ARROW - 109. Chapter 109

I was glad that I had stretched out my refills. If I had drank as much as Luis, heavens know what a mess I would have gotten myself into with Andre. I was glad Colin drank less than me. Arriving at Andre’s home reminded me of the first time I was here. I wondered if he still had GG’s painting.

“Do you have your camera?”

“Yes. It’s small enough I can carry in my pocket. Are you going to paint a portrait of his son?”

“Yes. He’s been a friend and I know he has bought some of my paintings. I’m sure he bought the one in the Louvre.”

Walking to the front door, it opened as if it was automatic. “I have been waiting for you. My father is in his office, he said to call him when you arrived.”

“Your father wants me to paint your portrait. Before we leave tonight, I need to take some photos of you. I’m not sure how you want your portrait painted. If you know, I would like to take photos of you dressed as you and your father agree.”

“Armand, what if he wants a naked photo?”

“I don’t think so. He’s very thin and a naked painting would just make that more obvious. I only painted one naked portrait and I’ll do no others.”

Walking and talking not paying attention, we were at Andre’s office door. His son tapped lightly, then we heard ‘Entre'’.

Opening the door, I was embraced again along with Colin. “You did not bring the children?”

“No, we met with the woman who helped to raised Richard, he wanted to spend some time with her.”

“Dinner will be ready soon. I understand you saw your painting today and you were quite upset.”

“Yes. I painted that painting when I wasn’t in a good mood. The idea of a parent giving up her child was a horrible idea to me. How could she do it? While painting that painting, thoughts went from my mind to my brush. To think in America, one of the richest countries, that such an act could occur because of necessity, was very hard for me to accept. Since I have been associated with the orphanage where my sons have come from, I have seen the ugly America. I’m sorry, too much wine this afternoon. I met up with some students that Colin and I met the first time we were here.”

“Have you agreed to paint my son?”

“Yes. I’ll take some photos of him and then when I get home, I’ll paint the portrait and have it sent to you.”

“Can we set a fee now?”

“No, once the painting is finished, you can send me what you think it is worth. I’ll not set a price.”

‘You have done portraits before haven’t you?”

“Yes, but it is my understanding you want a full body portrait. The ones I have done before have been bust portraits.”

A sip of wine and dinner was announced.

Having dinner with these two friends was always interesting. We discussed the cleaning rag painting that Roger posted. “I just had to have that. When Jean and I agreed to post it in the Louvre as a joke, we were surprised at the comments. Seems like there are a few more fools than we anticipated.”

“I remember that man. Where was he from? I never thought to ask and after you all left, I forgot to ask Roger.”

“I’m not sure. Jean do you know?”

“No, with his accent I thought British but the more he spoke, I thought maybe Denmark or Sweden. He certainly wasn’t from here or Italy. I have known those men for a long time. That reminds me, Jean have you shown Armand those paintings from that young man in northern Italy?”

“No, maybe before you leave, you can stop over and I’ll show them to you. You don’t have any here do you Andre?”

“No, I think there were three and you have them.”

“Maybe this coming Monday I’ll stop over. Colin is leaving me for a few days to attend to some business back home.”

‘Great, let’s plan on it.”

When you are talking and eating, you never notice the time. Andre’s chef must have been a graduate of a Le Cordon Bleu, the food was delicious but I knew I won’t remember what we ate, too much wine.

After dinner, drinking brandy, which I do very seldom these days, I asked Andre’s son to dress as he wanted his painting. While he did this, Andre told us he would be getting married this fall, I think he said September.

When his son returned, he was dressed as if he step out of time. He was dressed in a military outfit that must have been in the service of the last king of France. I looked at Colin. I surmised that Andre was wealthy and now I realized his family was connected to France’s royalty at one time.

“That was my uniform when I was his age. And before that my fathers. It has been in the family since the time before Napoleon. Hopefully it will be passed on to my grandsons. Come with me and I’ll show you some old family portraits.”

Andre led us to a room that looked like a ballroom ,only now it was a library. Along the top of the book shelves, were paintings of his family, all of them dressed as his son was dressed now.

Looking at the painting of Andre, “You were a dashing young man. Laughing, how many wives did you have? Dressed like that you certainly were entertained by the elegible ladies.”

He laughed, “In my day there was no wooing, as you Americans say. My wife was chosen for me as I have chosen my son’s.”

I would have said this was very unusual if not strange, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Colin handed me his camera.

“I need to take some very close photos, please hold still.”

I knew it’s uncomfortable to have someone at nose length taking photos. I shot several angles, some at random, and before he could say his name I was finish. Then I had him posed as the other paintings. It didn’t take long, but the face was most important.

“Andre, I’ll have it finished before the wedding.” While I was in the room, I looked at the various frames.

“Andre, as you know I create my own frames. May I do that with his painting even if it is different than the types here?” I said this while his son had left to change out of the uniform.

“Yes and if the family say anything, I’ll say you insisted. Then I’ll give them your address.”

“Colin, we need to find a new home.”

One last drink and then we headed home. I was glad I didn’t have to drive. I had drank more than I thought and as we were driving, I fell asleep.

“I was surprised his reaction to that painting in the Louvre.”

“When he was painting that painting, I was afraid for him. The idea of a girl having to give up their child with the hope he or she will be given a chance at life, was difficult for him. In some ways he is a child in the world of men. He looks at things differently then I do and most people. He seems to see deeper, the paintings reflect those feelings. I’m not a painter or a student of the arts, so a lot of it I don’t understand. But I love him, and I’ll see that he is protected and I’ll give him whatever he wants.”

“He seems to very involved with this orphanage.”

“He is, three of our sons came from there. They call him Uncle. The City wants the ground where the orphanage is located, he was ready to be David and the City was Goliath. I bought some ground and now we are constructing a new orphanage. It will be done by the time we get home.”

“If your apartment was larger, would he want to adopt more children?”

“Yes I’m sure. Richard’s family has a beautiful home but it is too far from work for us. So I heard that the land behind the current orphanage is for sale. I’m going to buy it and have Richard’s home reconstructed there. The next time you visit us, you will stay there.”

“You seem willing to do anything for him. Does he know that?”

“No, he thinks it is a joint decision. You remember our roof at the club? In the evening after the boys are in bed, we sit there and discuss what is happening. He’ll say, I wish we could give the kids a Christmas they will never forget. I would take that wish, drop a few hints and he will come up with something. This past Christmas, he wanted to take the kids to see Santa. So I arranged with a department store to make Santa available. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, the kids or him.”

“You are a lucky man.”

“Jean, you never married?”

“Yes, I was married once. My wife died of cancer and I had no interest if finding another. The Louvre is my wife now.”

Looking at Jean, he was a handsome man and I’m sure he would have no trouble of finding another woman if he desired.

“Are we home yet?”

“Welcome to the world of the living. We’ll be home in less than 5 minutes.” I had just finish saying that when we pulled up to the hotel entrance.

Thanking Jean, making plans on seeing him again before we left Paris, I half carried Armand to the elevator. Reaching our room, I undressed him, wrestled to get his pajama bottoms on, tucked him in. I took a shower, then I was snuggled up against him as I fell asleep.

Morning came, our four boys, awoke me, not sure about Armand. “Pop, move over.” Four boys joined us in bed. I checked thinking they were dressed for the day, but they weren’t. We fell back to sleep. The next interruption was Maria.

“I have been looking all over for the boys. I knew you got in late last night so I didn’t think to check here.”

“It’s okay Maria. Why don’t you go and have breakfast with our parents if they are up. We’ll be down in a little while.”

I knew Armand needed more sleep and looking at the boys, they also needed more sleep.

I showered and dressed for the day. Armand was still sleeping but the boys were awake. “Hungry?” Every time I ask that question I think to myself, why do I ask that, they are always hungry. “Let’s leave Dad sleep. I’m hungry.”

I must have looked like the Pied Piper, the boys didn’t walk beside me , they were in line behind me.

Entering the dining room, the boys began looking for Marie and the Grands. I saw them in a corner, pointed them out to the boys, they headed toward them. As usual the Grands made a fuss over them. They must have asked where were are Armand and I. I saw them point to me as I got a cup of coffee and headed toward them.

“Good morning. It is a good morning?”

“Yes, it is a good morning.”

“Where is Armand?”

“He’s still sleeping.”

“He was very upset about that painting. I didn’t think he would be.”

“That painting reminds him of the unwanted child he was holding at Thanksgiving. The concept that a woman has to give up her child in order for that child to live was very disturbing to him.”

“Even as a child he seemed sensitive to the suffering of others. I don’t know how many cats and dogs he would find and feed.”

“Then I had to take them to the pound. There was a young boy who had a severe accident. When he heard that he might not live, he was upset. The boy went to his school.”

“How was your dinner last night?”

“It was quite good. Armand thinks his chef was a graduate of Cordon Bleu.”

“What is that name of that woman on TV who is also a graduate of that school? She is always showing how to skin a chicken.”

“Julia Child. There are a lot of cooking shows now.”

“Have you ever tried any of those recipes.” Now I waited to see what my mother would say. She has our maid do all of our cooking.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

“You left me alone.”

“You needed the sleep. Here drink this and I’ll get another cup of coffee.” Before he had taken a sip, four boys needed their hug.

“Dad, you okay?”

“Yes, I think I drank too much wine last night.”

I looked at him, he was smiling as if all is right in the world today. The rest of the morning, we sat and chatted as a family.

“I plan on going the Train Station this afternoon.”

“Why? Where are we going now by train.”

“Dad, the Train Station is an art museum, Musee d'Orsay. It was once a train station, Gare d'Orsay, that was turned into an art museum. The art there is more modern.”

“Like the cleaning rag.”

“Yes, a lot of Picasso is there. It’s different and not my chosen style. They do have a few paintings that reflect the old masters.”

When Armand went to the buffet, “Colin, there is one of his paintings there.”

“Do you remember which one?”

“No. But I don’t think he will be upset.”

“Armand, what time where you going to meet your friends?”

“Our friends, between one and two.”

“Colin, you know these friends as well?”

“Yes, Mom. I met them when Armand and I where here when we got married. All they talk about is art. Actually they argue a lot. When I first met them they were students and our graduated master painter was leading them down his golden path. Armand were any of them into cubism?”

“No as far as I remember. Our arguments were concerning the medium used and whether we agreed with other critiques. I call it learning with loud voices over a bottle of wine. Why don’t you come with us?”

“I don’t think I am in the mood.”

“Dad, you can sit at the cafe and enjoy a glass of wine while we tour the museum.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Colin, is your dad okay?”

“Yes, I think being way from the business this long is bothering him.”

“Maybe he should go back with you.”

“He may not want to return?”

“Tell him”

“Dad, I am planning on flying home on Sunday night and returning on Tuesday night. I have a meeting with the City Council concerning the orphanage. If I don’t go, the kids from the orphanage won’t have a place to go. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Have you been in contact with your lawyer?”

“Yes, that is why I’m going.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Whispering, “Colin, include him in your plans. He’ll go with you.” I’m not sure about him returning, but maybe if he sees that the business is doing okay, he will relax a little.

“I’ll be right back.” Colin left and I knew he was going to make travel arrangements for his dad.

Our breakfast took most of the morning. The other Americans came and joined us. Now we heard laughter from the older folks.

Marie, what do you have planned for the boys this morning?”

She laughed, “The morning is almost over. We are going to the Notre Dame Cathedral. I have the book used for the movie, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. So they can read it after seeing the church.”

“Is the church open? It was closed so it could be repaired.”

“You can see the tower from the street and I believe there are one or two gargoyles can be seen as well. We can meet with you at the Train Station for lunch.”

“Perfect. Boys, be careful of the Hunchback ringing those bells. They are very loud.”

Richie whispered in my ear, when he hugged me goodbye, “Dad, I know there is no hunchback.”

I laughed, “Smarty” I gave the boys some money in case they were thirsty. I watched as they gave it to Marie to hold for them.

“Armand, are you here?”

“Yes, I was watching the boys. I wonder if knowing they are somewhat alone in the world has bonded them more than natural brothers.”

“They are not alone and they know it. When you are sad, they are quick to know it and try to make you feel better. That is a reflection of love, not knowing that they were orphans rescued by you.”

“When you are home, see our friendly judge. We are going to adopt Ivan.”

The Grans looked at me. I didn’t really care what they thought, it was the right thing to do.

“If you decide to join us, we will meet you at the Le Peloton Cafe at I pm. The address is 106 Rue de Turenne.” I wrote the address done and gave it to Colin’s dad. “Just give the address to the taxi driver.”

“Walk or cab?”

“Moms, coming with us or later with the Dads?”

“I’m coming with you.” “Me too”

Taking one of the cab’s in front of the hotel, we headed to the Train Station.

Colin and I had been there before so approaching the museum wasn’t new to us. But to strangers or first time visitors, seeing the train platform and a train on the partial tracks, was confusing.

Walking into the station was similar to arriving at a station. Instead of a ticket counter, there was the museum admission counter. A sign stated the amount per ticket with a comment that any contribution would be appreciated. In a city with a museum like the Louvre, competition for government support was low on the list. The museum had a place in the art world as an introduction of new artists.

“This museum will have some famous artists but mostly those who have shown possibilities.” The museum has essential two floors which contain only art, no exhibits of structures or interesting artifacts.

Walking the first floor exhibit, I saw one painting that showed some promise. It was a mixture between old style and, what I called, Picasso style. I was sure I wouldn’t have combines styles but this artist was able to show it could be done. The painting was a man walking though a kaleidoscope of Picasso style art. I must have stood there longer than I thought.

(In French) “What is your opinion of this artist.”

I think I jumped a little when he spoke. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You painted this?”

“Yes, what is your opinion?”

“I think you were very clever in this painting. I prefer the style of the Masters as to the style of Picasso. Here you have manage to paint both on one canvas. This is very clever. If I was your instructor I would give you a high mark.”

The painting was clever, but as I said, not my style. Then I heard my name.

“Luis, you’re early. What do you think of this painting?”

“I don’t like it. It represents two styles of painting although he has combined them cleverly. I don’t see any growth potential in this type of painting. What did you think of it?”

“I thought it was clever. This is the artist. I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

“My name is Jules.”

“Jules it is my pleasure to know you. My name is Armand and this guy is my friend Luis.”

“Jules, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Jules, come with us and later this afternoon I’ll buy you lunch.”

So from four we were now six. Introductions were made, and by the time we reached the next room, we were friends.

“Armand, look.”

I started to laugh, there was my painting of the little girl from the orphanage feeding the lamb at the zoo.

“Mom, how many of my paintings have you sold to museums?”

“I don’t know. This was sold to a client who saw the photo.”

Now Jules looking at the painting saw the arrow. “You pained this?”

“Shhh, not so loud.”

Luis started to laugh. “Jules, your painting has been judge by no other than Arrow himself.”

The French can be very emotional. Jules grabbed in a hug, doing the cheek kissing. He was beside himself. My mom was looking at me as if she just realized that my paintings were highly regarded.

“Jules, let’s keep this our secret, okay.”

From that moment on he was beside me as we finished the tour.

“Armand, let’s go. Our friends will think we forgot them.” The six of us headed to the cafe where we would meet up with our Dads and friends.

“It sounds as if they had already a good head start.”

Arriving at the cafe, everyone was sitting outside. It seemed like the Dads were holding court and the wine had flowed easily.

“What is happening?”

“Sit down and listen to Colin and Armands fathers tell us tales of these two.”

“Did you know that Armand painted a naked picture of Colin.”

Then if got quiet, they recognized a new person with us. Luis did the introductions and explained about Jules unique painting style. I was glad that he didn’t voice his or mine opinion.

In 15 minutes or less, Jules was a part of the group.

Mother’s prevailed, we had to have something to eat. I truly believe that this cafe made more sales this afternoon than any other time this year.

No one pays attention to time when friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time get together. So much history needs to be discuss and when are we going to meet again.

I knew it was getting late when Marie showed up with the boys. Now I had to introduce our sons to my friends and Marie as well. We ended up staying until almost bed time for the boys.

I called a cab for Marie and the boys and one for the moms and dads. Colin and I decided to walk back, only when the group heard that, we had an entourage head to our hotel. We had to stop on occasion to refill our glasses.

Arriving at our hotel, they insisted we have a night cap. Looking at Colin, “Night cap, after all the wine we drank we need several cups of coffee.”

We stayed there until the bar closed.

Going to our room, “Don’t wake me in the morning.”