He reach the area where he saw the man sitting in the middle of the lane. Suddenly, on impulse, he stopped the vehicle.
Then he did something he had never done in his life.
He looked toward the sky and prayed.
*________________________________*
“Such a difference from this morning,” Eason thought, as he and Percilla were chauffeured to the train station. The clouds swooped down from the north with feverish speed, dark, menacing, accompanied by increasing winds and a rather dramatic drop in barometric pressure.
Percilla sat by his side, with a calm demeanor, projecting a silent confidence. The soon to be inclement weather reminded him of that evening so few days ago, before the storm which had washed out the bridge, cancelled their plans for whisk and had changed there lives. Forever.
So many questions, so many loose ends, the quantity of such which surely would, had he concentrated on it, leave him in a state of dizzying panic.
Yet just by being in Percilla’s presence, observing the way she conducted herself through all this, gave him a somewhat queer yet comforting sense of well being and composure. If was if he was feeding off her, relying on her new found inner strength for solace and continence.
The rain had just to arrived on it’s downward journey to earth as they boarded the train and made their way to the sleeper car.
After securing his traveling case, Eason joined Percilla in the adjacent berth.
“Settled in?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said.
”Well,” he stated, “shall we visit the club car to pass the time”
“I would rather just stay here,” she answered, “But please, feel free to go if you would like.”
“Well then, would you like me to ring the Steward and have him bring some refreshments?”
“I am fine,” she indicated to him with a soft smile, ” though nice of you to ask.”
He sat beside her on the upholstered bench. In he seconds of silence that followed, what would have, in the past, been an awkward situation was replaced by a foreign yet welcomed feeling of congenial relaxation.
Eason was about to comment as such when there was a rapid knock, followed by the opening of the door.
“I say,” exclaimed a voice from outside, “do you mind if I come it?”
He was of average height, thin, dressed neatly in a gray three piece suit. He had a boyish face, light hair combed straight back and a pencil thin mustache over his upper lip.
“Frightfully decent of you to let me join you,” he said, as he sat down facing the pair. “Pettibone’s my name. Alfred Pettibone.”
I do get a tad nervous,” he continued, before they could respond. “Riding on trains and such. An inner ear problem, I suspect. A dreadful nuisance it is, but what can one do?”
“I say,”, he stated, nonstop, “did you notice how scant the passengers are? Why the club car is hardly half full. Not at all like during the war, when one had to fight tooth and nail for a passage.
And outside of us three, there is only an older couple on this car, two berths down. Frightfully nice they are, frightfully nice, however all they wishe to discuss are teapots!
Yes, that is correct, teapots! They are collectors, you see, and travelling to London they are to scour the antique shops to add to their collection.
Not that I have anything against teapots mind you, but it can get a bit tedious if that is all that is discussed, don’t you agree?”
Eason managed to get in a quick, “Well,” before Pettibone extended his thoughts.
“Now Mother, she rather likes to travel on trains. She says getting there is half of the enjoyment. I fearfully wish I had her constitution for such things, but alas, I do not.”
Before Eason or Percilla could respond, Pettibone interjected, “I do however, have a way of taking a bit of the edge off.” He reached in his coat pocket and produced a silver coloured flask.
“Excellent whiskey it is,” he said, thrusting the container to Eason. “My word as a gentleman. “Grateful if you would join me in a drop old Boy. Frightfully grateful.”
Eason saw that Pettibone had a coin pressed against the flask. It bore the etchings MDXXXLXXXIII and Devlesa araklam tume
Pettibone waited, arm outstretched.
He got no response from Eason, so he settled his glance on Percilla, who immediately pulled up her blouse sleeve to reveal her coin. He glanced back at Eason, who followed suit and produced out of his pocket his coin.
Pettibone, in a deft movement of his fingers flipped his coin to expose the Dragon. The pair, in unison, did the same.
After a long moment of silence, Pettibone spoke. This time in a low voice with a serious intent.
“There will be a man, a cabbie, that will meet you at the London station. He will utter the phrase, “Isn’t is a gorgeous day for a cruise.” Go with him.
Pettibone pocketed his coin and handed the flask to Eason. Eason uncapped the container, now grateful for the drink offer.
“This has been a bit of a rush for us,” Pettibone said, in a slightly more relaxed tone. “only had but a few hour notice. But we were expecting as such, so we will manage.”
“I do hope you will forgive me,” uttered Percilla, “But are you - what I mean to say is that you do not exactly look like -”
“Romany?” Pettibone smiled. “A bit. But completely dedicated, like my constituents, to the cause. A rather long story it is, on how I can to possess the bloodline. And a rather interesting one, but I am afraid my time with you is short. I must leave you at the next stop, which we are due to arrive in but a few minutes.”
Pettibone stood. Eason took a quick swallow from the flask, spun the top tight and attempted to hand it back. “You take it, old fellow,” Pettibone said, “I have a feeling you may need it.”
Then in a quick motion Pettibone opened the door. He gave a quick glance too see if the coast was clear. Satisfied that it was, he turned back.
“Two things I must stress to you two. One, use your coins only in response. Always wait for your contact to first produce his.”
A slight pause, then, “If your contacts are true, they will show their coin back-side out first. Please let me repeat. They will first show you their coin back-side out. If they are true.”
“May fortune be with you, my friends,” and before he departed, Pettibone added,
“Devlesa avilan”
Pettibone closed the door of the sleeper berth.
Eason, on impulse and emotion, followed him out. “Mister Pettibone?”
“Pettibone turned.” Yes sir?”
“I - please forgive me for asking this, for it may very well be stepping out of my station,”
Pettibone stepped closer. Eason continued. “I do wish to inquire of something.”
Eason took a deep breath. “I get the feeling that there is more to this than Percilla simply, - how shall I put this, - than an unlocking of true blood and a restoration of an order.”
Pettibone met his gaze and gave an almost imperceptible nod. “You are a fine fellow,” he said of Eason, and slapped the side Eason’s arm gently with an open hand. “Stay by her side. Protect her. She needs you.”
Pettibone then swiftly turned and left his presence.
This brief conversation, rather than satisfy his craving for information, only left Eason more wanting.
Such cloak and dagger! However at least, as he quickly recollected, that subtle nod had given him an a modicum of affirmation to one of his questions. Yes, there was more, much more going on that met the eye.
He turned back to the berth. Percilla, who though all this had remained remarkably calm. And it was with this, as he had repeated to himself many times during these recent hours, he would find strength to curb his wanton curiosity and up welling fear.
He recalled an old proverb: All things come to those who wait.
Well, he thought, that would be his motto. At least for the time being.
“Excuse me,” Eason said as he sat beside her in the sleeper berth.
“Eason,” she asked, in that newly found continence, “What do you think the reason for producing the coin first ‘back side out’?”
“That I can tell you,” Eason replied, grateful to contribute.
“Without specific instructions, one would have a natural tendency to show someone a coin face side first.”
“I see,” she replied, accompanied with a slight nod. “Thank you.”
As an added precaution against treachery , he thought, but he would keep that rather disturbing revelation to himself.
“Eason,” Percilla chimed, “What do you say we adjourn to the dining car.”
“Now that you mention it,” he said, his mood shifting quickly, “I am feeling a bit peckish.”
She moved close to him and took his hand in hers, not in a voluptuary way, but in a manner reminiscent of two comrades sharing a common goal.
The narrowness of the corridor prevented them from continuing this union, and after she released his hand he felt, through her - yes, that was it - that he discovered yet another unique feeling.
A feeling that he was needed.
* * * *
After a rather non descript meal of curry and mash, they retired to the sleeper berth.
Eason had procured a rather excellent bottle of claret from the Steward, and they finished off the day penciling crosswords.
Those last few hours before retiring were somewhat surrealistic in that despite their predicament the mood was light and gay, with word placement interluded by delightfully breezy conversation mixed with gentle back and forth bantering.
During a time when Percilla, who took the responsibility of filling in the letter squares, pondered a ten letter word for “brilliantly beautiful,” starting with R and ending with T, Eason mused that if nothing else this journey had made him realize an important item: that despite the transpiration of events in the past few days, the one thing that protruded foremost in his mind was not only the immense change in Percilla, but the atmosphere surrounding them being together. Though he steadfastly agreed to his new found personal agenda of which he would implement once this was seen through, he now would seek and maintain contact with her. For as he - and confident that she had amassed the same feelings - had realized by these neo-moments together, that a special bond had developed.
A bond of relaxing comfort while in each others presence.
A bond of true friendship.
* * * *
The London air was thick with fog and drizzle.
An aromatic presense, as thick as the present haze, and unique to the city, greeted Percilla and Eason as they stepped out from the train onto the station. Both ventured to each other the common belief that if one did not dwell on the origins of such emanating odors, you would get used to it within a time.
It took but a minute before contact was made.
“Excuse me, Sir,” said the cabby, suddenly appearing out of the mist, “But Isn’t is a gorgeous day for a cruise.” It was anything but, which confirmed the signal.
The tradesman motioned the pair to his hanson. After securing their luggage in the trunk, and opening doors for passenger entrance, he, without a word, affixed himself behind the drivers wheel.
The cabbie popped open the glove box and retrieved an envelope. He then directed it toward the back seat.
The coin, back-side out, was visible on the side of the envelope.
As per the newly discovered protocol, Percilla and Eason produced theirs.
The cabbie handed Eason the envelope, pocketed the coin, started the motor and drove off towards the docks.
Contained within the envelope were two boarding passes.
After a rather rapid drive through the crowded streets, they reached their destination.
“You have a bit of time,” the cabbie said as he unloaded their bags from the trunk of the vehicle. “There’s a tea shop just down the street where you can get a bite. It’s a bit worn ‘round the edges, she is, but the tea is hot, the ale’s strong, and they serve a good pork pie.”
Eason reached for his coin purse to pay the man. The cabbie waved it off.
“Devlesa avilan,” he said, then climbed into his cab and drove off.
Eason now thought it a good time to clear up a bit of the mystery.
“Percilla,” he said, after a quick glance to insure he was out of earshot from outsiders, “do you happen to know the meaning of these phrases?
“Why yes,” she answered, “yes I do. In fact,” she took his hand in a manner reminiscent of the way she did in the sleeper car. “I have been waiting for you to ask.”
“The phrase on the coin, ’Devlesa araklam tume,’ means, ‘It is with God that we found you’”
“What these men have said,” she continued, “Devlesa avilan . . .”
She moved closer.
And as her exotic eyes, full of meaning, met his, she whispered, . . .
“It is God who brought you.”
BTTT - gotta read when I get home!! :o)
"Not POSH, by any near means, but then, it feels like were flying from danger behind", Eason said lightly.
"Or maybe, flying towards danger," Percilla said. Her eyes began scanning the arrayed ships, then alighting on one, "There it is, I believe - the S.S. Cypriot, bound to Cherbourg before evening."
Eason checked his watch. "The cabbie was right, we have some time before boarding but I think we'd best be aboard, though. The dock might be watched. And what if another contact awaits aboard? It might be prudent to find our next meeting."
Percilla considered this, and said, "You're thinking ahead, my friend, but not behind. Recall what the driver said, about the tea-shop? I think that we are to meet yet another contact there."
After a moment, Eason conceded, "Perhaps you're right. And he did mention a menu - 'the tea is hot, the ale’s strong, and they serve a good pork pie.' Perhaps that's the next sign? Let's go and find out."
Percilla followed Eason's lead down the street, and there, just around one bend and as the cabbie had said, stood a tea-shop, tucked away partly down an alley. The weather-worn sign above the entry declared the place to be -
"The Water Dragon! And, Eason, look there!" Percilla pointed to the top of the sign, where faded but plain, there it was: the Dragon-symbol!
"Well, if nothing else, I shall take it as a marker, that this is a safe place to await the off." And the two walked to the door, and entered.
Their eyes adjusted to the gloom, and took in the interior of the place. Tables and chairs were scattered over the common room, with a few chairs resting near a hearth and good fire. Twin doors led, apparently, to the kitchens, as youths in soiled aprons bustled in and out, laden with trays piled high with food and drink.
Eason conducted Percilla to a booth near the window, and within a moment of seating themselves, were met by an older lady, whom Eason took as the proprietress.
"Good arfternoon, Good Sair, an' Madam", she drawled in a thick accent, "an' what might ye be havin' thess day, eh?"
Eason spoke first, "Madam, this establishment was recommended to us, by a local cab driver. He made it a point to mention your shop, and told us that, oh let's see now - 'the tea is hot, the ale is strong, and they serve a good pork pie.' Is that a fair assessment?"
As Eason quoted the cabbie, the proprietress's face hardly changed, but her eyes reacted. Quickly, they began darting two and fro, quickly taking in Eason and Percilla, then the clientelle, then the doors to the kitchens, then the entryway.
"Roight y'arre, Sair, an' thos're fair wairds, sure, from thet cabbie o'yours. Now, might I not be clearin' up th'table, a bit?" And before she finished speaking, she had bent over the table, brushing aside some invisible mess, but showing an ample busom to Eason - including a coin-shaped medallion in her cleavage.
"Ar, silly me, me jewelry always gettin' in th' way!" she slurred, taking the medallion in one hand. "A pretty thing, ain'tit, Sair, see how it shines so!" And she extended the medallion for Eason's examination - back-side first.
Percilla followed Eason's lead, in producing the now-familiar counter-sign.
The proprietress's demeanor changed not a bit, but straighenting up, she produced two bills of fare from the folds of her apron, and said simply, "Thair y'are, Sair an' Madam, an' if I moight recommend t'the good Lady, read yer bill closely, like?" And with a whirl, she left the table.
Percilla, dutifully looking down the bill, and after a minute, looked over the paper at Eason, here eyes flashing.
"It seems, Eason dear," Percilla said, handing the bill of fare to him, "we've been contacted further..."
http://www2.sjsu.edu/depts/english/2004.htm
Bulwer-Litton award winners, 2004. For inspiration and laughs.