Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
ARROW - 201. Chapter 201
The sun had set, and we were still at the restaurant. Jean met up with us. I was interested in what he had found. “Later tonight. We have a guest at the museum. Let’s go and you have a job tonight.”
Saying good night to my friends, we headed back to the Louvre. I knew who my friends were, Christian, Roger, and Arnaud. We entered through the employee entrance, “Go quietly “
We more or less tipped toed to the third floor, looking down on the three of them. All I heard, was magnificent, repeated several times. Christian stood behind his dad with his hands on his shoulder, Arnaud was kneeling at the kneeler. Roger was beside Christian. He kept looking up at where we stood. We kept in the shadow, and when I saw Roger looking up, I waved. He didn’t see me but the wave was enough.
“Roger, where are the creators of this masterpiece?”
“They are around. They are probably getting their equipment to put another coat on the painting.”
Hearing that, we went to Jean’s office and got out supplies.
Walking downstairs toward the painting, we were laughing at this morning. Arnaud stood up and turned to us. Tears in his eyes, “Why are you crying?”
He didn’t answer, but as I got nearer, he grabbed me in a hug and just held on. I gave what supplies I had to Roger and hugged him back. I think I was holding him up from falling.
Whispering, “Arnaud, it is the best we could do. My son helped me.”
He looked at me and I knew why. I pointed to the painting, Carl had started to apply the lacquer to the top of the painting. We watched for a while, “Arnaud, I need to go and help him. Wait here until I am done and then we can talk.”
He went back toward the kneeler but before he could kneel. Jean had a chair for him to sit in. If Carl and I did nothing more, we made an old friend happy.
With the two of us, it didn’t take long to apply the fourth coat. Two more and it will be ready for shipment to the mausoleum.
We rode home with Christian and invited them in but Arnaud wanted his bed. So he said.
That evening as Chef Boy cooked our dinner with his helper, we sat in the living room, reviewing Arnaud’s comments.
“I expected him to fall when he first saw the painting.”
“He would have if Christian wasn’t there. He told him to kneel at the kneeler to take the weight off his legs.”
“He lost a lot of weight. It felt like a young boy when he was in my arms. I’m glad he saw the painting. I would have hated to have it hung without him seeing it. We still have the issue of lighting.”
“I’ll speak to Christian tomorrow. For a short time, we might use batteries to power some light.”
I kept thinking there has to be electricity somewhere close to the Mausoleum. This was a city park and they would need lanterns to show the way in the evening and at night.
Tomorrow the boys and I are going to check out the park.
Early in the morning after Chef Boy made breakfast, Christian came for Roger. “Christian, could you give us a ride to the mausoleum? I need to make some measurements.”
“I’ll take you there after I drop Roger off at home.”
“Jean, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to see if I can get a passport.”
“Are”t you going to need a photo?”
“I have one.”
Dropping Roger off at Arnaud’s, we decided to go in and say hello.
Walking into his bedroom, he was sitting up, chatting with the nurse, and seemed to be enjoying himself. He was telling the nurse about Saint Michael.
Roger was the first one in, and then it was the story of Saint Michael. The first question is, “When is he going thang it?”
“Ask him yourself.”
Carl, Chef Boy, and I entered the room. He had to introduce us as the artists who created his Michael.
“Well?”
“I have asked Christian to drive us to the Mausoleum. I need to take some measurements, then if all goes well, Saint Michael will be looking at you from on high..”
I began to wonder if he was ill and dying. He reacted as if someone had given him a tonic. There were no questions, he was as excited as I've ever seen him. More excited than the paintings I made of Christian and his family. We stay long enough to have a small glass of wine.
Leaving, “Arnaud, the next glass we will share with Michael.”
He was smiling, chatting with the nurse and Roger. “I will drink no more wine until I do with Michael.”
Christian drove us to the mausoleum. “Christian, I’ll need a ladder. You don’t have one here do you?”
“No, I’ll go back to town and get one for you.”
While Christian was gone, I told the boys how I was going to mount Michael. “I want you to check the park for any electrical outlets. Some parks have lamps for people to see in the evening. See if there are any along the paths. Carl put your brushes and paint here. You’ll have time over the next few days to do your project.” That got me a hug.
While I waited for Christian to return, I began to check out the stone. It was old and I wanted to make sure that the frame holding Michael wouldn’t fall due to the crumbling stone. As I was poking the stone with a stick I found, “Here, use this.”
“Jean, when did you get here.”
“Just now. I met Christian in town, he told me he was looking for a ladder, I took one from the museum and came with him.”
“Let me tell you my concern. With that stick, I was able to remove some of the soft face stones. I need to know how far I must drill into the stone to hit the solid stone. Otherwise, the painting could fall.”
“How are you going to hang it?”
“I’m going to build a frame that will. Be attacked to the stone. The painting will be attached to the frame.”
“You can make the frame at the Louvre.”
Christian and Jean held the ladder while I climbed to test the rock. The boys came back, they said there were no lamps in the area covered by the park.
“Dad, can I start my project.”
“Yes, ask Uncle Christian to let you in.”
After they left to open the door and entered the mausoleum, Jean wanted to know what was the boy’s project. I told him, then he wanted to see.
“They just started, we’ll check it out before we leave. Now hold the ladder steady.”
As I suspected, I would need to drill at least 5 inches into the stone to anchor the frame. Now I needed a drill.
I came down from the ladder and told Jean what I found and how far I would have to drill to mount the frame support for the painting.
“So it won’t be today or tomorrow.”
“No, if I can get the frame up, it can be mounted in a few hours.”
“What are you going to do about the light?”
“I don’t know. We need to think about it.”
“Here comes Christian/‘
“What’s so funny.”
“He painted an angel with a blue bird on one of the crypts.”
“I think he intends to paint something on your dad’s crypt.”
“No one cares about the crypt at the end of the line, but Dad’s. Old Uncle Henri, will be up in arms.”
“Tell him he can have one for 10,000 euros.”
“He will think Dad paid that.”
“When will he see the crypt.”
“Probably when Dad is laid to rest.”
“Let him think what he wants, He can’t harm your dad, Saint Michael will protect him.”
We headed back to Arnaud’s.
Walking into the home, “Armand, what are you going to tell Dad?”
“The truth.”
Walking into Arnaud’s bedroom, I could see the excitement in his eyes. “Is it mounted?”
“No, the stone needs some reinforcement. If I mounted ut now in a few months it would fall. I am going to the Louvre workshop and make a frame to mount their painting on. If all goes well, Saint Michael will be guarding those that sleep there. I’ll stop by each evening and bring you u[p to date.”
I knew he was disappointed but Christian can explain the problem. Now I needed to go home. I have some work to do.
- 18
- 24
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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