Play@YSDC

Holy Tuesday is drawing to a close. The Dame Marie streets are dark, lit only by the occasional lantern. Here and there the sound of drums, trumpets, and snatches of other music are carried on the wind, impossible to localise. The warmth of the day has given way to a chill in the air and there is even a drizzle of rain.

Walking down past Pointe Pierre, the music is playing again, American jazz, a trumpet solo, no, trumpet and saxophone. Miles Davis recording the song Move as far as Laurent can tell. Eddie and Paul are long gone, as are most of the kids. But a hardy few are still sitting around in the flickering lamplight outside Old Man Samuel's shop.

The two boys step hesitantly onto the wet sand of Anse Douce. Laurent's feeble flashlight barely penetrates the screen of rain as they stumble along the water's edge. Able to see little more than the white froth of the low-breaking waves. Approaching the gully filled with coral boulders, the increasingly familiar fairyland of coral and shadows takes on a grimmer vista in the gloom from the ever heavier showers. Laurent's clothes are starting to feel sodden and stick to his skin. His flashlight fizzles and dims as water penetrates the casing.

Suddenly Laurent's light picks out a pale, running shape near the edge of the gully. Moving quickly towards the protection of the boulders. The whole length of the figure reflecting the light as if from naked skin.

"Definitely not Marise, not with that skin tone," whispers Laurent, "but maybe he's seen her. Let's get a closer look."

Laurent and Pierre creep forward across the sand. Down among the chunks of coral there are a lot of places someone might hide, it's like a maze. Laurent's flashlight beam skipping across the boulders, but revealing no sign of movement among the piles of rock. The rain is driving heavily now and the wind has sprung up, the surf breaking with a monotonous, muted rumble in the darkness.

Laurent shines his flashlight on the sand where he had seen the figure standing, looking for footprints in it.

Laurent manages to pick up the trail.

Roll (human die) to look for footprints in the sand:
1d6

Even with the driving rain, Laurent can see something in the wet sand. Not footprints exactly, more like scuff marks, like something being dragged across the sand. Following the trail with his flashlight he skips his flickering beam across a couple of chunks of coral. As the light breaks through the gap between two boulders there's a tinny clunk, like an empty can being kicked or knocked into rocks or coral. Advancing towards the noise he sees between the boulders someone on their hands and knees, lit up by his flashlight, trying to crawl away.

A girl, not naked as he had expected, barefoot but wearing blue jeans and a blue denim shirt. Trapped in the weak pool of light she stops, turns, and slowly gets to her feet. Saying nothing, Marise Lavigne stands there, facing them, as Laurent and Pierre rush across the sand towards her.

'Marise, where have you been?' shouts Pierre. But she just looks down at her bare feet, at the empty beer can that betrayed her, and she gives it a savage kick, sending it ricocheting among the coral rocks. As the clattering echoes around she starts cursing with a controlled fury that Laurent has never seen from her before.

"Your parents are very worried about you, Marise," says Laurent. "So were we. I'm glad you're all right. Why did you come here?"

‘I don't have to answer your questions!’ she shrieks at Laurent.

"I'm sorry," says Laurent. "We only came looking for you because we care about you, and we want to help."

Marise pushes past them, but Pierre grabs her arm. She twists herself free and spits at him. ‘I can walk! There's nothing wrong with me!’ Then she strides past, along the shore while Laurent and Pierre hurry to catch her up.

'Don't you try and run away again,' Pierre shouts after her. Marise stops, turns on her heel, and glares at him, hands on her hips. Laurent's flashlight beam touches her face and reveals a glitter in her eyes that he finds oddly attracting but also repellent. Through thin lips she hisses, ‘You don't need to be afraid I'll run away. I didn't have to come back you know.’

"Will you come back with us?" asks Laurent.

Marise just laughs at him. It's a harsh, mocking sound, nothing like her usual joyful laugh. She strides on, back towards Pointe Pierre. She says nothing, just marches along the sand. Eventually slowing to a stop once they've climbed from the beach to the pier. She turns and looks out at the sea, into the darkness. A look on her face of...longing maybe? But also one of fear. Then the expression is gone and she returns to the cold, hard features she's adopted since they found her down by the water. She looks up towards town, then slowly starts to walk in that direction, letting Laurent and Pierre catch her up. Saying nothing all the while.

Laurent follows along, letting her maintain her silence.

The walk up from Pointe Pierre, through sleeping Dame Marie to the Lavigne house is the longest one of Laurent's life. None of the three of them speak. Arriving at the house Laurent feels limp with relief as he knocks on the door and Florence opens it, wrapping Marise in her arms with a cry and copious tears. Yet the girl just stands there, rigid and unmoving.

Florence ushers everyone inside, explaining that Fabrice is still out searching. Marise perches on the edge of a stool. Now that Laurent can see her in the lamplight she looks half-asleep, exhausted even. And her eyes, there's a blankness. Something missing, the spark of the girl he used to know.

Turning momentarily from fussing over her daughter, Florence asks, 'Where did you find her?'

"Anse Douce," says Laurent. "When we didn't find her at Point Pierre, we went back there to see if she arrived since we were there before, and she had."

'Anse Douce? Again?' she asks. 'Then why didn't Fabrice find her there? Where is he?' She looks at Marise who just shrugs despondently.

'What is it with Anse Douce Marise? Why do you keep going there?' Marise looks away.

'What's going on there?' No answer. Then slowly and very deliberately she says, ‘I didn't have to come back.’

'Come back from where?'

‘The place I disappeared to.’

'And where was that?' Florence asks in an exasperated tone.

Quietly, slowly the girl answers, ‘I...I don't remember now.’

'What do you mean you don't remember? Marise, this is...is...is just impossible,' she screams. 'I'm taking you to see Dr Clermont, he needs to see you, to find out what is going on with you!'

Marise's expression takes on a sour look. ‘I'm not going anywhere, I want to go to bed.’

"Maybe he'll make a house call," says Laurent. "I could go get him."

Pierre stays with his sister while Laurent runs out into the night to find the doctor. Dashing through the unlit streets of Dame Marie, avoiding donkey shit and even worse substances in the gutters, he arrives at Dr Clermont's house, lungs burning and feeling light headed. The surgery is long closed for the night and the house is dark. Laurent knocks on the door and after a few minutes the old doctor comes to the door, looking bleary eyed.

'Ah, Monsieur Toussaint, disturbing my sleep seems to have become quite the habit for you recently. How can I help you my jeune homme?'

"It's Marise who needs your help, Doctor," says Laurent. "We found her at Anse Douce after she wandered off again. Physically, she doesn't appear injured, but she's changed somehow recently. She's been through something awful, and she won't talk about it."

The old doctor shakes his head and his expression is one of genuine concern. 'Oh Marise Lavigne, what a puzzle that girl is.' He ducks back inside and emerges a few minutes later dressed and carrying his medical bag. They take Dr Clermont's battered old Renault car which shakes and judders over the unpaved streets of Dame Marie throwing its unsteady headlight beam across the dark houses.

They have to abandon the car at the top of the Lavigne's street and enter the house. Fabrice has returned and there is a palpable tension between him and Florence, perhaps not unrelated to the strong smell of drink off the man. Marise is curled up on a chair, shivering despite several blankets wrapped around her. 'Why, the child is exhausted,' exclaims the doctor. 'What has happened to you?' he asks Marise, but she can only stare at him with her blank eyes. The doctor turns to Laurent, 'You found her in Anse Douce again? What was she doing there?'

"Other than trying not to be found, I'm not sure," says Laurent. He tells the doctor everything he saw Marise say and do. "She knows, but she isn't talking. I'm hoping you can get her to open up."

Despite the cajoling of Florence and Dr Clermont, Marise will not say anything. Just shaking her head and pulling the blankets tighter around her as the doctor tries to examine her. He's right though, she looks completely exhausted now. Paler, her face is drawn, thinner even.

'You're not well Marise. I need to run some tests on you at least. The best place for you is hospital,' the doctor says to her gently.

Marise gathers herself enough to hiss weakly, ‘I don't want to go to a hospital, I want to stay here.’

The old doctor looks to Florence for support, his face one of exasperation and concern. 'Mais je ne peux rien faire ici, I cannot do the right tests here. The best place, the only place is the private hospital in Cap Matelot.'

Florence and Fabrice both wince at the mention of the private hospital. Laurent knows they likely cannot afford the fees there.

Seeing their discomfort, Clermont hastily adds, 'Edouard Beliard the director is...an old friend. I'm sure we can work something out.'

Continuing to shake her head, Marise burrows deeper into the chair, pulling the blankets even tighter, revealing the outline of her body underneath, thinner and bonier than Laurent remembers.

"Please, Marise," says Laurent. "You need help. You can't do this on your own. I'll be with you the whole time, if you like."

She doesn't say anymore, just crosses her arms over her chest in an almost protective gesture.

OOC:   I think a roll to see how persuasive Laurent is.

"Please," says Laurent again, looking her in the eyes. "I really care about you."

Roll to convince Marise:
1d6

Marise sits up a little and stares back into Laurent's eyes. For a brief moment, they are that same expressive hazel he remembers, piercing to his soul. He almost flinches away at how close, how intimate that expression feels. A real sadness, but with a flash of affection he thinks...he hopes. But then her eyes are that new deep green again, like the sea. Her look glazed, empty.

‘Okay, if you come too Laurent.’

-----

Dr Clermont seems pleased. He busies himself collecting up blankets and reassuring Florence and Fabrice. Pierre just stands back, confused, giving Laurent and odd look that he doesn't understand.

'She will be better in no time. Just a few tests, that is all. Dr Beliard is the best doctor there is, he will know what to do. Come, come Laurent. You can drive while I sit with Marise, I do struggle to see in this darkness.'

OOC:   If you're happy we can start the drive to Cap Matelot

"Coming," says Laurent, getting behind the wheel and starting the motor.

Yes, I'm happy with that.