ARROW - 108. Chapter 108

Morning came, along with 4 boys. “Get up Dad, Pop. We’re hungry.”

“Okay. Ask Tante Marie to take you down to the dining room. We’ll join you as soon as Pop gets dressed.

“Pop get’s dressed? How about yourself?”

“You always take longer. Colin, I was thinking about you leaving and being back on Saturday. I think it would be better if you left on Sunday. While you are home, we need to make a decision on Richie’s home. If I understand right, we have two bids, one from a contractor and one from a doctor who will be teaching at Richie’s dad’s college. I’ll check with Richie, but accept the bid from the doctor.”

“I thought we might move there.”

“That isn’t feasible. You would have to commute to work from there and sell the club.”

“I can’t sell the club. I would have to remove that wall with your mural. No, selling the club is out of the question. Okay, when I’m home I’ll notify the agent. You can notify Richie.”

“Let’s go and have breakfast. While we are downstairs, call the lawyer and tell him you are leaving Sunday night.”

Walking out of the room, there were four boys sitting on the floor outside of our door.

Walking past Mom and Dad’s room, I went to knock. “Dad, they are downstairs.”

“They went with Tante Marie.”

“Okay, let’s go or aren’t you hungry?”

“Look” Ronny had the elevator and was holding the door open.

“I guess they are hungry.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“I want to go and check out the Mona Lisa. I’m sure there is a flaw. I think the boys will be interested in the exhibits and I want to check out the paintings. Your mom said there is a new painting that is drawing a lot of attention. Remember tonight we have dinner at Andres.”

“You plan on taking the boys?”

“No, I’ll have Marie and the Grans do something.”

The Grans had seen the museum, Dads said they would meet us at the little cafe where they had lunch, the Mom s came with us. They said they would help Maria with the boys. I wasn’t sure if that was true.

Entering the Louvre was always exciting for me. The smell and knowing some of the works of the greatest artist of all time are being displayed was enough to intrigue me. I was aware that museums traded art on a loan basis. Thus one was able to see a painting by an artist normally shown in a museum in another country, in a museum close to their home. I’m sure the model for the Mona Lisa has traveled more now than when she was alive.

As I did when I first visited this museum with Colin, I let him lead the group. Only I didn’t expect it to take so long, he said the boys wanted to see all of the exhibits. I think he was the one who wanted to see all of the exhibits.

When they were finished, touching statues, Egyptian artifacts and sarcophagi, we headed to the painting.

Mona Lisa still had a flaw and now that I had seen the original, it didn’t matter that the painting on exhibit was a copy.

“Is it a copy?”

“Yes”

“Where?” I pointed to a section on the leaflet. “I would have never picked that up. I was looking where you pointed last time.”

“I think that painting is the real one.” I turned and look at the man who said it.

“Jean” In true French manner, hugs all around.

“Did you find it?”

“I whispered yes, but I saw the real painting, I’m satisfied.”

“Did you just arrive?”

“No, Colin and the boys have toured the exhibits and my Mom’s have been here earlier this week. This is a good friend of ours and I’m sure she has been here before.”

Marie was an attractive woman and close to Jean’s age. So it was no surprise when she was offered a private tour. I told her to take it and we would be in the artist’s section.

“If you see a group of students around a painting, look there. Armand will be holding class.”

I laughed, “When we were here the last time, there where students copying the various paintings.”

“And someone made a comment to me, overheard by the students, then it was questions and answers for the next three days. But it was fun.”

As we entered the section where the various paintings where on exhibit, I saw it. I started to laugh, looking at Colin’s mother, “You knew this?”

“Yes, before Jean left he paid me to send it to him. I was surprised to see it as you are.”

“Remember me telling you about this directors and one who was into cubism and artists painting their perspective. This is the cleaning cloth we used to clean our paint brushes. The Professor hung it in the gallery to test these critiques.”

“So this isn’t a painting?”

“No. When we are finish painting, we need to clean our brushes. Otherwise, we would be spending all our money on buying new brushes. Here come two students.”

(In French) “If this is an example of an American artist, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“Let’s ask these people what they think.”

“Excuse me, I am having an argument with my friend about this painting. I say it was done by an amateur and should not be here among the masters. He disagrees and we have decided to let you be the judge. What do you think?”

The young lady looked at it, “I think the artist was confused about something and expressed his confusion in this painting. I noticed there is no logic to it, when one is confused there is no logic because of his mental confusion.”

“Interesting. And you young man, what do you think.”

“I’m not a student of art, but it looks like a cleaning rag to me.”

That started an argument between the two of them. And then I heard, “Armand”. Looking in the direction of the voice, there was one of our friends from when Colin and I were here a few years ago.

The French have a way of welcoming friends, particularly if they haven’t see you for a while. Try that in the States and you would end up on the floor.

Then it was like we never left. The two students just looked on. Luis turned to them, “Do you know who you have been talking with?”

They shook their heads, no. Luis went on to explain who we were and when he met us.

“Armand, have you seen your painting?”

“You mean this one?”

“That is a cleaning rag. Jean told us about the experience. No, the one that arrived a few weeks ago. Armand, I have come here everyday to look at it. What sensitivity and feeling. The University staff have been here to see it. Come I’ll show you where it is hanging?”

I was curious. Looking at Colin’s mom, she just smiled. The Louvre shows paintings in a series of rooms. They are aware that many students visit to copy the styles of the various artists on display. I did it when I first came to Paris as well. Following Luis, we approached a room where there was a guard. I thought this must be a fantastic find for the artist to have his own room with a guard. Walking into the room, I saw the frame before seeing the painting.

The title was Desolation, Desperation. It was the painting of the abandonment of a child. The feeling I had when I painted it, came over me again. I had tears in my eyes and I didn’t care who saw it. Colin handed me his handkerchief.

“Armand, why?”

I just looked at Luis, I couldn’t speak. Colin to the rescue, “Luis, we were at an orphanage when he saw a child of 11 months. He asked about the child and the Director told us she was abandoned. That is the child and the mother.” I left the room.

I thought I would never see that painting again. I was hoping I would never see that painting again and here it is in the Louvre.

“Armand” “Mom, why didn’t you tell me the Louvre bought that painting. If I had known I wouldn’t have came here.”

“Armand, the world needs to see this. They need to know that there are children that need help. Young mothers who get trapped and can’t raise a child and can’t leave them to die. Most of those girls have the child without any one being present, in an alley or an abandon building. This painting needs to be seen. The world needs to see it.”

“Armand”

“Jean, he is upset about the painting.”

“Armand, I would have told you, Roger said not to. I’m sorry to see you so upset. But the painting has a message that the world must see.”

Colin and Luis joined us. “Armand, come and let’s finish the tour. There are other paintings to see.”

I got up, looked toward the room as a group of people where led into the room by a guide.

“Armand, do you remember that small cafe where we sat and drank wine? Let’s meet there tonight. I’ll round up some of the old gang.”

“What time Luis? We’ll be there.”

Now I had the boys next to me. “Luis, this is my family.” I introduced my mother and Colin’s mother. “These are our sons,” which I introduce them also.

“Four boys?”

“Yes and I’m proud of them.” I knew that Colin would tell him about adopting them from an orphanage.

The boys spoke to Luis in French. He was amazed. “Most Americans speak only English, but you all speak French.”

The was when Richie said, “We also speak Spanish and Italian.” (He said that in French.)

I wanted to see what other paintings the Louvre added since my last visit. Jean was glad to show me. I tried to get that painting out of my head, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Leaving the Louvre, I reminded Jean about dinner at Andre’s tonight. “I’ll pick you up at 6:30.”

Late dinners in France are more of a social affair than a dinner.

We walked to where the Dad’s were. As I got closer, I could hear Colin’s dad talking about America. Rounding the corner, they were sitting outside with two American couples and two French couples. The American couples I had seen in the dining room at our hotel. The French couple, I had no idea who they were. There were two vacant tables, the boys took one, we took the other. Dad was so busy talking he hadn’t noticed us.

The waiter came out, we ordered wine and the boys had a coke. One by one they came to our table for a sip of wine. I told the waiter to give the check to that American who was talking. He did, Dad looked at it. He must have said something to the waiter, he pointed to us, and that is when the Dad’s noticed us.

Then we had to be introduced to their guests. Finishing our wine, the ladies decided they want to take a rest before dinner. I asked the boys if they wanted to go or stay with Colin and I. I explained that we were going to meet some old friends and they would be welcome to stay or go back to the hotel with Tante Marie. I think they wanted to stay but the grandparents, with Marie’s help, convince them to come with them. Something about you don’t want to listen to old stories, I heard Dad whisper they aren’t true anyway.

As they got up to leave, Luis arrived with some of the old gang. Then it was reminiscing time. That convinced the boys to leave. I had to introduce everyone first.

Then Luis started with, do you remember. We sat there drinking wine until Jean came in his car to pick us up. “I went to the hotel. They told me you where here.”

“I’m sorry Jean. Old friends need to catch up.” Before leaving we made arrangements to meet the coming Friday at the Train Station.

“Armand, you know that this coming Friday is tomorrow.” I didn’t know. I needed to get that painting out of my mind.

“It’s okay. I was thinking about stopping at the Train Station, and seeing what new paintings they have.” I was sure they wouldn’t have any paintings of mine.