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- 03/07/2022
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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 - 11. Chapter 11
Walking to the restaurant, “Colin, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t take those girls, and they behaved like savages and had no respect for anyone.”
“You don’t need to apologize. They have been doing that for so long, I just accepted it. I’m glad you opened my eyes. Just think, if anyone else invited a friend there, how they would have reacted. Let’s have a nice dinner.”
Walking into the French restaurant, the Maitre’d recognized Colin. “Monsieur Roberts, it is nice to see you again.”
“Good evening Andre. It has been a while since I have eaten here with my parents, and there will only be the two of us this evening.”
The boys followed Andre to a quiet table. “Bon Soir, my name is Francois, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. May I suggest a wine?”
“Colin, I prefer sparkling water.” Colin looked at Francois.
“May I suggest a Perrier?”
“Do you have Quezac?”
“Oui. Monsieur”
“We’ll have that, chilled but no ice.”
Colin just looked at Armand. “What, I drank that in France and liked it.”
“Okay, you order for us.”
“You have to promise to eat what I order, or at least try it.”
Colin agreed, smiling.
When Francois came back with their water, Armand gave Francois their order. “Francois, we will start with escargots a la Provencale, then darn Je saumen, followed by lemon sorbet. For our main course, we will have pouter sauce chasseur with a salad vert.”
“What did you order? I didn’t know you spoke French?”
“While I was at Carnegie Tech, I spent the summer in France. I spent each of the four summers in Europe, England, Italy, and Spain. I visited the art museums, studying techniques and styles.”
“Does that mean you speak Italian and Spanish as well?”
“Spending three months and staying with families, you learn the languages, particularly if your host refuses to speak English.”
“I thought there would be people in these countries that could speak English.”
“I’m sure there are, but I wanted to experience the country, and I thought it would help me to understand the artists from those countries. I think they call it total submergence. My command of those languages isn’t perfect, we would call it street talk.”
“You are full of surprises. After we graduate, I would like to spend some time overseas.”
“Maybe we could go together.”
“I would like that.”
Dinner was interesting, Colin did his best, but the escargot was too much for him. He tried one. That was enough—the rest of the meal we enjoyed, both of us.
Monday morning, classes resumed. The talk was about Armand’s painting and the comments made at the club. Several of Colin’s friends were members of the club and were there when he and Armand were there Friday night.
“Colin, your mother will hear about what happened at the club.”=
“Yes, and you know who will tell her.”
“Jane”
“Yes, and I would bet it wouldn’t be what occurred. Marylou wouldn’t mention them eating and drinking at our booth. But be assured she will tell her mother a story.”
“How will your mother react? She might not want you to go there.”
“No, it will be okay. Mom knows that Jane likes to spread gossip, and I’ll be surprised if Mom says anything.”
That Monday at school, those who were at the club talked about what happened. Paul, a friend of Colin’s, had told those who weren’t there. The consensus among the boys was, ‘it was about time.’
“Armand, I have class. Let’s have lunch. Meet me at the quad, and we can go to the Cafe on the corner. The cafeteria will be full of undergraduates.”
The morning seemed to drag on. Why is it when you want to do something later, later seems to take twice as long? I try to keep busy prepping canvases between classes. I think I checked the time at least a hundred times; well, it seemed that long. I was busy preparing a large canvas when someone tapped me on my shoulder. When I turned to face the person who tapped me on the shoulder, it was Colin, and he kissed me.
“I waited for you, and when you didn’t show up, I knew you were probably in the shop. I’m hungry. Let’s go.”
Walking to the café, “I spoke to some of the guys who were at the club the other night. I didn’t realize how many were annoyed by those girls.”
“I’m surprised that more didn’t walk out with us.”
“Here’s the Cafe.”
Walking inside, Armand stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, this Cafe reminded me of a cafe I visited in France.”
Sitting down, Armand kept looking around. Taking the menu, he started to sketch on the back. Colin watched as Armand drew.
“Colin, I wonder if the owner would let me paint this cafe?”
“You can ask him. Here he comes.”
“Hello, Colin, who is your friend.”
“Hello Pete, this is a very close friend of mine, Armand.”
“Hello Armand, welcome to the Cafe.”
“Pete, Armand is an artist, and he would like to paint your Cafe. What do you think?”
“You mean like a painting you hang on the wall?”
“Yes, I could come when you aren’t busy and make sketches. From my sketches, I would paint a picture you could hang behind your cash register.”
“And you would do this for free?”
“Yes, this Cafe reminds me of one in France that I visited often,”
“Alright, I open at 7 in the morning and close at 6 in the evening.”
Armand smiled as he ordered his lunch.
That evening at 5, Armand and Colin went to the Cafe for dinner, Armand had his sketch pad, and as soon as they sat down, he began to sketch the Cafe. Colin sat next to him and watched as the Cafe came to life on his sketch pad. Pete came over and looked at Armand’s sketch. Looking at Colin, he nodded his head in approval.
Over the next two weeks, Armand visited the Cafe after classes, and his sketches began to take on more detail. Four weeks after the last visit, Armand and Colin visited the Cafe for lunch. This time Armand had a gift for Pete. When Pete unwrapped the painting, he had tears in his eyes. There was Pete standing behind the cash register and in the lower right corner was an arrow right above the arrow on the frame.
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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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