Sounds as though she was in close proximity while you were in that attic."
              "Well, yes. She earned extra money to help with my star readings and tidying up my workspace."
               "So, you were grooming her."
                "No!" Petrich retorted, defensively. "I had practically given up all hope in finding my bound assistant.  As I have told you, I was completely shocked!"
                Dietfried was now stroking his beard again, his eyes narrowed. "And yet she made as if she did not even recognize your name. . . There is something you are not disclosing."
             "Yes, I revealed to you all this to explain her reaction to seeing my name, and yet not knowing me. Her memory of me is fading away, and soon enough, she will have no memory of me at all. I thought it best this way. Our contract is to remain incomplete, a mere skeleton, and forgotten until I am out of hiding, and she is of age. It is to keep her from suffering while we wait."
"Hmm. But consider, dear Petrich, your plan could backfire."
"Yes, I know." said Petrich, "But that is a chance I am willing to take. I will not have her suffer as Violet was made to suffer over your brother for so long."
"Yes. . .for years we both suffered over Gilbert. Violet forgave him quicker than I did." Dietfried confessed.
By this time, the steward and hired crew of The Lux was in the process of lifting the crate out of the bed of the lorry.
Dietfried and Petrich watched them closely as they loaded it onto the ship. Then Dietfried looked over at a rather emotionally drained Petrich. "You should be at the Grand Showing." he said, breaking their silence.
Petrich whipped his head round and gawked at him. "You're serious?"
"Of course! Look, this being in hiding was a necessity while your document remained unfinished, but now it is complete. Time to take the proverbial bull by the horns and give a great yank! If you recall, we survived the Rykindella Grand Showing. Sure, blood was spilt, unfortunately, some of it being your own, but we did it! Time to confront the weasels who have landed you here and have them dealt with, yes?" Petrich said nothing, yet remained thoughtful. "Besides," Dietfried continued, "If I comprehend anything about having a bound assistant, I know for the truth you must want to be near her, just once more before her memory is completely lost."
Dietfried said nothing more as they awaited the steward to return, assuring Petrich that the document had been secured safely onboard and they were ready to take up anchor.
Dietfried moved out of the driver's seat and Petrich slid behind the wheel to take the lorry back from where it was hired.
"Whatever you decide, boy." Dietfried said at the window, "I shall accept it and say no more."
"I've decided," Petrich replied, solemnly, "I want to go and get it sorted. . . And to see Nora again, just once."
"And do you plan a disguise?"
Petrich shook his head. "No. I am finished with hiding now. And as far as Nora goes, it will not make a difference anyway."
Dietfried flashed a sympathetic smile and nodded in agreement.
Petrich watched from behind the wheel of the lorry until The Lux pulled anchor and slowly sailed out of the port, his knuckles white from the grip of the steering wheel.