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 - 202. Chapter 202
Sitting around the kitchen table, “Jean, I want to make a frame that I can attach to the stone. I’ll need 12 stainless bolts with a screw-type ending. They need to be at least 1 and 1/2 inches in diameter and 1O inches long. I’ll make an oak frame which I will attach to the building, Once that is done, I’ll attach the painting to that frame.”
“Dad, we could do that in the museum's basement.”
“We could do everything except attach the frame to the mausoleum and the painting to the frame. We could mark the painting frame where we attach it to the building frame. Tomorrow we will get the materials and start.”
“Is anyone hungry?” That was a hint to Chef Boy.
For the next four days, a frame was constructed for hanging the painting. Bolt holes were drilled. The corner bolt holes were matched to the frame of the painting. several coats of lacquer were applied to the frame. “Jean, t think we are ready to bolt the support frame to the mausoleum. I’ll need a drill to cut through the stone and two-part epoxy glue,”
“What are your plans?”
“I’m going to hang this frame. After I drill into the face of the mausoleum, I’ll place the bolts and secure them with epoxy glue. When the frame is secure, then we can attach the painting.”
That evening, “Do you remember the worker who picked us up a couple of times? He has volunteered to help you.”
“That would be great, but I will need to p[ay him.”
“What part of volunteering did you not hear?”
I heard what Jean said but I would pay him something.
“By the way, how are you doing with the passport.”
“I forgot to show you. Here”
I took the envelope, it contained his papers as well as a new passport. Chef Boy’s future is about to turn for the better.
The next morning, after Chef Boy’s breakfast, we headed out to the mausoleum. Jean and I rode in the cab, the boys rode in the back.
Arriving at the mausoleum, I was surprised to see Christian.
“I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Roger told me you would be here. I came to see if I could help.”
Before I could say anything, Carl asked to be let in the mausoleum. He said he had a project to finish.
Looking at him, I winked. I knew what his project was, another angel painted on a resting place.
With the help of Jean and his worker, it didn’t take long to get the ladders in place. With a level and white chalk, I marked where I would drill. I need four spots across the top and bottom, two spots on each side.
Using a level and a tape measure I started marking the spots for the bolts. Jean’s maintenance man began to drill the holes. I measured the first hole, it needs a little more. I marked one of the bolts, and from that point on, he drilled while I marked the spot. He was fast, much faster than me. I showed him how to place the first bolt, making sure the hole contained the epoxy. Now he drilled the hole and set the bolts.
I looked at Jean, he was fast, I watched as he placed the last bolt. I still had 6 more bolts to be placed. “Take a break. You are too fast for me.” He laughed as he climbed down his ladder
I marked the last section, he was already going up the ladder.
“Jean, who is he?”
“His name is Allard. He came to me about 8 years ago looking for a job. I had two men leave, one retired and the other took ill. It turned out to be terminal. So I hired him. After 6 months working for me, I realized I didn’t need to fill the other job.”
“I’m going to pay him for helping.”
“He will be mad.”
“Not at me, I’ll be home. He’s saved me a day. After the glue dries, I can hang the frame, then in the morning I’ll check the frame if it is as solid as I hope, and I’ll hang the painting.”
We were sitting in the grass watching Allard. He was moving fast.
“Look, we are working and they are loafing.” I pointed the top of the mausoleum at Allard.
“Dad, come and look at Grandfathers sleeping place.”
I got up, and told Jean and Christian I was asked to judge a painting. Now the three of us headed inside. I looked at Carl, “You did a great job, but it is the wrong crypt.” Then I grabbed him in a hug, “Brilliant. He is going to be so proud. Don’t look now but Christian has tears in his eyes.”
“Dad, Charles helped.’
I looked for him, he was standing alone behind us. I quickly went up and grabbed him in a hug. He was surprised. There were tears in his eyes.
“Dad, can I tell him?”
I nodded yes, then I saw the tears as he ran outside. Carl ran after him. I don’t know what they were talking about.
“You told him?”
“No, Carl did.”
“How did he know?”
“I guess he had faith in you. He knows we will be going home soon so since I haven’t said anything, I suspect he assumed it was fait accompli.”
Waking outside, looking at the building, thinking tomorrow Michael will be looking back.
“What time should I bring Dad?”
“If Allard could get the painting here, I’d like to have it hung by noon, the sun will shine on Michael. Don’t be surprised if the bluebird flies. So have him here between 11 and noon.”
Heading home, I rode with Allard, Jean went with Christian. “I appreciated your help today.”
“I enjoyed working with you. My dad was a carpenter. As I got older, I went with him to his jobs. I learned a lot from him. When he died, I applied at the museum and I was hired. I have been treated well. But working on your project has been a great experience for me.”
“Bring your family tomorrow morning. They can watch us hang the painting.” I’m not sure he heard the last bit.
Arriving home, I looked up at Carl’s angel remembering his painting of the crypts. Smiled, and I heard the creaking of the rocker,
Walking into the living room, I was alone. The boys had gone with Christian. I decided to pack, I called and made reservations for a morning flight. Then I called home, Colin wasn’t home but I spoke with Marie, I told her I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. I gave her my flight data.
It was good to hear her voice, I was getting homesick. I knew I’ll have to make another trip back soon but that will be quick although sad. I was getting old and losing friends and family just reminded me of my age.
I heard a car stop, the door opened and the boys were back with two stragglers, Roger and Jean. “Dad, Uncle Roger, and Uncle Jean had too much wine. They were singing on the way home.”
“Maybe some food will help. Chef Boy, while you start dinner, I’m going to get some bread and pastries, I think we will have coffee instead of wine.”
I left to get the bread and pastries at the patisserie, and for some unknown reason, I went to see Grandmere’s sleeping place. Standing there, looking at where she is sleeping, I heard ‘Bless you, son’. Looking around there was no one, no creaking rocking chair, and yet I heard that as clear as they were standing next to me. Saying Amen, I left and headed to the patisserie.
Walking into the kitchen with the bread and pastries. “Where is Roger and Jean?”
“They said they were going to wash up for supper.’
“I’ll bet they fell asleep. Let’s eat. They can reheat something if they are hungry.”
“How did you become a painter?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t my intention. I liked to draw and then one night in my sleep a woman in a rocking chair told me I could be a painter. So for several weeks she would visit at night and tell me stories. One day I told my mother. We looked through old photos, and there she was. My mother said she was her grandmother's grandmother. So after that, I called her GG. She taught me everything I know about painting.”
“And now you are teaching me.”
“Yes, but in time you will be better than me. Listen to Grandmother in the rocker.”
- 16
- 25
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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