The Music Box: Chapter Eighteen

Isabelle wrung the reddish-pink water from the wad of shirt and soaked it again. As she washed Percival’s chest, she felt the tickle of his watching eyes on her scalp. Her cheeks burning, she kept her head down, studiously avoiding his face. But after wiping the same place three or four times she knew she must look up. As she did, she regretted it instantly for she saw in Percival’s eyes an irresistible mix of kindness, warmth and gratitude. She had wanted to leave before he had his wits about him, thinking it would be easier, but she saw he was quite aware of what was happening.

“What is your name?”

No, this would not do at all. Percival must go back to his uncomplicated life; she must leave and find one of her own making. The less he knew the better.

“Can you speak? Do you understand what I am saying?”

She avoided his eye and his questions, dabbing with the soggy rag at his shoulder. But Percival caught her wrist and made her stop fidgeting.

“I know who you are,” he said, slowly and clearly, something in what they had gone through allowing him to somehow bypass his natural shyness. “You’re the girl who has been living in the forest. I’d been beginning to think you were a myth simply to scare the children,” he added.

“I was looking for you. I had to see you for myself, find out who you were and why you were there.” He paused, looking closely to see if she was following what he was saying. Isabelle still said nothing.

“I went looking for you tonight. I went so far in that I was terribly lost. That’s when....”

His eyes darkened as the memory of his discovery and apprehension by Aloysius returned. It pained Isabelle greatly to see the fear back in his face, to see him look around suddenly over his shoulder, back in the direction of the woods. She raised a finger to his lips and pressed it against them, shushing him.

Just then the sound of a door closing heavily brought them back to where they were. Percival gave an involuntary shiver and Isabelle realised he had better get inside quickly before the chill set in.

She gestured towards the inn and waved her fingers to indicate he must go.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” he said.

“How did you know where to find me? How did we get away?”

“You must go,” Isabelle blurted, catching herself too late.

“So you do speak! I thought so; I knew you could tell what I was saying. No, I won’t go until you tell me what happened tonight.”

Isabelle didn’t want to think about what had happened; she just wanted to get out of there. She was having a hard enough time tearing herself away as it was, and here he was making it so much harder.

“I, I don’t know,” she stammered, with an element of truth, for it had not really sunk in yet.

“Well, that’s okay, we can talk about it later,” Percival relented, realising he was suddenly feeling very tired.

“No, I must go tonight, now,” Isabelle said. “Trust me, you don’t need to know, just go back to your home, back to your family, forget about the woods and forget about tonight.”

And forget about me, Isabelle thought, but it caught in her throat and dislodged another tear from her already brimming eyes, sending it coursing over her smooth cheek and down to the corner of her lips. Its naked salty truth stirred something in her that took her back to the sea, back to the moment where this had all begun.

Percival watched it trickle and realised he was still holding this mysterious girl’s wrist, the girl who had saved his life. A swelling in his chest told him that this was one of those rare moments that may only happen once in somebody’s life – if at all – and that he must not let it slip.

“Please tell me your name,” he began, “I must at least know who saved me. It’s only fair don’t you think?”

“It is Isabelle,” she relented, “my name is Isabelle.”

“Well it is a pleasure to meet you Isabelle. My name is Percival, although most call me Percy.”

“I know,” she blurted, not realising until she saw the quizzical look in his eye that she wasn’t supposed to know his name. But before he could say anything, she went on.

“I’ve been living in the forest after losing my home and my family. But, after what happened tonight, I cannot stay any longer. I must move on and find myself a new home.”

“Stay here,” Percival said. “You could stay at the inn, I will talk to my parents and arrange for you to have a room.”

No! I cannot, I must go; it’s not safe to say.”

“But where will you go?”

“I will go on until I find the right place, I will know it when I am there.”

“Then I shall go with you.”

“You can’t,” Isabelle cried, hating how hard he was making this.

“You have your family, you work, a good life ahead of you here.”

“This? This is no life. I have nothing here that is holding me here, and now that I have met you, once you go I will have even less, for I will know what I have lost.”

His hand had moved from her wrist to take her hand. This last remark he had made while squeezing it tightly, leaving no mistake that he meant what he said.

Isabelle was torn. She was worn out from fighting against him, struggling against her real feelings. She could not bear the guilt of having disrupted his life this way, but knew there was a truth in what he was saying. If he felt anything like she did - and she thought back to all those nights he had gone into the forest in search of her – then he would never be able to forgive himself if he let her go. But go she must.

“But what about your mother, your father?”

“They will get by. They have their life, when is the turn for mine? I cannot stay simply for them; how long can I continue doing what other people expect of me? I finally want something so badly I will die rather than have it taken from me. It is only right that I be allowed to follow my own wishes for once.”

Isabelle’s icy resolve was thawing, melting under his persuasive urgency. She had never been talked about this way and it gave her a sickening but not unpleasant sensation that she was secretly enjoying, despite her bewilderment at the situation in which she found herself.

Looking into his eyes, their green depths shimmering in the reflected starlight, she saw the miniature reflection of herself. Percival was by her side.

“I am leaving tonight,” she said.

“I am leaving with you,” Percival answered gravely, the final word on the matter.