Fighting For Love

XXI - A Peasant and His Fugitive German Friend

I love the name of this chapter, btw.

Enjoy!

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Chapter XXI: A Peasant and His Fugitive German Friend

June 22nd 1940 - 21:00

Somewhere south of Paris, France

"I still can't believe we managed to get out of Paris." Otto said, after nine hours of me lying down on the pile of hay, feeling hungry and uncomfortable. "Who would've guessed that they would be so dumb, right? They didn't even bother to stop us."

"I think it is your smell that did not let them come close."

"Are you still complaining about it?"

"And I shall be until you have a bath or get rid of those clothes."

"Come on! If it hadn't been for these rags I'm wearing we wouldn't have gotten out of Paris in the first place."

I chuckled, "I am glad you agree you're wearing rags."

He snorted, "Oh, come now, pass me the map." I did it. "Now, where the hell are we?" After some time analyzing it, he reached a conclusion, "Aha! If we keep going this way, we should reach a city called Melun. I don't know how big it is, but there has got to be some place where we could stay the night in."

"I have never heard about it." I said.

"Me neither, but let's check it, shall we?"

I went back to my hay pile, gazing at the stars above. It's not like we have anything better to do, anyway.

My stomach rumbled loudly and I immediately felt weaker. I tried to think of something other than food, but it was nearly impossible. For the past nine hours, all Otto and I had eaten were apples, which was all I could grab in Paris, but the last one of those was eaten two hours ago, so I was already hungry enough that I could eat the very own hay I was lying on. Horses do it, so why can't I?

After some thirty minutes, I started noticing the landscape surrounding the road changing before my eyes. There were more houses and less farms, indicating what could possibly be a city. Soon, there was more lighting and Otto and I saw ourselves in an actual city. I claimed my seat next to him.

"Is this Melun?" I asked.

"According to the map... Keep your eyes out for anything that might look like a hotel or an inn, or anywhere we could stop really."

"That looks like a tavern." I said, after two minutes of looking around, "Right there." I pointed the two-story stone building that had a sign with a beer glass next to the door.

"A tavern? Did we travel in time or something?" Otto said as he approached the building. He stopped the wagon in front of it. "Stay here while I check the place."

"No way, I wanna stretch my legs, I am tired of sitting."

"You can't, you're going to speak German and we don't want that kind of attention here."

"What are you speaking? Latin?"

"Italian." He put his beret back on his head. "Don't leave the wagon." He said as he entered the building. I sighed and looked up. The smell of meat coming out of the tavern filled my nostrils and made me hungrier than ever.

I stared at my feet, at the sky, at the flowers on the sidewalk, trying to think of something else, but I could not. It was impossible to do it with that smell and, for a minute - a brief one, I assure you -, I wished I could smell those rags again, at least they didn't make me hungry.