The Adventures of Campy Girlymann

The two men tucked in, making their bodies form along the lines of the bike. It kept there profile small and wind resistance at a minimum. Campy swerved from one side to the other of the road with the Belgian tight on his wheel. They were on a slight climb but when they reached the top and began the downhill, the bullets stopped.  Girlymann knew it wouldn't be long before they got in vehicles to chase them down with guns blazing.

Girlymann looked ahead, the road descended into a forest but soon ahead he could see the pavement end and become dirt. Campy took a quick look at his directions, memorizing when to turn left and right, which fork to take and once he was sure, put the paper back and gripped his bars just in time to feel the De Rosa shake under him when the tires left the pavement.

Soon they were in the forest. It felt better to have  the company of trees and their broad limbs shading the road. It gave them security in their flight, and they sped on their bikes as fast as fast could on a bumpy dirt road that shook the bikes so bad their teeth rattled. Campy knew the next turn was soon and from what he could tell they would need to gear up for a climb.

He took the turn and yelled, "Standing."

The Belgian knew what to do and got out of saddle with Campy. Good thing too, because it was an eighteen percent climb, short but a real kicker.  The two men reached the summit to find it only went down a short while before another steep climb came up.

How many more were there? Could the Belgian hold on  and keep climbing after all they've been through?  Campy knew their foe would be coming along soon. If they caught them here, in these rollers, they were sitting ducks.

"Kick it Belgian. We gotta make some time between them and us."

"It's too late Campy. Look."

Campy took a quick look behind them and could see one of the cars at the top of the first hill before it sank out of sight.

"Shit."

Just then, in front of them at the bottom of the gully was running water, Campy hit it and bounced off a rock, he managed to keep the bike up and power up the the other side. His bike slipped in the dirt and he lost some momentum but made it up and over. The Belgian hanging tight behind him. After another climb they came to a glen and the road smoothed out but they also lost the cover of the trees.

The two hightailed it as fast as they could toward the tree cover on the other side of the glen when a dip in the road brought them to a patch of mud where a small pond must have formed from recent rains. Campy veered quickly to the side and forced his legs to pump out the energy he needed to keep the wheels from sinking. He quickly mapped what looked like the driest section and went for it.

With sweat beading on his brow, he grunted and charged until his back wheel hit traction and they were on the other side. Within seconds they were back in the woods feeling safe until they heard a noise from above.

To be continued.....

The Adventures of Campy Girlymann

It was the thugs from the guard house. Being fooled by Campy must have really pissed them off. They came running from their post full speed. Girlymann glanced at the gate, not too far from them but they were not only closed but a thick chain made the final clasp.

"Campy! Look in your jersey!"

It was Pepe, the wash maid's boyfriend and Campy felt his pockets in the back of the jersey and found a route slip leading from the estate into the hunting woods in back. "Belgian!"

"Yes,"

"I'll take the De Rosa. Follow me."

The Belgian mounted the Pogliaghi Campy had rode in on as Girlymann took hold of his bike.

It was as if an electric current went through him. An energy of man melding with machine and Campy savored it like hot sex on a warm summer night. They both took off just quick enough to miss the working end of a shovel destined for their heads. 

Ah, Campy thought, to be riding the De Rosa once again, life was good and now he was out to right a wrong on an unknown road. What could be better? He made sure in his exuberance that the Belgian was safely tucked in his draft.

"Don't loose the draft Belgian." Campy roared behind him.

"You carried me to victory Campy, I know your ass well."

They both smiled, griped their bars with one hand and took a quick check of what they had. Energy bars, small water but when they checked the bottles fastened to the bikes they discovered them full. Someone had taken care of them. They felt good. Felt like they had a fighting chance until a bullet whizzed by.

To be continued....

The Adventures of Campy Girlymann

It was a long sleep. The wash maiden was too timid to wake them and let them sleep well hidden in the bundles of warm linen. Campy and the Belgian were snug and tight to each other. The Belgian rested his head on Girlymann's chest, his arms wrapped around his hero. Though Campy was awake, and ravenous, he didn't want to wake the faithful domestic.

When he felt the Belgian stir Campy woke him with a kiss and the two emerged from the sacks of laundry looking for their clothes.

"Psst," Campy got the attention of the maid and she blushed rushing to get their clothes that were clean, warm and dry.

When they dressed the maid presented them with a tray that held hot coffee, cream, warm croissants and elderberry jam. They attacked it, using bits of their fresh rolls to clean the plate. The sun was coming in through the small window. It looked like a good day, blue sky and what seemed to be a tranquil situation from the shouting and yelling of the day before.

Both men knew they would have to soon leave. The maid seemed nervous and kept an eye on the door that led to the interior of the estate. Both bikes were ready and Campy wondered how they could leave without too much notice. He decided the best thing to do was for them to take their bikes and chances. He opened the door and peered out, not much going on, perhaps they could ride off without any notice, so he motioned for the Belgian to follow.

They were both in the courtyard in back ready to mount their bikes when they heard a man yell.

"Stop."

To be continued....

The Adventures of Campy Girlymann

Girlymann and the Belgian waited and listened. What they heard was the conversation of the couple just inches from them. Campy thought they were perhaps lovers. His French was limited but the Belgian began to get excited about what the two outside were saying.

"Monsieur Campy," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"They are talking of us. They are looking for us before the guards and Jean Claude's roughs do."

"You mean they're on our side?"

"Yes. And I recognize the young woman, she brought me my food sometimes and always made sure to sneak a little more to me. She gave me hope."

"What do you think? Should we spring on them?"

"We can't stay here forever."

Campy took the hint and the tone of their conversation did seem concerned. He raised the trap door just a bit and lifted his hand.

The woman saw his hand first and gave a start. "Pepe," she said pointing to Campy's hand.

The man saw it and immediately grabbed Campy's hand pulling him out of the coal shoot. He was surprised to see the Belgian and the bike come up as well.

"Monsieurs. Please hurry before you're seen," The man and woman led the two with the bike to the laundry room just a few feet away. When Campy cleared the coal dust from his eyes he could see it was the same girl that he met earlier and who let him into the estate.

Once inside, the door was shut and they were taken to the back of the room. The bike was hidden among the bundles of laundry and the two men, thick with smeared coal were shown a large wash tub where they could scrub the soot from their bodies. The young woman took their clothes and immediately began to wash them once Campy and the Belgian stripped and climbed into the tub.

Her male friend kept a lookout at the small window that faced the back courtyard of the estate. Every once in while he would tell them to quiet when someone came close by. Campy and the Belgian gladly  turned on the hot water to wash the grime from their bodies with large bars of lavender soap to scrub each other clean.

With their bodies soaking in the hot sudsy water and their clothes being washed clean, they began to feel their strength return. Once they were both clean, they snuggled naked into the warm comfort of bundled laundry and fell asleep hidden well and safe.

To Be Continued....

The Adventures of Campy Girlymann Continue

Girlymann slowly lifted the trap door. Lucky for him, the coal dust had lubricated the hinges for there in front of him were a pair of feet. Actually two pairs of feet. One of a man with work boots and another of a woman with very small feet. Shit, Campy thought to himself, of all the rotten luck.

Campy looked at the Belgian who was hanging on to Campy's waist with one arm and and his bike with the other. He looked tired and strained from the climb up the shoot.  His head rested on Girlymann's thigh. Campy wanted to comfort him, somehow reach out to the man that had endured and suffered so much for Grilymann that it brought tears to his eyes.

With each passing minute that strained the two's tendons and sore muscles Campy could feel the fight drain from the poor Belgian, the giant man who now weighed a little more than a hundred pounds. It made Campy mad. Made him want to fight and he wasn't going to be defeated. He wasn't going to let the domestic down.

Girlymann steeled his legs to each side of the shoot. He carefully took his bike from the grip of the Belgian and hoisted it carefully up to his side. Then he leaned against the bike to hold it in place. When the bike was secured, Campy reached down and pulled the domestic up wrapping his arms around the man and holding him fast in the tight space of their spider hole. Girlymann felt the body of the Belgian relax and  his bony frame rest on Campy. He made a vow then, to protect the Belgian no matter what it took. He wouldn't let him down no matter how tired his own body became.

Campy could feel the heartbeat of the man, feel the limbs, cold from the time in the dungeon begin to warm against his body and he willed himself to burn more energy and comfort the Belgian as much as he could. He hoped that the two would soon leave their position by the gate so that they could get out, where he could fight at least rather than feel like trap rats buried in a hole. 

To be continued....