Erik - Chapter 34

Erik had left me.  Holding my breath, I silently prayed Lord Jesus, don't let them find us!  Have mercy on us, O Lord!  Lead us to safety!  And for some reason, lines of Scripture came to mind-the first three lines from Psalm twenty-three and the line mine eyes gaze upon the hills from whence cometh my strength.  Somehow I was comforted by those thoughts and, in spite of my attempts to stay awake, I soon fell asleep, exhausted from over twenty-four hours of hiking the steep terrain of the Pyrenees.

 Just as noon approached, I awoke as I heard someone approach my hiding spot.  I moved closer to the shrub just as I heard a familiar voice call out softly, "Roberta?"

 "Oh, thank God!" I whispered to myself and then replied more loudly, "I'm over here Erik."

 In a few minutes, he came to where I was at and held out his left hand to help me out from under the shrub.  "I see you followed my orders.  Did you have any trouble getting here?" he asked as he helped me to emerge from my hiding place.

 I shook my head and said, "No, I saw a black helicopter just after you left and it was just above the horizon to the north, so I ran over to here as quickly as I could and stayed as close to the ground as I could until it left."
 He nodded and then said, "It's a good thing you did so-word has gotten out that you've escaped the clutches of President R.  I saw a wanted poster of you in the village post office where I went to change my francs, and I was also asked by the authorities if I had seen anyone matching your description.  It's been a long time since I've used any Spanish, but I was able to understand at least that much.  I'm sorry I took so long to get back, but I got some much needed supplies for us, but first things first..."  He stopped talking long enough to take a trowel and a pair of scissors from his backpack .  Seeing the look on my face, he added, "Since you are now a wanted woman, it's time to change your appearance.  The first change will be your hair--I'm afraid your long blond locks will have to go.  I want to cut your hair right here so we can bury the hair under the brush, and after your...haircut, we'll make the rest of the changes down by the lake."  And so, for the next several minutes, he snipped away at my hair, cutting it almost, but not quite as short as a man's military haircut.  Finally, after he finished, he said, "Now that that's done, we'll need to bury that hair.  We don't want any evidence to be seen, so we'll have to make sure that we've got all the strands together-I don't want any stray hair to be found anywhere so we'll have to bury the hair as deeply as we can.  I know it won't be easy using just the trowel, but the good news is we won't be disturbing the soil as much as we would if we used a shovel, and also the soil around here is sandy enough especially at this spot, that we shouldn't run into very many large rocks."

 We spent the next half an hour digging a hole by the shrub I had taken shelter under, trying to take care that we had a hole deep enough to bury the hair but also not too deep, so as to minimize any signs that we had disturbed the soil.  Finally, satisfied with the depth of the hole, Erik dropped in my hair, and then quickly covered the hole with the sandy soil, taking care to use the damp soil first and then the drier soil.  Then, taking a large aluminum bowl from his backpack, Erik tamped down the earth, and then smoothed the area over with the bottom of the bowl before scattering pebbles and small rocks over the top of his handiwork.  Then, after putting the bowl back into his pack, he handed the pack to me and asked me to carry it down to the lake, and after I took his pack, he broke off a branch from a nearby pine tree and brushed the earth behind us as we made our way back to the lake to brush away our footsteps, thus hiding our tracks.

 He broke the branch apart once we reached the lake, and after piling the branches into a small pile, he built a fire with the branches right on the sandy shore of the lake.  Then, after seeing that the fire would burn after all, he took out the aluminum bowl and asked me to fill it with water from the lake while he got more wood for the fire.  Puzzled, I did as he said and then, after filling the bowl nearly completely with the icy water from the lake, I then placed the bowl right next to the small fire.  Erik soon returned with his arms filled with short branches.  After putting most of them on the fire and watching it begin to burn more brightly, he said, "Go ahead and put the bowl right on the fire and let the water heat.  We're going to need some hot water for our next chore, but I need to get more wood to keep that water hot."  He left again, and then returned shortly with his arms full again with more dead branches.  Finally, after testing the water several times, he opened his backpack and took out a small plastic bag, and from that removed a small box.  Seeing the look on my face, he explained, "It's hair dye for men and, if my Spanish isn't too rusty, it's good for beards too.  And while you don't have a beard, you do have blond eyebrows."  Seeing the look of incredulity on my face, he then added, "Well, we have to have you look like Corporal Lopez somehow!"

 I glanced down and looked at the name tag on the right side on the front of the BDUS I was wearing, and asked, "So do you think the 'F' stands for Frances?"

 Shaking his head, he smiled and replied, "Somehow I doubt it, but in your case, I think it should stand for 'Fidelio'."

 "Fidelio?" I asked.

 Smiling, he replied, "Don't you remember your operas?  Leonore disguised herself as Fidelio so she could get her husband out of jail."

 Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "Well, I think you've done a pretty good job of disguising me."

 Testing the water yet once again, he replied, "Maybe, but I'm not done yet.  After we finish with your hair, there's one more thing to do.  Now, that the water's ready, I'll have to ask you to remove your shirt and undershirt and then wet your hair and eyebrows."  He then took the bowl off the fire with his gloved hands and placed it in the sand a couple of meters away from the fire, and a little closer to the lake.  He then removed his gloves while I knelt down and tried to place the top of my head into the bowl and got as much of my hair wet as possible while Erik opened the box of hair dye and took out the bottles of shampoo and hair dye that were in it.  He then placed the empty box back into the plastic bag, and after soaping up my hair, he had me lean forward and then rinsed my hair with the now warmed water.  Satisfied that he had completely rinsed my hair, he then applied the black dye to my hair and carefully applied the dye to my eyebrows as well.  While waiting for the dye to take, he went over to his backpack and retrieved a towel, and then wiped off my neck and shoulders.  "I'm sorry we have to do this out in the open in cool weather like this and that you'll have to walk around with a wet head but while we're waiting for your hair to dry, we can finish the rest of your disguise.  Turn around with your back to me and take off your bra," he said, motioning for me to do as he asked.

 "Why?" I asked, incredulous to his order.

 "Now, don't get excited!  We need to tape your breasts so that you'll look more like a male corporal than a female corporal.  With wanted posters of you up already, probably in every village on both sides of the Pyrenees by now, we'll have to do everything we can to get you past the authorities, and that includes disguises and going cross-country if we have to.  I'm pleased to see that you've lost even more centimeters in the last three months, which makes our job of disguising you a little easier.  Now, keep your back turned to me while I put this tape on, and let me know if I've wound it too tightly," Erik replied as he got yet another package from his backpack and from it pulled out a roll of elastic orthopedic  tape.  He then put his arms around me from behind and then wrapped my breasts tightly with the tape.  Finally, as he finished wrapping the tape and then secured it with a safety pin, he asked, "Too tight?"

 "No," I answered, trying to get used to the sensation of my breasts being bound.  Then, I asked, "Why are you doing this for me, Erik?  Three months ago, I thought..."

 "That I was going to kill you?" he finished for me and then added, in a business-like tone of voice, "You can put your undershirt and shirt back on now, Corporal Fidelio, but let your hair dry more before you put your cap on.  Before you get dressed, put this make-up on your neck and face.  It will make your skin color more compatible with the black hair than your natural skin color."  He then handed me yet another item from his backpack as he added, "Let's just say that I have to make amends to you and that's why I'm doing all of this.  Besides, I once told you that I would always be your guardian angel.  Now, while you finish putting on your make-up and finish getting dressed, I'll put out the fire and I suggest that we get going."  While I was putting on the make-up and getting dressed, he put out the fire using the bowl of water which had turned black from the hair dye, and then after filling the bowl twice more with clear water from the lake, he made sure that the fire was completely out before we left.

 I watched him do all this out of the corner of my eye while I dressed, and finally, I asked, "So, where to now?"
 After he finished putting out the fire, he put all our trash and the bowl back into his backpack and replied, "We'll head north, following the shoreline of this lake, and after we get to the north end of it, we'll go cross-country as far west as we can before it gets dark.  And, as for tomorrow, we'll keep going westward, but I'd like to stay in the mountains as much as possible.  I know it'll be rough going, but it's the only way we can avoid being seen.  Besides, our pursuers will find the going rough as well."

 "Think they'll find us?" I asked nervously, still remembering the helicopter from the previous night.
 Erik shrugged his shoulders as he picked up his backpack.  After a moment of silence, he replied, "I don't know-it depends on what kind of equipment they have and it also depends on the Spanish government.  From what I understand, your president had to go to a lot of trouble to get the French authorities to cooperate with her.  The Spanish government has enough trouble with the Basque terrorists, and right now, the last thing the Spaniards need is more terrorism, and believe me, with all those black helicopters in the sky, the Basque nationalists will think those helicopters belong to the Spanish authorities, and they'll just take their wrath out on any Spaniard they come across, and that's something the Spanish authorities don't want!  No, I don't think the Spanish will help out your American president.  Besides, the Spanish crown still remembers the Abraham Lincoln Brigade that 'helped' the Spanish republican forces during the Spanish Civil War, and there's still some bad blood between the Spanish crown and America.  The only trouble with my thesis is that your American president is just as likely to ignore Spanish protests as she is to give in to Spanish public sentiment.  So, it all depends...in the meantime, I suggest that we get going over to the footpath and take it to the north end of the lake."  With that, he put on his backpack and we quickly made our way to the footpath and from there, went north and after we passed the lake, we then went westward for several kilometers before it got dark.  Finally, realizing that we had gone as far as we could for the day, Erik led us to a wooded area in a large mountain valley, and then indicated that we would be spending the night out in the open just as we had the previous night.

 Leading me more deeply into the woods, he finally found an area which was shielded from the road by oak and pine trees.  Exhausted when we finally stopped, I managed to ask, "Think this will do?"

 In the dim light of the setting sun, I saw Erik nod and heard him say, "I think so, but keep in mind that we're not very far from the French border and will have to keep a low profile.  That's why we need to rest here rather than in the nearby village.  I'm sorry that we won't be able to light a fire and will have to keep warm for the night with my sleeping bag.  You needn't worry about me getting fresh because I assure you that I'm probably just as tired as you.  I'd advise you to get as much rest as you can because we have a long trip ahead of us tomorrow as well."
 "Where exactly are we going?" I asked as I sat under the tree where Erik indicated and then leaned back.
 "Sanctuary, I hope!" Erik replied as he unzipped his sleeping bag and spread it over me.  He then sat down next to me and covered himself with his part of the sleeping bag that we would share for the night.  We then both slept until dawn broke.

 The pale sun of late autumn found me still sleeping, exhausted after two days of hiking over rough terrain.  I stirred only a little as Erik nudged me awake.  "My dear, much as I would like to let you sleep, we still have a long way to go, so you must get up," he said gently, as my eyes opened and adjusted to the growing sunlight.
 Finally, remembering where I was, I sat up a little straighter and then asked, "How much further do we need to go?"

 "Quite a bit, I'm afraid.  And to make matters worse, we will have to make our way across the northern part of the country by going cross-country," he answered as he unlaced and then removed his boots.  Seeing the look on my face, he added, "Just examining my feet to make sure I don't have any blisters from all the hiking we've done.  I haven't had a chance to do this nor to change my socks for the last couple of days, so I'm taking some time to do it now.  Another thing we need to do is to eat something.  I haven't checked my blood sugar level yet but I'm sure it's pretty low.  Go ahead and open the side pocket of my backpack, and you should find some cheese and some apples in there.  I know it's not much but I'm sure that it's more than what you used to live on.  Tell me, what did you eat while you hid away in that hovel of yours?" he asked and then added, "I also filled the canteens already, making sure that I put water purification tablets into them before I filled them with water from the stream just west of here-the same stream that we'll have to cross as we go on our way.  In fact, I'm not so sure it wouldn't be a bad idea to wade downstream through it for a bit before we continue westward.  If our pursuers have any tracking dogs on our trail, it would throw off the scent.  I know that wading in ice-cold water in this hour probably doesn't appeal to you right now but it might be a good idea."

 "Do they have dogs on our trail?  How do you know your blood sugar is low, and do you feel up to doing all of this?" I asked, suddenly alarmed at the prospect of being hounded by dogs or even worse, what I would do if Erik suddenly collapsed before we could get to safety.  I also did not respond to his question of what I had lived on, for I had been quite satisfied with living on oatmeal and pancakes made without eggs and cooking my meals outside on an open fire, using my aluminum bowl as a cooking pot, although I found myself grateful to Erik for providing us both with the fruit he had in his backpack, for I  had not eaten any fresh fruit in months!

 "I don't know if they have dogs or not, but it wouldn't surprise me any, and as for my blood sugar level, when you've suffered with diabetes for as long as I have, you recognize the signs-fatigue, more mood swings than usual, and just a general feeling of ill-defined illness," he answered as he put his boots on and then took out his map and began to study it.

 I handed him an apple and some cheese from his backpack and as I began to eat an apple as well, I asked, "So where are we going?  Zaragoza?  Pamplona?  Bilbao?"

 He shook his head and replied, "None of the above-Zaragoza is too far south and besides, we need to avoid being seen as much as possible, so that means avoiding the cities and even the villages as much as possible.  My dear, I'm afraid this trip will be quite difficult at times because it means we'll have to zigzag our way through the countryside.  I want us to stay in the mountains as much as possible so that we can get into cover quickly if we need to, which means we may take a little longer to reach our destination, but if we hurry, we can make good time before it gets dark tonight."  He began to eat his apple, and after he finished both the apple and the cheese I had handed him, he added, "That's exactly what I needed.  I'm feeling better already and now that you're finished eating as well, I suggest we get going.  Don't forget to put the apple cores back in the pocket of my backpack.  I don't want to leave any evidence of our presence behind."

 Erik had been right about the trip being difficult, especially the first few hours of our trip that day.  The day was cold and walking around in wet feet after wading downstream made the trip even more miserable, for me anyway.  But Erik plugged on, seeming oblivious to the hardships of the trip.  Finally, at the end of that day, he studied the map in the fading sunset, and satisfied that we had indeed made good time and realizing that we were just outside the city of Pamplona, he had us bed down for the night in yet another set of woods in the mountains just north-east of the city and just north of the plain of Navarre.  As he took off his boots and changed into a clean and dry pair of socks, I asked, "So where are we headed?"

 He then put his boots back on and then, as he covered me with the unzipped sleeping bag, he answered, "Burgos...and sanctuary, I hope!  It's an old cathedral city, and I understand the bishop of Burgos has offered sanctuary to refugees fleeing the American president's wrath.  Did you know that Spain has a large number of American expatriates?"  I shook my head sleepily, and he added, "Nor did I, and I understand that Spain is allowing some expatriates to come in from Germany as well!"

 "Who would have thought?" I exclaimed softly.

 Erik chuckled a little as he sat down beside me and covered himself with his part of the sleeping bag, and then added, "And evidently, the Spanish feel that your orator Mr. B. doesn't necessarily represent the majority of American dissidents.  It's nice to know that some countries haven't lost their sense of charity!  Anyway, we have a long way to go tomorrow so get your rest, my dear."

 Erik woke me up the next morning and after a quick breakfast of water and the last of the apples, he had in his backpack, we started out again, circling south of Pamplona, and while we took the road going southwest of the city, we circled around each village, going through wooded areas as well as empty fields when necessary before circling north of the city of Logrono, and then resuming our southwesterly direction until we reached the city of Burgos, just as the sun was setting.

 Erik had been correct about American expatriates, for I soon found myself hearing English being spoken with a variety of American accents.  In fact, the one evening we had in Burgos, I heard more American English being spoken in that city than I heard Spanish!  After threading our way through the narrow city streets, we came to the great cathedral itself.  I asked Erik if we could go inside so I could pray, and although he was reluctant at first, we entered the immense cathedral, where after locating the Blessed Sacrament in a chapel to the side of the nave, I knelt down to pray as Erik sought out the Franciscan priest that was just leaving the cathedral as we were entering.

 Just as I finished my prayers in thanksgiving for reaching Burgos safely, Erik slipped into pew beside me and whispered, "I have bad news, I'm afraid.  We can only spend the night in Burgos, and we'll have to leave no later than tomorrow morning."

 I turned to him and asked, "Why?", incredulous that we had come so far and went through so much, all for nothing.

 "Burgos has taken in all the refugees that it can handle right now, and the rest are being sent to Avila," he replied softly, sounding just as disappointed as I.

 "So, we'll find refuge in Avila?" I asked, not really looking forward to yet another day's journey.

 He shook his head and replied, "I don't know.  Avila is much smaller than Burgos, and you saw how many Americans there are in the city!  The priest said that there's a bus the bishop has chartered to take the rest of the refugees down to Avila, and he suggested we take it.  It leaves the city at seven, so I suggest we find a place for the night, and be here at the cathedral by six tomorrow morning in order to catch the bus."

 I sighed and then rose from the bare wooden kneeler, not looking forward to yet another day on the road.  "So, where are we going to spend the night?" I asked softly, as we left the cathedral.

 "The priest recommended the hostel run by the Carmelite nuns.  It's not far from here, and they'll even take in soldiers like us!" Erik replied.  I smiled, for I had forgotten that we were still dressed in BDUS.

 "Think they'll have separate rooms for us?" I asked as we walked along the cobbled streets of the old part of the city.

 He shook his head and said, "Probably not with all of these refugees.  No, we'll probably have to share a room.  Now, don't look at me in that tone of voice!  If I had wanted to take advantage of you, I would have done so by now!  Besides, neither one of us is in any shape for any hanky-panky, if you know what I mean!"  I smiled, for I knew he was right.  I, for one, was looking forward to a hot shower and a soft, single bed.  A few minutes later, Erik added, "Oh, here we are already, so just let me do the talking."

 It had been almost five months since I had last slept in a real bed, so I found the sensation of doing so quite strange.  In fact, had I not taken a long, hot shower before retiring, I rather doubt that I would have slept at all that night.  It was not like Erik failed to behave as a gentleman.  On the contrary, he kept his word and stayed in his own bed, and indeed, slept far more soundly than I think he had in a long time.  I, on the other hand, slept only intermittently, waking up several times from nightmares, all of which were variations of the same theme-that I would end up in a gulag somewhere back in the States.

 Finally, just as I was going back to sleep after having yet another nightmare, I heard Erik get up and then walk over to my cot and wake me.  "My dear, it's nearly six and we have a long day ahead of us," he said softly as he nudged me awake.

 I groaned as I crawled out of bed.  "I suppose it's a good thing we slept in our BDUS after all," I muttered as I rose from the cot and stretched as much as my bound breasts would allow.

 "Did you not sleep well, my dear?  I'm sorry that we won't be able to change into more civilian-looking clothes for the time being.  Is that why you didn't sleep well?" he asked as he took off his boots and began to check his feet for blisters.

 I shook my head and said, "No, it's not the dirty uniform that kept me awake last night.  I guess I'm just worried-I wonder if we'll ever find sanctuary!"

 Erik looked up from where he was seated on his bed and smiled.  "I noticed that you said the word 'we'-does that mean that I'm forgiven for my...past behavior?" he asked, and then finished putting his boots on.

 I did not immediately answer him, for to tell the truth, I was unsure of an answer.  This was the man who had given me free voice lessons for months, and yet had tried to kill me because I had learned of his secret past.  But, on the other hand, he was now risking his life to save mine.  Finally, I said, "Yes, you are forgiven, but I'm afraid that your behavior isn't forgotten.  You still have some 'splainin' to do-for example, why did you lie to me about your defection to the west?"

 Erik smiled ruefully as he rose from his seat on the bed.  Then, he answered, "One reason I suppose was because I know you're anti-Communist, and another reason was because I doubted that you would consent to receive voice lessons from a bullying has-been who is also an ex-junkie and who broke his own mother's heart, causing her to die prematurely!  Besides, you have to admit my story sounded better than the simple truth!"

 "But it was a lie!  You never had to avoid the Italian navy or the Yugoslavian armed forces-you and your parents just went on permanent vacation from Yugoslavia!" I protested.

 A shadow of anger briefly crossed Erik's face and after a moment of silence, he said quietly, "You're probably right my dear.  I was wrong to play with the truth.  Now, I suggest we get over to the cathedral or we'll miss our bus."  I nodded in agreement and we then left the hostel after Erik paid our Carmelite hosts their nominal lodging fee.

 When we arrived at the cathedral, we saw a long line of people that had already formed on the front steps of the huge gothic cathedral.  I inwardly groaned, for I was even more uncertain than ever of our chances of finding sanctuary at Avila.  Nevertheless, we went to the end of the line and secured our place.  After a short while, Erik whispered to me, "Hold our place for us-I need to go to the privy to take my insulin."  I nodded and then watched him go to the direction of the public WC.

 After he left, still more people got into the line behind me, and as I stood in the line, the middle-aged man in front of me turned around to me and asked, in a New York accent, "I noticed your friend with you-what's with the mask?  He doesn't look like a burn victim to me!"

 Remembering what Erik looked like when he was unmasked, I only shook my head and replied, "He needs to wear his mask, believe me!  You really don't want to see him without it!"

 "If you say so, lady!" he replied, with a note of incredulity in his voice.  Then, he added, "So, where are you from?"

 "Missouri, originally...but I consider Colorado to be home.  And you're from New Your City," I replied, that last words being a statement rather than a question.  Then, I added, "So what do you think of your former senator now that she's president?"

 "Lady, if I had known she was going to do this, I would have switched parties and voted for her opponent just like my wife did, and advised me to do too!  And here, we all thought President R's predecessor was bad because he stole the election from his opponent, with the help of the Supreme Court and then couldn't do a damn thing once he was president because of the divided Congress that he had!  Good God! I never thought it could get worse under her but was I ever wrong!  Well, like they say-there's no fool like an old fool, and I guess I'm one!" he replied ruefully.

 Under different circumstances, I would have spoken up to defend the previous president from the charges that he stole the election with the help of the Supreme Court, and it was all I could do to refrain from reminding the man in front of me that the Florida Supreme Court gave the Federal Supreme Court no choice but to intervene in the previous election, thus starting a new legal precedence, but then decided to hold my tongue for it was obvious that the man in front of me felt enough remorse as it was.

 Just then, Erik returned from the WC, only this time, not only was he wearing a light blue chambray work shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, but he was not wearing a mask of any kind.  Seeing the look on my face, he whispered, "I thought I would actually look less conspicuous with a prosthesis and make-up to hide its lines and most of the bruises as well, though I still look like I've recently been in a bar room brawl!  I also packed some civilian clothes in your backpack for you, so now it's your turn to go to the WC-and make sure you relieve yourself while you're there!  I don't know how long this bus trip will take, but my guess is that it'll take several hours!"  I nodded, and after reaching the WC, I relieved myself and then changed into the cotton pine green gathered skirt and white long-sleeved man's shirt Erik had packed in my backpack along with a blue cardigan sweater I had managed to grab before Erik and I were forced to flee from my abode in the Pyrenees.  In spite of the sweater, I shivered as I stuffed the BDUS and boots back into my backpack, and then hurried back to the line, perhaps as much in anxiety as the cold early morning weather.

 I reached the line and the spot where Erik stood just as the bus pulled up and began to board passengers.  It was fortunate that I got to the line when I did, for Erik and I were among the last of the passengers to be allowed to board the bus that left that morning, the rest of the passengers in line at the cathedral being forced to wait for the next bus which would not leave until the next day!  Since we were among the last to board, we found ourselves sitting in the long seat just behind the driver, and just as we sat down, an English speaking Franciscan priest boarded the bus as well, and announced that he was to be our guide to the city of Saint Teresa, and expressed his hope that we would all be granted sanctuary by the city and Church authorities.