Carmen

Armand Fournier was a rather simple man. He enjoyed his bread with cheese and his tea. Both of which he could make himself but he was also a rather lazy man. Because of this he would often go to find these pleasures at the small restaurant a few minutes walk from his home and bakery. The waitress knew his order by heart and there was always a corner table reserved for him.

When he had first moved to the seaside town in the quietest part of northern France his new neighbors had regarded him with some disdain. Just a man from the city looking to run us out of our own town they said. When he had bought the two story stone building he was buying up real estate that the locals could have. He had made himself rather hated in the town. But when he opened up his bakery and the first weary customers had come and bought the first few loaves of bread he’d made they rejoiced. The best bread in the entire town they claimed. Soon Armand’s business was flourishing and he had gained the favor of nearly everyone in town including the owner of the restaurant he sat at now.

His meal had just arrived and he had just begun to tear into the bread and cheese when one of the side windows shattered and a woman came falling through it. She landed on the table below the window and it promptly splintered depositing her unceremoniously on the floor with a loud oomf. Armand simply stared at the stranger, cup halfway to his lips. The stranger, for she was quite strange with her overlarge pants with overlarge pockets and her short sleeved shirt, also rather overlarge that read in bold font: GET WITH THE TIMES printed in English. Her hair was a vibrant red color as were her cheeks and her finger nails. Her eyes were a brown so dark it was nearly black.

“Hello there.”

When Armand had lived in Paris he had met an Englishman named Charles that badly needed a French tutor. Armand agreed in exchange for English lessons from Charles. Armand had later learned that Charles had been a soldier and died in the war. When the war had started Armand had fled to America. He had bought briefly in the first Great War and the prospect of fighting again did not sound particularly promising. He had been told by his father, far too old to fight in any war now, that he had no loyalty to his country and that he was abandoning them. His parents had been living in a small town on the western coast of France when the Nazis invaded. Neither one of them had been harmed, only taken captive. They both survived to see their only son once more on their death beds. They had left everything to him. He had lived in Paris a few months more. Just enough time to tie up any loose ends. Then he had moved up to the town he now resided in. The town where he now sat staring at a woman who was now pushing to her feet. She brushed off her pants and shirt that he could still not quite make sense of and looked back through the way she’d come.

“Bit of a rough landing but what can you do,” she spoke with a strange accent that sounded faintly English, “when your Vortex Manipulator doesn’t bloody work.”

She shook her wrist vigorously and smacked the device that rested on it. Armond could not see the wrist or what he guessed to be some kind of watch from where he sat. But she had called it a something Manipulator. That didn’t sound any kind of good.

She was still fiddling with her watch.

“If I could just-” She looked up and cut herself off as she saw Armand sitting at his table.

“Hello,” said Armond, “Are you going to jump on my table as well?”

“No. No, I rather think I won’t. What’s your name?” Her way of speaking was one that sounded off assurance in herself and her situation.

“My name is Armand Fournier. What is your name?” He had not spoken English in some time and he could only really remember the formal way of speaking Charles had first taught him.

“My name is Carmen. Would you care to go on an adventure?”

Before Armand could answer Carmen glanced back through the window.

“You’d better answer quick.” She slammed open the shop door and began to run in the opposite direction than when she had come.

He watched her go in stunned silence. Then he considered his food and drink. He could always come back and buy some more tea or bread. Hell he could make it himself but this encounter might be once in a lifetime. He stood up. Set some money on the counter and walked out the door. Carmen was standing in the middle of the street. Entirely oblivious to the cars honking towards her. Armond ran into the road and pulled her out of it. He waved to some of the angry drivers to try to soothe their tempers. By the shouting pointed in his and Carmen's directions it didn’t seem to work.

“So close,” Carmen exclaimed, continuing to shake the device that she had now taken off her wrist.

“May I ask what that thing is?” Armond queried.

Instead of an answer she asked, “What year is it?” He waited to see if she was joking or not. “Well?” She apparently was not.

“It is 1950.”

“Well no wonder this damned thing isn’t working.”

“Again, may I ask what it-”

“It’s the stupid thing with the Gregorian calendar and perfect years. They short circuit every single travel device,” she turned to him, “Especially Vortex Manipulators.”

“What does that mean?” Armond asked, entirely confused.

“It means,” Carmen said, raising her voice, “that I’m stuck here with things that have much better technology that were,” a long beep sounded from the Vortex Manipulator or whatever it was called, “are still chasing me.”

“Well… is there anything I can do to help?” It felt like a rather silly question to ask after hearing the problems that had been laid before him. He expected Carmen to tell him such as well as to leave her alone because he could not do anything useful.

Instead she considered.

“Possibly. Does your house have a basement?”

“No it does not. I am sorry.”

Her face lit up with a crooked smile. She had several gold teeth.

“That’s perfect. That is bloody perfect.” Her smile faded as she considered again. “Does this town have a bakery?”

“Yes it does. It is on the bottom floor of my house.”

Her smile returned.

“This is so wonderful. So wonderful I could kiss you. But I won’t… because kissing random people is not wonderful.”

He just stared at her. A long moment passed.

“Well? Where is it, this bakery of yours?”

He started. “Right. This way.”

As they walked Armond asked the first question he had asked.

“This is called a Vortex Manipulator. It is basically a teleport… you don’t know about those yet do you?”

The look on his face must have given away the answer.

“It takes me to different places.”

“Faster than trains?”

“A little bit.” Carmen smiled. “How old are you?”

Armond wondered if his question had been silly enough to warrant the question. He answered defensively.

“I am 36 years old.”

“You sound British.”

“I was taught English by an Englishman.”

“Rather a good policy I think. Learning a language from someone who is from where the language is named after.”

“Are you not English as well? You sound English.”

“Oh I am. I’ve just been a lot of other places too. And here we are.”

They had arrived in front of the two story brickwork building Armond called his home and workplace. It had alleyways on either side of it leading into dead ends filled with garbage and rats. It had a chimney that led directly from the downstairs kitchen through the one on the top floor and up to the roof where they could just see whitish grey smoke drifting out of its opening. He pushed the door open and reached down to collect the sign that read out to lunch on the windowsill. Carmen’s hand darted out and held the sign firmly where it was.

“We need to keep the illusion that no one is here as long as we possibly can. They will find us, I just need some time before they do.”

“Who is ‘they’? You said ‘they’ had better technology than you did. Are you running from the English government? The French?” Armond’s eyes widened. “The Americans?”

“No, no. None of that lot.” She vaulted over the display shelving near the back of the shop. “If I were, I wouldn’t need yours or anyone else's help. I’m running from something a bit more dangerous.” She pulled out the plug in the wall behind the counter and began to coil it up. “I need you to find me every electrical cord in this house be it a lamp or your gas stove.” Carmen ran toward the stairs leading up to Armond’s living quarters.

“How will this help if what is coming for you is more dangerous than the most powerful governments?” His voice was slightly whiny. He hadn’t known that this adventure might put him in so much danger. He had just wanted to brighten up his life a bit. Nothing more. Now he was stuck in a possibly very dangerous situation with a stranger who may or not be a complete lunatic.

“Because, Armond Fournier, I was taught by the very best.”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards.

“The very best of what?”

She was halfway up the stairs when she turned to face him. Her face was serious now. No joking tone to be heard.

“Everything. The best of everything.”

He was surprised to find that he believed her. What had gotten into him? Maybe the waitress had made a bad cup of tea. Maybe this all a hallucination and he would soon come back to his senses inside the restaurant. Or maybe this was an excuse to do something exciting.

“Come on. We don’t have a moment to waste. Anything electrical that you have and bring it to your roof.”

He thought about questioning her more but decided against it. Something had changed and he got the feeling that any argument on his part would not end well for him.

It took them about an hour to gather up everything that was connected to any kind of electrical current and take it to the roof. Nothing particularly unusual happened. Armond began to think that Carmen had lied to him in some plot to rob him. All of the things she had said about Vortex manipulators and things chasing after her sounded quite impossible. After everything had been brought to the roof she told him to start connecting all the things that he could and leave the rest to her.

“How do I know that you are not going to steal all of this from me?” he asked, glaring at her, “Or just break everything?”

She beckoned him over to the edge of the roof and pointed out a couple miles away from the edge of town. Dark clouds had begun to gather there.

“See those thunder clouds?”

“So what?” He crossed his arms. “A storm is moving in. We get a lot of weather here.”

“That isn’t just a storm. That is a lightning storm.” She paused as if waiting for him to make sense of what she was saying. He said nothing because, of course, he did not.

“Lightning storms are nothing to be worried about. They are common.”

She sighed.

“The things that are chasing me are called Kaxnyekki. They are living lightning. I was able to kill one of the more powerful Kaxnyekki that had gone rogue and nearly destroyed several planets. They still consider it the highest offense no matter how crazy the one I killed was. That storm headed for us is their ship and if we don’t have all these cords connected by the time it gets here it will kill this entire town including you and me. Now do you have any questions or would you just like to get back to work?”

Armond stared at the woman sitting next to him. He had only understood about three quarters of what she said and was now very sure that she was crazy. But he had understood the bit about everyone dying including him so he shook his head and bent to the task of attaching cable and plug to cable and plug.

The storm had reached the town boundaries.

“They are almost here.” Armond’s voice rang high and tinny in his own ears.

“And I’m almost done.” Carmen had been laboring over the pile of electrical cables with a device that kept sparking.

The dark grey mass came rolling toward them faster and faster.

Armond could now see glowing spots in the cloud that might have been lights of some kind of airship like Carmen had said or they might have been the glowing of eyes glaring hungrily at him and his accomplice.

“They’re coming!” he screamed over the howling wind now surrounding them. The clouds were almost upon them.

“That’s what she said!” Carmen shouted back at him and stabbed one of the buttons on the sparking machine.

The cloud started to be sucked inward towards the thing in her hand which he realized she had attached to the cables. The mists grew smaller and smaller until there was barely any left and then none at all.

Carmen yanked hard at the device on the end of the cables. It came off with a pop and a fizz.

They both were silent for a moment and then she let out a loud cry of triumph.

“That was bloody wonderful. I was bloody wonderful. You were… you were good.” She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “You did good.” Her energy seemed to come back to her in a rush and she began dancing around the roof yelling rather indecipherable things and generally making every neighbor on the street hate whoever lived in the house they were both standing on top of. He winced. Maybe he could make them some bread to soothe their nerves.

“Well,” she said when she seemed to have exhausted herself, “I’ll be off then.”

“What?” Armond asked in some surprise, “I thought you were stuck here because of your Vortex...thing.”

“Aw, will you miss me?” She chuckled to herself. “The shock that went into the cable was the Kaxnyekki being trapped in there. Some of the residue went into my Vortex Manipulator and got it working again.”

“Good. I don’t think you would have liked being stuck here.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he said it and it seemed like Carmen was surprised as well.

“Why? Why do you think that I wouldn’t like being trapped here?” Her tone was demanding and inquisitive.

“Because…” He hesitated. “Because you seem like the kind of person who enjoys this sort of thing and we do not have anything of the sort around here.”

She began to laugh.

“Right you are Armond. Right you are.”

They went back down to street level to say their goodbyes. It was not anything special. They had only each other for maybe two hours if that. It was not as if they were saying goodbye to an old friend.

Carmen walked out into the street and tilted her face to the sun. It glinted in her hair making it look like she was aflame.

“Goodbye Armand Fournier. Goodbye.” With a wink and a wave she started running down the cobblestones. As she ran he could see her fiddling with her Vortex manipulator. When she reached the main street she did not stop to look for cars. She just continued running and then she disappeared. Right before his eyes she disappeared right out of the street.

“Well I’ll be damned.” he said under his breath.

Six months later Armond sat in his kitchen as the kettle boiled. He had started to make his tea at home as well as the bread he ate alongside it. He seemed to enjoy and savor it more. He poured the water into his favorite cup. The only one he ever drank tea out of now. He had inscribed the words himself with an old hunting knife. GET WITH THE TIMES in clumsy letters was scratched into the metal. He knew he could never forget the one person who had ever made his life truly interesting. As he lifted the cup to his lips he heard a large crash and a grunt of pain. He set down his cup and walked out into his sitting room to find a girl with red hair and baggy clothes lying upside down on the floor next to a half open window.

“Are you ready for another adventure?”