NO TRESPASSING – COMMUNITY SERVICE (5)
‘Le moment supreme!’
“Grab the straps with your fists!” the festival director ordered Patty and Carry.
“But..why?”
“Do it Patty!” Carry said.
Carry had got the message. One of the men grabbed her legs and took the wooden box from under her feet. Carry hung with her full weight to the straps.
“Carryyyy!” Patty shouted when it was her turn. Both hung writhing to their cross, vainly trampling their feet, seeking support. The only relief they got by pulling by their fists to the straps, soon stressed their arms and their fists. They had to do serious effort to keep themselves pulled up, otherwise, they immediately felt a pressure on their breathing. They soon sweated profusely.
The crowd enjoyed it. The bells of the church rang joyful, the band enthusiastically played ‘Sambre et Meuse’, the men of the shooter’s guild fired three salute shots with their Napoleontic muzzleloader guns, each time with a thundering noise and spreading white clouds of gunpowder over the place. The people moved in circles around the scaffold, in order to watch the scene from all sides. Then the scene evolved into a dancing feast in front of the scaffold.
“Carryi I cannot take this no longer!”
“It.. just.. has to be a little realistic, Patty!”
“Damn you, Carry! What else are they going to do with us?”
***
“What a day!”
“You can say that, Carry! Damn! My arms are wrecked!”
Sunday evening. Patty and Carry were in the police office, after their ‘performance’ of Saint Corduliana and Saint Cordulina, patron saints of the local church of Montavelin. Outside, the kermesse was still going on. The sound of the attractions of the funfair was very close, as was the noise of the partygoers on the streets. The Garde Champêtre was doing some paperwork, while Patty and Carry had been locked up in a cell. As a matter of security, rather than for punishment.
Patty and Carry had been left hanging for about thirty minutes. Then they had been released. The people of Montavelin would not have done them real harm, even not under influence of peket and Saison, as they feared they would have invoked the wrath of their patrons, Saint Corduliana and Saint Cordulina.
When Patty and carry had finally been released, they got a blanket to cover their body. The Garde Champêtre brought them back to his office. Underway, they were awaited by an immense applause. Clearly, the people of Montavelin had appreciated their reenacting. They got a shower and got dressed. Although they had done enough community service for the day, they were supposed to stay until the end of their sentence, 8 a.m. Monday morning.
“Have you heard, about the legend of Corduliana and Cordulina?”
“I have been told that they were killed during a persecution for being Christians.”
“But do you know the clue, Patty?”
“No, tell me?”
“Corduliana and Cordulina were two wealthy widows, who had a domain. Their farm did well, and although they lived pious and chaste and they gave a lot to the poor, the other landlords were jealous. One of them threatened Corduliana and Cordulina he would denounce them as Christians to the authorities, if they would not share the bed with him and his bachelor son. Of course our chaste, pious ladies refused. They were dragged from property to property, flogged at each property and finally crucified on the hill where now Montavelin is.”
“Wait a minute, Carry! If I heard it good, they have cheated here, right!?”
“Indeed, they did! Nevertheless, their fear for divine wrath is real! God punished the area with a yearly returning rainstorm, that swept all the crops from the fields just before the harvesting season would begin! And the landlord and his son saw the access to their land mysteriously blocked by big stones any time they wanted to enter it!”
“Very convenient! The Garde Champêtre of that time must have been a busy man!”
“In fact, Saint Corduliana and Saint Cordulina have never existed. Their legend had sprung from local tales, centuries ago. But in the 1960’s, scholars in the Vatican had reviewed the list of saints, and they had concluded that many of them were purely fictional. Together with tens of other saints, Corduliana and Cordulina had been deleted from the official list, and from the saints calendar, to the disappointment of the people of Montavelin, who had continued their veneration. This procession, with ‘real’ saints, was felt as a sort of rehabilitation of their beloved Saint Corduliana and Saint Cordulina.
“Patty, give me the peket, will you?”
It was after midnight now. The funfair had closed, but on the street, the feast went on. The influence of peket and Saison was clearly audible. Suddenly, they heard thumping above their head. Footsteps! Someone was walking on the roof. Outside, a little crowd seemed to have gathered. There was laughing and cheering and singing. Again, there were footsteps on the roof. There was more cheering and knocking on the door and on the stores. Once more someone walked over the roof.
“Sept cin milliard de sept cin milliard…!” Cursing, the Garde Champêtre went to the door.
“That is enough! Dispersez!” meanwhile, someone ran over the roof. “And get off my roof, you idiot!”
“Champêtre, having fun with those chicks?” the voice sounded alarmingly ‘under influence’.
“Champêtre, why don’t you share them with us?”
“Ta gueule! Shut up! Va-t-en! Get away!”
He closed the door. For a moment, it became quieter, but then, some of them returned, and a few minutes later, there were again footsteps on the roof. For Patty and Carry, it was clear that the building smelled like ‘lone women inside’.
The Garde Champêtre opened the door again, this time taking his double barrel gun with him. After a short argument, there was suddenly a shot, giving Patty and Carry a fright.
“Don’t worry,” he said when he entered, “blank shot!”
After the incident, it became quiet again. No one dared to approach the building anymore. Patty and Carry felt relieved.
“After all, that Garde Champêtre isn’t that bad!” Carry said. “He has protected us the whole day!”
“Right! Carry, is there some peket in that bottle left!?”
***
“Fât' pêtard ! D'vas li faye et goyî comm' ein' tute!”
“What do you say now!?”
“I’ll wring his neck, the bastard!”
“Whom!? Oh, right, that Garde Champêtre!”
What had happened? Well, actually, the Garde Champêtre from Montavelin had ‘cheated’ a little. Saturday afternoon, on the bridge over the railway, he had proposed Patty and Carry to drop their infractions they had committed on the railroad, if they would accept guilt for the other ones. Patty and Carry, still in shock by the terrible fate they just had escaped, had agreed without considering further.
In fact, the Garde Champêtre had no case for what they had done on the railroad, since that part of the trajectory was on the territory of the municipality of Valdaulnes. It was outside his jurisdiction . But as a qualified policeman, he still had the authority to establish formally the facts, and to hand them over to his colleague in Valdaulnes. His protocol about the facts was ex officio conclusive evidence.
At 8 a.m. Monday morning, the Garde Champêtre told Patty and Carry they were to be released. But according to procedure, he would have to bring them to the border of his jurisdiction. Still carrying Patty’s confiscated camera, he ordered the women to follow them in their little blue car. At the border between Montavelin and Valdaulnes, he released them, but they were immediately taken in custody by the Garde Champêtre from Valdaulnes, for the facts committed on the railroad. He took over the confiscation of Patty’s camera and ordered them to follow him. At the police office of Valdaulnes, Patty and Carry were proposed a plea bargain for trespassing the railroad, dropping the accusation of public obscenities. Entirely confused of what was going on, they accepted. The local judge condemned them to community service in Valdaulnes, until 8 a.m. Tuesday morning.
Montavelin holds its feast for Saint Corduliana and Saint Cordulina on the fourth Sunday of May. Valdaulnes has its own folkloric event, culminating on Whit Monday. That year, the forth Sunday of May was also Whit Sunday, so the festivals took place in the same weekend.
Montavelin and Valdaulnes had a tradition of rivalry. Since long, they both wanted their festival with real reenactors in realistic conditions. Thanks to Patty and Carry, Montavelin had its ‘first’ with their real saints. But now that Montavelin had beaten its rival, they had no problem passing their reenactors to Valdaulnes. After all, besides rivalry, there was also the sense for cooperation as both municipalities had to work together to keep up the prosperity of their common farming community.
Carry’s wrists were chained behind her back to a stake. A chain was fixed to the stake under her armpits. Another one around her waist. Another one around her ankles. The same for Patty. Both had been stripped naked before being tied to the stake. Their whipmarks from the previous day were very convenient for the occasion.
Around the year 1530, two witches had been burned at the stake in Valdaulnes. The event is remembered by a yearly folkloric Witch Burning Festival. This year, Valdaulnes had real reenactors.
The judge, in Middle Age dress, read the verdict from a fake parchment, with a fake red seal on it. His double tongue betrayed peket. Or Cuvée de Valdaulnes. Or both!
The bourgmestre, clearly under influence too, made a nonsense speech about how great and how fantastic Valdaulnes and its people were. Despite the nonsense, he got the people on his hand. The two ‘condemned witches’ got some beer to drink.
“Carry!?” Patty said, while Cuvée de Valdaulnes was dripping from her chin on her breasts.
“Yes, Patty?”
“Where are we in now? The stake is real, our chains are real, the woodpile is real, and the fire on the torches is real!”
“Right, Patty, and the peket is real, and we are real too, and here there is no saint they have to fear the wrath off.”
“Carry, what are they going to do with us?”
“Perhaps, they just want us to get the right facial expression?”
“Damn you, Carry!”
THE END.
