Carol Of The Bells

Sweet Perfume

"Is that a book I see?" Garfield interrupted Richarde's train of thought.

The acrobat looked down from his perch. "Yes it is, my uneducated friend. I'm surprised you knew what it was!"

"But you can't read." The jokester scratched his head, the bells on his obtuse hat jingling.

"Correction, I couldn't read. But I am now at a fifth grade elementary reading level."

"How? Has Raven been teaching you?"

"No, Kori. When she found out I couldn't read, she was pretty upset. So she's been teaching me."

"Ah, so what are you reading?"

"An excerpt from the Canterbury tales. An Earl is going to have his daughter's head cut off because a Judge accused her of theft. But in reality, the judge wants to marry her and is going to have her work for him instead of going to jail, in an effort to get her to fall in love with him. But she's like twenty years younger then him. So her father's going to kill her to save her honor."

"Well, glad to know you're keeping up your cheerful disposition. Right Silkie?"

The cat ignored him and continued sleeping.

"Psh, animals. Have fun with your book."

Richarde's first reading lessons had been atrocious. Kori started him out by reading some passages from the Bible. It took him ten minutes of stuttering to get through a sentence. He knew his letters, but was lost on how exactly to string them together. His writing was even worse. He didn't even know how to hold a quill.

After months of hard work, he was finally able to get to the point were he could continue teaching himself on his own. Victor had been ecstatic when the boy read four of the psalms aloud, barely stuttering or stumbling.

The weather had been terrible the last few weeks. It was mid February and Paris was being completely dumped on. Of course this was dangerous for the folks who lived in the shacks. In an effort to keep their homes safe, they would take a long stick and swipe the snow from the roof so the weight didn't collapse it.

Unfortunately, our flexible friend had not paid attention to the accumulation on his dwelling. It was in the middle of a nasty storm when the shack decided it had enough.

He woke up from Silkie worming his way out from under the wool blanket and bounding off of his chest. The acrobat groaned and turned, but his eyes snapped open when he heard a loud crack. He had just enough time to bolt from his straw mattress on the floor before snow started pour through the roof. Within minutes, all of his meager possessions were buried.

"Great, just great!" He muttered, cold and groggy. His feline looked up at him and Richarde dropped the wool blanket for him. "Yeah, I didn't need it anyways..." He set out digging some of his stuff out, at least the valuable things that people would steal in the morning.

A little known fact about Mr. Serieux was his true wealth. From the outside, he looked like he was part of the poor peasantry. But in reality, he had enough money under his mattress to buy the church and more. The boy had a dream, and was saving and saving for it. There was only one thing that was missing from his plan.

Koriandre.

Richarde sneezed as he pulled the third ripe sack of coinage from the hole in the ground. "Geez, looking at it now, you'd think I was an earl." He set the bags next to the slumbering feline and hid them partially with the blanket.

After an hour or so, he collected all that he wanted in a bag. Two extra uniforms, a metal cooking pot, three bowls that belonged to his mother, and a package of smoked sausage he planned on eating for breakfast. By time he was done retrieving his mess, his form was trembling. His nose was red and sore from him wiping it so many times and his hands were numb. He crouched for a moment, his hands in his armpits and his teeth chattering.