Chapter One
In Cherbourg, France on October 12, 1894, it was a frosty night outside the old, grey weathered barn. It was so crisp you could see your breath on the night air, but inside the barn it smelled musky and moldy with old hay. The air felt charged with excitement and tension as the crowd shouted on their favorite fighter.
Alexander Durand was dripping sweat coated with grime from the makeshift dirt fight circle on the floor. Many a man have mistaken him to be an easy take. He was not an overly tall man nor was he an overtly muscular man, but he was a powerful force to be reckoned with even at the early age of twenty-three.
The mixed crowd of miserable riled up men and ragged women looking for an easy buck had gathered in the barn packed in shoulder to shoulder screaming his name. Hoping that they could somehow yell their hero on to victory.
With his fist held up covering his already bruised and battered face he circled his opponent looking for an opening. He spat the metallic taste of blood out of his mouth and shook the sweat from his wavy deep brown hair. He circled the stout man that was doing the same dance.
The other man already looked weary, dazed and about to pass out then he staggered revealing an opening.
Alexander threw a hard punch with his balled right fist.
The man dropped flinging spittle from his mouth as he fell hard to the dust filled ground.
The crowd roared while the bookmakers began exchanging money. Their hero had once again come through for them.
Axel, his best friend came towards him towering over the crowd as he pushed his broad shoulders through with a wide smile on his face. He hefted up one of Alexander’s arms in the air giving it a victory shake and began to chant his name out to the people.
The boisterous crowd shared in the enthusiasm feeding off it, returning the chant.
After reveling in his victory, he collected his share of the winnings along with congratulations from one grateful member of the crowd to another.
The night air caused him to shiver, and he pulled his shirt and coat on. He then followed Axel as they trudged through the dwindling crowd towards the barn exit.
A young lanky chap of about fifteen years of age hollered out behind them for their attention. But with the crowd still loudly regaling the momentous fight his shouts went unheard.
“Hey wait up!” Gaspard’s squeaky voice called again as he shoved his thin stature through holding tightly to a wad of money. He was a whip of a boy who came from a large poor family.
Once Gaspard caught up with them Alexander snatched Gaspard’s thin wrist shaking it in the air to wave the money around asking, “What do we have here? Where did all this come from?”
“You did well, so I did well. I always bet on you, my friend.” The boy smiled wide as he pulled his arm back shoving the money into his dirty tattered coat. He pushed his unkept hair back off his smudged face then swiped at his runny nose.
“You hear that, Axel. I’m a sure bet.” He gloated as he rubbed his hand over Gaspard’s greasy light brown hair.
They exited the barn into the frosty night air causing them to secure the buttons on their coats.
When they mounted their horses, Axel called out, “It’s a sure bet that you’re about to be drunk.”
Alexander turned in his saddle toward Gaspard asking as he veered his horse towards the dirt road, “Are you coming?”
“I’m always ready for a celebration.” The young boy answered beaming back at them as he mounted his old spotted grey mule.
As was routine, after winning a match they started for a local pub.
Hugo’s Pub was a familiar establishment of the local area. By the locals it was known to be a rough and seedy spot. It was well known that more than alcohol was offered at the place. But the local authorities looked the other way due to one particular proper gentleman having a standing session with one of the ladies that worked there.
They hitched their horses to the post outside Hugo’s.
To anyone not familiar with the place, from the outside it looked to be a friendly cozy Inn. It gave off a homey cottage style feel with warm lantern light shining through the small square windows. While lively music from a piano forte could be heard. But inside the pub it reeked of sweaty bodies, smoke-filled air, and hard liquor.
Alexander and his friends took a seat at the bar’s wooden front stools, observing the scandalously clad women that cackled from men’s laps.
The owner Hugo, who also filled in as another bar tender on busy occasions stood behind the wooden counter wiping spilled liquor. He stood at medium height and had thinning black hair with a thick black mustache. His oversized white shirt was stained and just covered his pudgy belly.
“Listen Alexander,” Hugo warned, “I will not have any rough housing from you tonight.” He pointed out towards the crowd seated at the wooden tables arguing, “I just replaced two chairs and a table from the last time you were here.”
“Come now Hugo.” He shrugged his shoulders saying, “What was I supposed to do? That man was Goliath huge. I had no choice.”
Hugo stared him down with a pointed finger fussing, “Not tonight, Alexander.” He warned eyeing each of them, “Watch your-self.”
Alexander gave him a look to say that nothing was his fault, that he was the innocent one. When from beside him he heard a fit of laughter break out. He turned to see Gaspard and Axel doubled over.
Hugo flipped the rag over his shoulder snapping, “What’s it to be?”
“You’re no fun Hugo,” Alexander huffed plopping down on a stool slightly agitated and ordered a whiskey as he looked about the pub.
Gaspard and Axel each placed their orders as they sat on stools beside him. They turned to see the crowd that had followed them from the barn now celebrating at the pub.
Over in the back-left corner men waited their turns to take a chance at beating a burly, bald man at a game of arm wrestling. The wad of notes by his hand indicated that he was not an easy beat.
Naturally, this peaked Alexander’s interest. No sooner had Hugo sat the shot of whiskey down on the counter in front of him than he grabbed it up throwing the familiar warmth back. He popped up ready to head straight for the game.
Axel jumped from his stool blocking his way putting a hand on his chest to deter him. “Not tonight let’s just enjoy our drinks.” He urged yanking at his arm. “We’ve had enough gambling.”
He smiled at his friend removing his hand from his arm assuring him, “It’s just a fun game of arm-wrestling Axel don’t worry.”
Hugo placed another shot of whiskey in front of him.
He tossed it back quickly before walking towards the wrestling table.
Gaspard also threw back his own drink as he jumped from his stool giggling. He skipped along in excitement beside his idol already taking a few notes from his pocket.
Alexander called back to Axel as he continued towards the game, “Tell Hugo I need another round.”
He approached the table just as the bald man slammed the red bearded man’s arm to the table with a hard thud. The red bearded man shot from his seat rubbing at his arm and Alexander slipped in his place.
“What’s the buy in?” He asked as Axel brought over his drink. He slugged it down fast, handing the glass back to Axel with a shake indicating he wanted more.
His friend shook his head with disappointment but took the glass to the counter to fetch the refill.
“Walk away kid.” The bald man sneered through a couple of missing front teeth. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He took out a few notes and laid them on the table then propped his arm up ready for the take. “Don’t let my youthful face fool you.” He jabbed back.
The man glanced at the notes then propped his arm ready to take him on.
The gangly man over-seeing the game announced the start.
The two grabbed each other’s hand and began the struggle.
Alexander gritted his teeth and strained against the brute strength of the other man. Sweat broke out over his forehead but then sweat broke out on the other man’s as well. Right as the man almost had Alexander’s arm down, he was able to inch his arm up. Their arms began to sway back and forth as they each used their strength against one another. Finally, the man slammed Alexander’s arm down to the table.
Gaspard’s face fell in disappointment along with most of the crowds. Hands exchanged money as he paid out his losses.
The man’s chest heaved while he caught his breath. “That was a good fight. He congratulated Alexander, “You’ve got moxie kid.” He asked, “What’s your name?”
Just then Axel came back handing Alexander another glass. He nodded towards the door, eyeing him with a look that said let’s leave, but Alexander shook his head back at him.
He faced the bald man and downed the drink then answered, “Alexander.” He pulled a few more notes out laying them on the table stating as a matter of fact, “Our fight isn’t over.” He put his elbow down on the table ready for another match stating, “I’m sure I can take you this time,” he emphasized, “old man.”
The bald man debated back and forth between him and the money then he placed his arm ready on the table.
Alexander smiled as he entwined his hand with the man’s.
The awkward judge gave the ready and the struggle began again.
Their arms swayed back and forth with significant effort. After a great amount of struggle Alexander had the man’s hand nearly down for the match, but the man put his body to his hand and used the table as leverage.
Alexander jerked his arm from the match jumping up pointing at the man accusing, “That’s cheating! You can’t do that.” He shot his brown eyes to the judge for confirmation.
The bald man stood to his full height causing everyone including the judge and Alexander to have to look up at him.
The judge gulped and kept his mouth shut backing away into the crowd as the bald man held an intimidating stare on him.
Then the massive bald man fixed his scarred, toothless face back at Alexander and snarled, “You accusing me of cheating boy.”
Taking one look at the monster of a man Alexander now was second guessing his accusing outburst. The mere size of the man was foreboding but his accusation was already out there.
Everyone was staring at him.
He composed his self then stood firm shooting back as he kept a fixed glare on the giant of a man, “I’m not accusing you of playing by the rules.”
At this remark the crowd scrambled over one another to get out of the way knocking down each other along with chairs, tables and whatever else was in their path.
The bald man drew back his arm hitting Alexander square on his already swollen right jaw.
Alexander fell backwards flat on his butt. He shook his rattled head then looked up just in time to see the behemoth shoving the table out of the way coming at him.
Now the pub was in a full uproar as fights broke out everywhere.
Hugo jumped from behind the counter with a club in his hand breaking up one skirmish after another. He kept working his way towards the bald man and Alexander.
Alexander scrambled to his feet meeting the bald titan in the middle throwing a couple of punches, missing the first one but landing the second on the man’s left jaw.
Axel who had taken in the commotion left the woman that was in his arms and ran to join his friend picking up a wooden chair along the way. He hit the bald man across the back with it. They fought hard side by side as they had done since childhood, and it still amazed him how Alexander could fight and snatch a drink at the same time.
When the fight was over, they surveyed the damage that had been done to the pub. There were many broken chairs. Wooden tables were scattered from one end to the other with shattered glass scattered all over the floor. At least they had left the bald man knocked out on the floor. The only drawback was that Hugo made Alexander pay for all the damage then kicked them out.
While they stood outside the pub dusting off their clothes and checking over their wounds Axel asked, “Where’s our little friend?”
“Gaspard?” Alexander questioned then shrugged answering, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the beginning of the second arm-wrestling match.” He gently swiped at his bloody nose and caught Axel staring back at the pub. “I’m sure he made it out safely.” He tried to assure him, “He’s probably already back at his house.”
Alexander lifted his tired arm feeling his aching nose. By the crooked swollen feel of it he knew it was broken. When he checked his lip, he could feel that it too was swollen and bleeding. He reached into his pockets feeling around pulling out one franc. He shoved it back in his pocket thinking it was a good thing that he was a betting man.
He glanced down the dark dirt path that was lined with large old oak trees. Their bare branches intertwined shadowing over the path. The night fog seeping between them giving off an eerie vibe. To anyone else the path might have looked scary, but not to him. The trail was his familiar stomping grounds as it led him home.
Axel mounted his horse and tightened the reins in his hands eyeing Alexander. He knew that look on Alexander’s face. His heart was not in it. He hung his head down looking at the reins in his hand thinking to himself how tired he was. Not just physically, although that was true too. But he was also tired of all the gambling, fighting. He felt it was time for a change in his life.
He popped his head up as Alexander asked lining his horse up for a race, “How about a wager my friend?”
“When are you going to change?”
“Never my friend.” Alexander answered then asked, “What brought about that question?”
Axel took a deep breath then let it out asking, “Don’t you get tired of all this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This.” Axel answered gesturing towards the pub. “The fighting, the gambling, the drinking, the many different women.” He asked, “Don’t you get tired of it?”
“We’re young.” He answered, “I say let us live life to the fullest. There is plenty of time before we must settle. I don’t know about you, but I for one don’t want a nagging woman pestering me.”
Axel let the discussion go not knowing how to explain that they had reached two different points in their lives. He stared forward for a moment then gave a nod.
Alexander wagered, “One gold franc to the one who reaches my property fence line first.”
Axel settled down firmly in his saddle then stretched his feet in his stirrups. Fixing his eyes on the path he gave a short nod.
Alexander grinned as he shouted, “Go!” He kicked his heel to his horse taking off like a bolt.
Axel clicked his tongue as he heeled his horse on. He rose off the saddle leaning forward as he raced to catch up with Alexander. His bay Breton glistened with sweat as he rounded the curve taking the lead, snorting vast amounts of air through its large nostrils. He threw back a winning grin to his friend.
Alexander glanced quickly at Axel’s wide grin and tightened the reins heeling his horse on. The thrill of the race building in his chest. His horse began to gain ground and round on Axel’s.
Axel threw another quick glance back only to find his friend coming up on his right. He pushed his horse harder, kicking his heels and clicking his tongue. He could see the fence line coming into view straight ahead.
Alexander’s chestnut Breton rounded the bay flinging up black clumps of earth headed straight for the fence line. The young chestnut seemed to know that home was right ahead.
Alexander flung his arm up with a victory shout as he pulled his horse to a hard stop right in front of the fence. He waited a mere second as Axel came to a stop right beside him.
“Good race my friend. Better luck next time,” he panted out of breath wiping the sweat from his brow.
Axel leaned forward patting his horse’s neck then reached in his pocket handing him a gold franc. “Congratulations.”
He shoved the franc in his pocket asking, “How about you come inside for a drink?”
“No, no. It’s late. I must head home,” He said veering his horse back onto the path adding, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Take care,” Alexander called out to him.
Axel waved a hand in the air as he continued down the trail towards his home.
