An Experiment Gone Wrong

The Town's Tragedy

Erik's POV

I slump onto a chair, coughing as a sudden dust cloud surrounds me. The evening is getting colder, and I shiver. My clothes aren't keeping me warm whatsover. The grey sky outside makes me think of Peter.
"I was wondering if you knew what Peter meant by calling me 'Dad'."
Charles bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes her head.
"What? What is it, Charles?!"

"Who knows how long it will take for this to wear off?" She ignores me, but gives me a look of sudden concern. "Are you alright, Erik?"

"I'm freezing. It's like I dropped down three sizes. You should sell your concoction as a weight loss plan for men." I shiver.

She doesn't respond to my last comment, but I know she's considering it. "I need new clothes too...Just in case this doesn't wear off in a while."

"There's no money in the house." I stand up to pace around.

"Don't worry, old friend. I've brought plenty of my savings with me."

"Don't pay for me. I've survived worse." I rub the side of her arm, forcing a smile.

"Don't be ridiculous." Charles says, standing up.

"They're not Zlotych though, are they?"

"...We can exchange them at the bank, can't we?"

I sigh as Charles takes his wallet and shoves it in his pocket. "What if someone recognises me?"

"Erik...You're a woman for God's sake!"

It's hard to forget. "We'll go in the morning." I say. "All the shops will be shut by now."

Charles dusts off the radio, and twiddles the knob to get a signal. I can hear a song, faintly, and recognise it almost instantly. Before she is about to change the station, I put my hand out to stop her. "Wait!"
She lets go, and her expression fades from confusion to determination as she tries to listen. I reach over and turn a smaller gear, and the song's volume grows louder. "David Bowie? Really?"

I shrug with a smirk. "I can think of worse." I pause. "This is actually one of my favourite songs."

"Oh! You Pretty Things?" Charles sniggers.

"You know it, at least." I point out. Swaying a little, I move closer to her. "Dance with me."

She chuckles, shakes her head and turns away. "Don't be ridiculous, Erik."

"I'm not." I say. "It will help us get warmer."

Charles rolls his eyes, but a smile inches across his face as we rest on one another's shoulders. Something rushes through me, but it isn't the cold breeze. We sway together in an awkward embrace, and the pace gets slightly faster with the chorus. "Oh! You pretty things!" I sing along, suddenly grabbing the side of Charles' shoulder and the dipping him towards the floor. "Erik!" She exclaims, going bright red and her shock makes me laugh. I bring her back up and spin her around; doing all I can to make her feel embarrassed. We sing along to the rest of the song, and when it ends, we head to get some sleep.

In separate rooms, obviously. We're not a couple.

The morning comes, and Charles isn't in her room. I come downstairs to find her laying on the grass outside, staring at the sky.
"What are you doing, Charles?"

She sits up to face me. "Good morning to you, too."

"Morning." I reply reluctantly, and sit next to her.

"It's a sunny day, I thought I'd make the most of it."

"Hmm."

We stare at the clouds. Just like the stormy sky reminded me of Peter, the sunny, blue sky today reminds me of Charles. Her eyes are the same sort of blue when she's under pressure. Which is most of the time.

"Look! That cloud looks like a heart!" Charles exclaims, pointing at the fluffy white shape above us. I expect to see a love heart, but she actually meant a human heart. I don't why I expected that, though.

"And that one looks like my helmet." I say, pointing at a different shape at an angle from us.

"Oh...yeah." Charles comments. "That's strange."

"Breakfast?" I ask, pushing myself off the grass.

"...Full English." She smiles. "It's a good thing that's both of our favourites."

I echo her previous words, smirking. "Thank you for noticing."

We eat in a restaurant in town, and then head to the bank. Banks give me bad memories.
But not entirely bad.

Charles' POV

"Hello!" I say in a lively tone as we arrive at the desk. Then I realise we're in Poland.
"Erm...Do you speak English? Język angielski?"

"Nie." The man at the counter scowls, pressing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"Could you...?" I ask Erik.

"My pleasure, Charles." She takes a deep breath.
"Chcielibyśmy wymienić kilka funtów angielskich." I gaze at her in wonder, and she gives me a smug look.
I was never good at learning languages, but judging by Erik's mind that means;
'We would like to exchange some English pounds.'

"Ile pieniędzy?" The man asks. 'How much money?'

She looks to me. "How much?"

"One hundred." I say proudly.

Erik faces the man again, crossing her arms smartly. "Sto."

He types something on the keyboard. "Hmm...tak..." Then looking up at us, he says. "Nazwy?" Which I think means; 'Names?'

"Nazywam się Erik-Erika Woodpeck." She shrugs at me while the man peers back to the computer. "I to jest moja przyjaciółka, Cheryl Lloyds." I giggle at the random names. 'My name is Erik-Erika Woodpeck. And this is my friend, Cheryl Lloyds.'

The man slides a piece of paper under the glass barrier. "Zarejestruj się tutaj." I'm not sure what that means, but Erik signs the form, so I do the same, then give it back to him.

"Dziękuję, proszę pieniądze." He nods. 'Thank you, money please.'

I place the bundle of money on the thin slab of metal, and the man reaches underneath the glass and takes it, placing stacks of euros in return.
"Dziękuję Ci." Erik says, handing the money to me. We leave and walk to a clothes store just around the corner.

"That was incredible." I say.

"What was?"

"You!"

"Well, thank you."

Erik constantly searches the streets. "I would have thought that you knew Polish, Mrs Professor." She grins, looking back at me.

"I can understand some of it, but I've never really been a lingual person."

We arrive at the shop, and stand near a rack of dresses. "I've never chosen womens clothing before." Erik says, lifting up a coat hanger, causing a couple to stare at us curiously.

"Maybe you shouldn't say that out loud." I remark.

We move towards something more casual. Erik finds a pale blue top, a beige pencil skirt, tights, then waves her hand to take a metal coat-hanger off the rack that holds a darker blue jumper and grey scarf.

"Charlotte, what about these?"

I gasp and rushe over and hit her hand down, causing the clothes to drop on the floor. Almost everyone in the shop turns their attention to us, but as I put the clothes on the end of the rack, they all go about their buisness again. "Are you trying to get us killed?!"

"I'm sorry, Charl-Charlotte. I wasn't thinking." She sighs.

"Be more careful. Please. I don't particularly feel like being shot today." I take the clothes she picked out and fold them over my arm. "But yes, these will do perfectly, thank you."

I pass Erik a grey turtleneck top, a burgundy fake-leather jacket, a black coat and black jeans, which she grins at. "I'm surprised how well you know me, old friend."