Saving Juliet Chapter Thirteen
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Saving Juliet Chapter Thirteen

A Really Bad Wedding

11
Saving Juliet Chapter Thirteen

The walk to Friar’ Lawrence’s cell was one of the longest of my life. The citizens of Verona saw the same fair, fragile maiden and her businesslike caretaker that they saw every day. How could we look so calm, so normal? I entered the Friar’s cell with the bitter taste of dread in my mouth. Romeo and Benvolio were already there, waiting. When Juliet spotted Romeo, she rushed toward him with overwrought sighs, and they greeted each other with nauseating passion. I turned away, feeling like I might actually be sick, and saw Benvolio coming towards me. I took a few uncertain steps in his direction. If I moved too quickly, I might break into a run and drag him out the door with me, and that would be the end of it.

He looked even more tired than before, but he still had that spark in his eyes. “You look beautiful, as always,” he said quietly.

I broke into a surprised smile. “Thank you. I’m really glad you’re here. How did Romeo convince you to come?”

Benvolio made a quiet sound of disgust. “He didn’t convince me. He dragged me out of bed and halfway across Verona before I realized what we were doing. It would serve him right if I fell asleep and snored through this act of insanity. I gave up when I heard about the pigeons, though. I have to give him credit for being resourceful, though.”

I covered my face with my hands and moaned. “Juliet almost fired me.”

“Oh? And this would be what, the fourth time now?”

“This time she was going to do it,” I said. “She thinks she doesn’t need me anymore. She won’t let me object anymore.”

He stopped smiling. “She hurt you, didn’t she?”

I nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’m sure there’s more where that came from.”

He reached out, wanting to embrace me, and then drew back apologetically. Juliet and Romeo were pretty oblivious, but there was always the chance that they weren’t completely blind. “You haven’t told her, have you?” he said quietly.

“No. Obviously, they wouldn’t tell on us, but she’s so fluff-brained she might let something slip accidentally. I’m not telling her unless I must. Does he know?”

Benvolio snorted. “Are you kidding? Even if I wanted to tell him, he doesn’t think about anything but Juliet. And himself. Don’t worry about not being able to object to the wedding. I’ll do enough objecting for the both of us.”

The friar cleared his throat. “Come along then, let’s get this over with.”

He led Romeo and Juliet to the tiny stained glass window, the only spot of beauty in that bare stone room. They knelt before him. Benvolio and I stood behind them, apart. For the hundredth time, I wondered if this was some bizarre nightmare.

Benvolio didn’t wait for Friar Lawrence to get started. “So you’re really going to go through with this, Romeo?” he asked, raising his eyebrow quizzically. “Really, you’re going to marry this girl you just met yesterday?”

The friar glared at him.

“Be quiet!” Romeo hissed. “What is wrong with you, dude?”

Benvolio shrugged. “You’re the one who dragged me here.”

“Out of respect for the divine offices of the Church, I request that you hold your tongue,” Friar Lawrence said.

“I make no promises,” Benvolio said. “Not today.”

The friar began the service. All I remember is that it was short. The friar came to the part about objections, looking extremely reluctant. “If anyone has any objection—”

Benvolio didn’t wait for him to finish. “Now that you mention it, I have several. Because I have several. First, as I mentioned previously, you two just met each other yesterday. How can you know that you love someone after only one day? Second, if—make that when—your parents find out about this they are literally going to kill us all. Third, what are you going to do for money after you’re married? You can’t live on love, you know. Also—”

“ENOUGH!” the friar said. “You young fool! Can’t you see that worse will come if I don’t bind them here and now?”

“No, I don’t see that at all,” Benvolio said. “They might actually learn self-control.”

The friar was beginning to turn purple. “You can’t stop it from happening. Either hold your peace, or take your leave.”

Hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion, Benvolio staggered. “Have it your way, then,” he said, the note of defeat in his voice making my heart ache. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about arguing with fools?”

Forget secrecy, I thought, hurrying over to him. I draped his arm around my shoulder and helped him stand, leaning against me. “What did those Capulets do to you?” I whispered.

He gave a weak laugh. “Capulets? It’s the Montagues that are killing me these days. Although the Capulets certainly aren’t helping. I guess a short lifetime of running around Verona is starting to get to me. Or it might be the jumping through windows.”

“Yes,” I said.

After a few moments, Benvolio was able to stand again, but he forgot to let go of me, so we stood there together, watching in defeat. The friar kept glaring at us as he continued to read the vows. What is this solemn, dangerous thing, marriage? It seemed only minutes before the dread words “man and wife,” fell upon my ears.

“Can we leave now?” Benvolio asked quietly, with only a hint of his usual biting irreverence.

This time, the friar ignored him. The man and wife, Romeo and Juliet, came together. Benvolio and I drifted towards the door. The Friar, unwilling to be a witness any longer, disappeared into some secret part of his rooms.

“I hate to leave you here like this,” Benvolio said, still keeping his voice low.

“I’ll manage,” I said. “Go rest. I know you’ll find me. Besides, I think the friar might excommunicate you if you stay any longer.”

“I can live with that,” he said, yawning. He gave me a great flourishing bow and went out into Verona.

I couldn’t decide whether to watch Romeo and Juliet or turn away. I kept stealing glances at them. Are we actually going to die? Exactly how long will it be until I’m fired by someone? After what seemed like an eternity, Juliet tore herself away from Romeo and joined me at the door. We walked back to the Capulet mansion in silence.

When we arrived at the garden gate—the gate where I’d found Benvolio last night—I turned to Juliet. “My lady, I beseech you, send me on some errand in the city, anything.”

Juliet laughed, still giddy. “Of course, my sweet nurse! Just be back before nightfall. I want you to—”

I took off into the city before she finished. I didn’t want to hear whatever she had to say, and I needed to talk to my mother. This disaster was more than I could handle. Everything went smoothly until I turned onto the street which held my family’s new apartment. Then I was surrounded by the Prince’s soldiers.

“This is the one!” one of them shouted. “Elena Carafa, you are under arrest!”

“For what?” I yelled as another soldier held me fast.

“For assaulting Tybalt Capulet,” the first soldier replied.

“No, please, you don’t understand—” I pleaded.

“We have our orders,” the first soldier said. “I have it on authority from the lady Rosaline. If you come along quietly, I’ll put you in one of the better cells.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered, struggling a little in the soldier’s grip.

It was a short walk to the Prince’s palace, which also housed the jail. Minutes later, I found myself alone in a filthy, dark cell. On the bright side, it didn’t appear to be infested with vermin. I sat down with my back against the wall and stared blankly into space.

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