episode 8, part B.
PPD and the Guest were well aware of the multiple political- refugee exoduses that had happened over the centuries. Partition trains between India and Pakistan, Syrians on air-filled tube boats floating into European coasts, human trafficking in the form of labourers from Bangladesh to Bombay. Chopin and the trio travelled in far more comfortable conditions. A horse - pulled coach initially took them out of Warsaw, to Dresden, where FC gave a few concerts in the intimate setting of people's homes. It ensured the group a cosy dinner, and gave Mata and the Guest to do their comical dance routine.
"I wish you wouldn't dance," PPD tried telling the Guest kindly. "You know, it doesn't really suite your personality."
"Oh would you rather I cooked? Or drove the carriage?" asked the Guest pertinently.
PPD gave up. Anyway, most people found her dance moves excellent comic relief in times of sadness, so she may as well continue her "dancing".
In Salzburg they had a much larger audience in the King's hall where FC drew in such a crowd, that fans thronged the gates of the auditorium and spilled out onto the streets. There was much excitement and shouting, and even PPD, the man of questionable music choices had to say "I've only seen this fandom for MJ."
"Hoo EmJay?" asked Mata.
"No one," the Guest said hurriedly, worried that Mata might make the Moonwalk her newest dance conquest.
They finally arrived to a Paris enveloped by amber orange crispy leaves, with a hint of chill that gave only the faintest suggestion of a prelude to a cold winter. It was October 1831, Paris was the heart of the free world. Artists lay strewn about the parks like acorns, in cozy corners buried under easles and canvasses, young carefree girls playing in the park posing unwittingly as their models.
It is here that Chopin, PPD and Mata Hari spent every evening in a new bar, downing kegs of beer, attending seances and planchet sessions, while FC would tickle the audience with music that seemed to pour out of him like the Nile in Jinja. PPD could see what was happening fast, before his own eyes: the Guest and FC were falling in love! He caught them slinking off in dark corridors, and often saw FC smoothening out the ruffles of his shirt and adjusting his belt when they emerged from the shadows. He was happy for his friend, because he had wanted her to find kinship in someone of her own kind. Musicians are a passionate breed, who can only handle one another's waxing and waning moods. Mata Hari, however, did not share his opinion.
"Ve must stop dem!" she told PPD abruptly.
"What do you even mean by that?" questioned PPD. "They are fully grown consenting adults!"
"Yes, but a union of mixed race is never accepted," reflecting at her own parents' union, only too painfully aware of the cost it had posed to the entire family.
"But Paris is a free city," said PPD. "No one cares here."
That evening they met up with their close group of friends Eugene Delacroix and Hector Berlioz.
"FC, George waz asking about you, by ze way," remarked Eugene. "Oh Lord! Iz she back from Spain?" asked FC worriedly. "Oui," nodded Eugene. "And she is zoining uz tonight."
The salon doors swung open and in came a large Amazon of a woman, wearing men's clothing. "She looks like John Wayne!" gasped the Guest, her mouth half open in shock.
"She is FC's ex!" said Hector.
For FC, it appeared that time stood still. George Sand crossed the room in slow dramatic strides. PPD and the Guest could hear the theme song of the Good, the Bad, the Ugly in their imagination. George put her hand into her pocket, as if to take out a gun, but whipped out a rose instead. Before anyone knew what hit them, George and FC were locked in a right embrace, FC's long fingers tightly gripped George's derriere, while his tongue massaged her tonsils.
The Guest looked at PPD horrified and suddenly burst into tears.
"Cheeldren dese days, I tell you," said Mata Hari, only too experienced in the intrigues of romance. "I hope vun day meeting somevun is as eazy as the svipe of a button. These cheeldren fall in love too hard!"
--------to be continued.