OOM: France, 2005
[Fourth OOM]
Nobody but Alice knew that this would be Kate's last night in France.
This might account for why the day began at the pre-gray hour of four-thirty; or why Alice's smile, usually sharp and vivacious, sometimes appears muted, or nervous.
The rental car looks like a fish -- like a shark, Jasper corrects -- each side of the front fender having gill-like perforations. The Peugeot 407 Coupé was the fastest car they had at the rental place.
The engine roars, and Alice beams at Kate.
"Buckle your seat belt!"
She looks terrified even before they squeal out of the driveway.
---
"Bienvenue, mes amis. Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
Alice is in the front passenger seat. She and Jasper hold hands.
"Beh-on-venue, may ahm-eez..."
"Stop, stop, just...stop."
Kate learns that Texan accents are nothing like French ones.
---
It's a six-and-a-half hour drive to Paris.
They make it in little more than three.
Kate was told that the scenery along the way was quite beautiful.
(Her body is vibrating after she steps out of the car. Apparently, this is normal.)
"Come!" Alice bounces. "There's sooo much to do!"
(Alice seems unaffected.)
---
"Pardon! C’est combien?"
"‘How much is this?’" Alice translates.
Kate tries the phrase out for herself. Her ear has improved, and Alice nods her approval.
"It's the only French Jasper knows."
The Saxe-Breteuil Market bustles with activity. Kate can hardly focus, every sense so assaulted that her attentions attempt to divide and conquer. There is too much.
"That's not true," says Jasper.
He hands Kate baguette tartines, smeared in butter and jam and wrapped in wax paper, and a café au lait.
"Bon appétit."
---
The first and second floors of the Eiffel Tower are filled with baubles. Alice insists on visiting every single souvenir shop.
Jasper still refuses to wear a beret.
Kate discovers it's possible to not be able to breathe when surrounded by nothing but air.
France lays open on every side of her.
Maybe, just maybe, she finally understands flight.
---
"Alex!"
Kate whips her head over her shoulder, searching out the voice. A toddler goes waddling by with his father chasing after, both a mess of wild curls.
Jasper watches her. Her heart is racing.
"Someone you thought you knew?"
"I told Guppy Doc an' I would come see his wife in the hospital. She was soon t'have her baby."
Her regret stings his heart.
"Maybe it hasn't been that long back in the bar. I'm sure he'll understand; you'll be back soon."
Worry; fear; pain; anxiety. He frowns, dropping his voice an octave.
"You'll have to go back eventually, darlin'."
"I know."
"I'm not the only person who notices when you're gone. I'm sure people miss you."
She faces him, smiling. For once, it's not contrived.
"Maybe Edward misses me."
Jasper pouts. Kate touches the inside of his elbow.
"Take me to the top?"
"You don't deserve it." He grins. "Okay."
---
Kate stands before the Mona Lisa, everything about the late morning meant to catch the work of art in perfect light. The woman is a masterpiece.
They walked through the verdant, sprawling gardens of the Tuileries, manicured in remarkable precision the likes of which Kate has never seen. They passed under the Arc de Triomphe, and entered through the overwhelming glass and metal pyramid that serves as an entrance to the Louvre -- the old juxtaposed with the new, both breathtaking in their grandeur. Through opulent marble halls that whisper with every breath and footfall, amplifying them into spine-aching conversations that follow them, down spiral staircases, through stone passageways, past modern glass, and fossilized sand. But the thing they've come all this way to see is this plain, unremarkable face -- the strong shoulders, the sharp eyes, the almost invisible smirk on her lips.
It's a subject of curiosity, for Kate. Who was she? What had she done in her lifetime to merit such esteem?
This ordinary woman is a masterpiece.
---
"Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, ou la Mort."
The former Priory of Saint-Martin-des-Champs hasn't a stitch of ivy or choking rust. Kate's eyes are to the sky, to the stained glass and wrought iron latticework. The old abbey stood here long before her day, and remains even until now.
Inside is the Museé des Arts et Métiers. In front of her is a replica of the Statue of Liberty.
She's never been to New York. There had been plans, of course. She was meant to see the original Statue, the one that stands hundreds of feet taller than this one. She was meant to see the school, the streets, the rivers. There was so much she was meant to see.
She'll see it.
---
Jasper stifles a laugh. Alice doesn't.
"What?"
"I'm surprised you haven't made yourself dizzy yet."
The last half hour has been spent running from one exhibit to the next. First, it was the Branly Coherer; then, the De Dion Engine; the Lumière brothers' "Cinematograph"; the "Pendulum" anemometer by Pajot d'Ons-en-Bray; and, currently, a Case hydraulic jack. Each with videos and live demonstrations, Kate hasn't been able to keep her eyes still.
"Don't make fun!"
"No, no," chuckles Alice, "it's adorable."
"Have y'ever seen so many amazing things?"
Jasper sniffs.
"Most of them are outdated."
Alice pokes him. Kate, however, has already moved on to the Avion III, suspended overhead. She walks in circles underneath it, mouth open, taking in every detail.
Jasper settles back into his patented serious expression.
"You like that one?"
Kate nods slowly.
"One'a my dearest friends is a pilot. I never got t'see her ship, but we built a few models together. It's been a long spell since I last saw her, but I bet she'd like this."
Jasper and Alice exchange glances.
"I know just the place we should go next."
---
"Merci beaucoup! Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
"Mur-see boh-coo."
"Bon."
She keeps pushing her hair out of her eyes, only to have the wind push it right back. They're in the rental car, heading north out of Paris.
"Je ne comprends pas. Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
"Zhun com-pon pa?"
Alice pinches the bridge of her nose.
---
They pull past the airport, going faster than what is strictly legal despite the security guards and parking attendants flailing in obvious disapproval. Kate's eyes are as wide as silver dollars.
Out the window she sees a large statue -- three blue, white, and red jets soaring in various directions -- in front of the Musée de l'Air et de l'Espace. A tall white rocket serves as a backdrop.
This time it's Kate who can hardly wait for the car to stop before she's jumping to her feet.
---
"I can't remember which one was hers."
She turns circles as she walks through each hangar. Several times Jasper has to nudge her away from running into something or someone, as her eyes are on each model and craft above her.
"But she says she flies a spaceship, now."
"Well, you likely won't find that here," Jasper chuckles.
There are so many different models, from gliders to jets to rockets and more. She pauses at a space capsule, part of the hull blackened from where it entered the atmosphere.
"Ohh!"
Alice points toward an exhibit. Femmes de l'Air. There is a blown-up image of a female pilot, dark hair pinned in perfect curls and a smile on her face.
"Cute outfit! Do you think they sell it in the gift shop?"
Kate's eyes glitter.
"Gift shop?"
Alice nods, and grins.
"Tell me you remember. The one absolutely vital phrase you can't forget?"
"Ce monsieur va tout payer."
Alice throws her arms around Kate's neck.
"I'm so proud."
---
"Where are we goin'?"
Kate cradles the bag from the boutique in her lap. Jasper smiles at her through the rear-view mirror.
"Someplace just for you."
---
She almost weeps.
The Castle of Chantilly stands golden in the afternoon light. It's surrounded by French gardens and great expanses of water, home to an outstanding collection of paintings and tapestries, and is most notable for two things in particular: housing one of the most beautiful and most famous libraries, that of the Duc l'Aumale; and being neighbor to the Musée Vivant du Cheval.
The Living Horse Museum.
Jasper stays well clear of the horse-drawn carriages, which seem to Kate like stunningly crafted mini-palaces on wheels, each a riot of color.
Her smile could cut glass.
"Library first? Or a carriage ride through the park?"
"The libraries are quieter," Jasper winces. "And less... crowded."
Alice twists her arms around his waist.
"Libraries it is," Kate murmurs, smiling softly.
---
One of these magnificent horses is coming home with her.
She doesn't know when, and she doesn't know how.
But it's going to happen.
---
Jasper is still laughing.
"Well, I ain't never seen a saddle like that before! An' they've got all them horses all gussied up with ribbons an' curls, tails all in fancy braids."
Kate's face is red as they hike back to the car.
"How was I s'posed t'know he'd take ‘bare back’ the wrong way?"
---
They're headed back through Paris, on their way towards home.
One more stop: La Sainte-Chapelle.
For the first time today, and for reasons entirely unrelated to Doc, Katherine cries.
---
The sun is setting.
There aren't any French lessons on the drive back. Just music and wind and warm colors, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of forested cliffs, rushing torrents, fertile plains and medieval villages.
They run parallel to a train for a stretch, and Kate watches the modern behemoth from her seat. The Peugeot far outpaces it, racing somewhere beyond the speedometer's grasp. Kate watches as they overtake car after car, a few of the cabin windows lit with activity.
For a moment, she can imagine herself on the back of Beaut, chasing the horizon and an inestimable payday.
It's enough to make her lips curl.
---
"Alice," Kate laughs; "Don't you ever get tired?"
"Nope!"
Kate shares a look with Jasper.
"Come onnnnn, this is the best part! You eat, and then we go dancing! You don't come to Provence without seeing the nightlife!"
"No, you don't come to Provence without seeing the nightlife," Jasper corrects.
Alice stares at him blankly.
"I fail to see your point."
"One hour," Kate laughs. "Then we go home, 'fore I turn into a pumpkin."
Alice glees.
"Okay! Promise."
---
Two hours later, Kate is finishing off the last bite of the latest culinary art form Alice has shoved into her mouth. It had seemed like a good idea to let her order, since Kate couldn't read the menu, but by the time the waiter came around she wondered if Alice was ordering for the entire restaurant.
Alice is bouncing slightly. Kate gets the feeling that she'll be wrenched from her seat and to the dance floor as soon as she's swallowed.
There's a shuffle and a crash, raised voices, and Kate's hand moves to her hip before she remembers the modest clutch she's been keeping her Smith & Wesson in. Jasper stops her before she can reach for it.
A man and a woman are fighting a few tables away.
"Don't."
"What's goin' on?"
"Lover's quarrel," Alice whispers. "She says he's been cheating."
Wait staff quickly come to the table, trying to silence the fighters. It's a cacophony of voices, from insistent droning to explosive jabbering. The woman takes the ring off her finger and throws it at the man.
"Office romance. She's demanding to know how he could do this to her."
"Alice," Jasper warns.
The man laughs and shrugs, and the argument grows cold.
"What did he say?" Kate asks.
Alice purses her lips.
"‘That's love’."
The couple is asked to leave. The restaurant seems painfully quiet. Alice looks at Kate.
"Come on," she murmurs, standing up. "Let's dance?"
Kate nods.
Que c'est l'amour.
---
It's almost three in the morning by the time they get back.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern weave around Kate's ankles, mewing desperately for dinner. Kate takes off her shoes.
"Go to bed," Alice shoos, making the appropriate hand motions. "I'll feed the cats."
"Thank you. I'm plumb tuckered."
"But you had fun, right? Right?"
Kate smiles.
"Today's not a day I'll soon be forgettin'. You have my word on that."
.
Nobody but Alice knew that this would be Kate's last night in France.
This might account for why the day began at the pre-gray hour of four-thirty; or why Alice's smile, usually sharp and vivacious, sometimes appears muted, or nervous.
The rental car looks like a fish -- like a shark, Jasper corrects -- each side of the front fender having gill-like perforations. The Peugeot 407 Coupé was the fastest car they had at the rental place.
The engine roars, and Alice beams at Kate.
"Buckle your seat belt!"
She looks terrified even before they squeal out of the driveway.
---
"Bienvenue, mes amis. Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
Alice is in the front passenger seat. She and Jasper hold hands.
"Beh-on-venue, may ahm-eez..."
"Stop, stop, just...stop."
Kate learns that Texan accents are nothing like French ones.
---
It's a six-and-a-half hour drive to Paris.
They make it in little more than three.
Kate was told that the scenery along the way was quite beautiful.
(Her body is vibrating after she steps out of the car. Apparently, this is normal.)
"Come!" Alice bounces. "There's sooo much to do!"
(Alice seems unaffected.)
---
"Pardon! C’est combien?"
"‘How much is this?’" Alice translates.
Kate tries the phrase out for herself. Her ear has improved, and Alice nods her approval.
"It's the only French Jasper knows."
The Saxe-Breteuil Market bustles with activity. Kate can hardly focus, every sense so assaulted that her attentions attempt to divide and conquer. There is too much.
"That's not true," says Jasper.
He hands Kate baguette tartines, smeared in butter and jam and wrapped in wax paper, and a café au lait.
"Bon appétit."
---
The first and second floors of the Eiffel Tower are filled with baubles. Alice insists on visiting every single souvenir shop.
Jasper still refuses to wear a beret.
Kate discovers it's possible to not be able to breathe when surrounded by nothing but air.
France lays open on every side of her.
Maybe, just maybe, she finally understands flight.
---
"Alex!"
Kate whips her head over her shoulder, searching out the voice. A toddler goes waddling by with his father chasing after, both a mess of wild curls.
Jasper watches her. Her heart is racing.
"Someone you thought you knew?"
"I told Guppy Doc an' I would come see his wife in the hospital. She was soon t'have her baby."
Her regret stings his heart.
"Maybe it hasn't been that long back in the bar. I'm sure he'll understand; you'll be back soon."
Worry; fear; pain; anxiety. He frowns, dropping his voice an octave.
"You'll have to go back eventually, darlin'."
"I know."
"I'm not the only person who notices when you're gone. I'm sure people miss you."
She faces him, smiling. For once, it's not contrived.
"Maybe Edward misses me."
Jasper pouts. Kate touches the inside of his elbow.
"Take me to the top?"
"You don't deserve it." He grins. "Okay."
---
Kate stands before the Mona Lisa, everything about the late morning meant to catch the work of art in perfect light. The woman is a masterpiece.
They walked through the verdant, sprawling gardens of the Tuileries, manicured in remarkable precision the likes of which Kate has never seen. They passed under the Arc de Triomphe, and entered through the overwhelming glass and metal pyramid that serves as an entrance to the Louvre -- the old juxtaposed with the new, both breathtaking in their grandeur. Through opulent marble halls that whisper with every breath and footfall, amplifying them into spine-aching conversations that follow them, down spiral staircases, through stone passageways, past modern glass, and fossilized sand. But the thing they've come all this way to see is this plain, unremarkable face -- the strong shoulders, the sharp eyes, the almost invisible smirk on her lips.
It's a subject of curiosity, for Kate. Who was she? What had she done in her lifetime to merit such esteem?
This ordinary woman is a masterpiece.
---
"Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, ou la Mort."
The former Priory of Saint-Martin-des-Champs hasn't a stitch of ivy or choking rust. Kate's eyes are to the sky, to the stained glass and wrought iron latticework. The old abbey stood here long before her day, and remains even until now.
Inside is the Museé des Arts et Métiers. In front of her is a replica of the Statue of Liberty.
She's never been to New York. There had been plans, of course. She was meant to see the original Statue, the one that stands hundreds of feet taller than this one. She was meant to see the school, the streets, the rivers. There was so much she was meant to see.
She'll see it.
---
Jasper stifles a laugh. Alice doesn't.
"What?"
"I'm surprised you haven't made yourself dizzy yet."
The last half hour has been spent running from one exhibit to the next. First, it was the Branly Coherer; then, the De Dion Engine; the Lumière brothers' "Cinematograph"; the "Pendulum" anemometer by Pajot d'Ons-en-Bray; and, currently, a Case hydraulic jack. Each with videos and live demonstrations, Kate hasn't been able to keep her eyes still.
"Don't make fun!"
"No, no," chuckles Alice, "it's adorable."
"Have y'ever seen so many amazing things?"
Jasper sniffs.
"Most of them are outdated."
Alice pokes him. Kate, however, has already moved on to the Avion III, suspended overhead. She walks in circles underneath it, mouth open, taking in every detail.
Jasper settles back into his patented serious expression.
"You like that one?"
Kate nods slowly.
"One'a my dearest friends is a pilot. I never got t'see her ship, but we built a few models together. It's been a long spell since I last saw her, but I bet she'd like this."
Jasper and Alice exchange glances.
"I know just the place we should go next."
---
"Merci beaucoup! Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
"Mur-see boh-coo."
"Bon."
She keeps pushing her hair out of her eyes, only to have the wind push it right back. They're in the rental car, heading north out of Paris.
"Je ne comprends pas. Répétez, s'il vous plaît."
"Zhun com-pon pa?"
Alice pinches the bridge of her nose.
---
They pull past the airport, going faster than what is strictly legal despite the security guards and parking attendants flailing in obvious disapproval. Kate's eyes are as wide as silver dollars.
Out the window she sees a large statue -- three blue, white, and red jets soaring in various directions -- in front of the Musée de l'Air et de l'Espace. A tall white rocket serves as a backdrop.
This time it's Kate who can hardly wait for the car to stop before she's jumping to her feet.
---
"I can't remember which one was hers."
She turns circles as she walks through each hangar. Several times Jasper has to nudge her away from running into something or someone, as her eyes are on each model and craft above her.
"But she says she flies a spaceship, now."
"Well, you likely won't find that here," Jasper chuckles.
There are so many different models, from gliders to jets to rockets and more. She pauses at a space capsule, part of the hull blackened from where it entered the atmosphere.
"Ohh!"
Alice points toward an exhibit. Femmes de l'Air. There is a blown-up image of a female pilot, dark hair pinned in perfect curls and a smile on her face.
"Cute outfit! Do you think they sell it in the gift shop?"
Kate's eyes glitter.
"Gift shop?"
Alice nods, and grins.
"Tell me you remember. The one absolutely vital phrase you can't forget?"
"Ce monsieur va tout payer."
Alice throws her arms around Kate's neck.
"I'm so proud."
---
"Where are we goin'?"
Kate cradles the bag from the boutique in her lap. Jasper smiles at her through the rear-view mirror.
"Someplace just for you."
---
She almost weeps.
The Castle of Chantilly stands golden in the afternoon light. It's surrounded by French gardens and great expanses of water, home to an outstanding collection of paintings and tapestries, and is most notable for two things in particular: housing one of the most beautiful and most famous libraries, that of the Duc l'Aumale; and being neighbor to the Musée Vivant du Cheval.
The Living Horse Museum.
Jasper stays well clear of the horse-drawn carriages, which seem to Kate like stunningly crafted mini-palaces on wheels, each a riot of color.
Her smile could cut glass.
"Library first? Or a carriage ride through the park?"
"The libraries are quieter," Jasper winces. "And less... crowded."
Alice twists her arms around his waist.
"Libraries it is," Kate murmurs, smiling softly.
---
One of these magnificent horses is coming home with her.
She doesn't know when, and she doesn't know how.
But it's going to happen.
---
Jasper is still laughing.
"Well, I ain't never seen a saddle like that before! An' they've got all them horses all gussied up with ribbons an' curls, tails all in fancy braids."
Kate's face is red as they hike back to the car.
"How was I s'posed t'know he'd take ‘bare back’ the wrong way?"
---
They're headed back through Paris, on their way towards home.
One more stop: La Sainte-Chapelle.
For the first time today, and for reasons entirely unrelated to Doc, Katherine cries.
---
The sun is setting.
There aren't any French lessons on the drive back. Just music and wind and warm colors, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of forested cliffs, rushing torrents, fertile plains and medieval villages.
They run parallel to a train for a stretch, and Kate watches the modern behemoth from her seat. The Peugeot far outpaces it, racing somewhere beyond the speedometer's grasp. Kate watches as they overtake car after car, a few of the cabin windows lit with activity.
For a moment, she can imagine herself on the back of Beaut, chasing the horizon and an inestimable payday.
It's enough to make her lips curl.
---
"Alice," Kate laughs; "Don't you ever get tired?"
"Nope!"
Kate shares a look with Jasper.
"Come onnnnn, this is the best part! You eat, and then we go dancing! You don't come to Provence without seeing the nightlife!"
"No, you don't come to Provence without seeing the nightlife," Jasper corrects.
Alice stares at him blankly.
"I fail to see your point."
"One hour," Kate laughs. "Then we go home, 'fore I turn into a pumpkin."
Alice glees.
"Okay! Promise."
---
Two hours later, Kate is finishing off the last bite of the latest culinary art form Alice has shoved into her mouth. It had seemed like a good idea to let her order, since Kate couldn't read the menu, but by the time the waiter came around she wondered if Alice was ordering for the entire restaurant.
Alice is bouncing slightly. Kate gets the feeling that she'll be wrenched from her seat and to the dance floor as soon as she's swallowed.
There's a shuffle and a crash, raised voices, and Kate's hand moves to her hip before she remembers the modest clutch she's been keeping her Smith & Wesson in. Jasper stops her before she can reach for it.
A man and a woman are fighting a few tables away.
"Don't."
"What's goin' on?"
"Lover's quarrel," Alice whispers. "She says he's been cheating."
Wait staff quickly come to the table, trying to silence the fighters. It's a cacophony of voices, from insistent droning to explosive jabbering. The woman takes the ring off her finger and throws it at the man.
"Office romance. She's demanding to know how he could do this to her."
"Alice," Jasper warns.
The man laughs and shrugs, and the argument grows cold.
"What did he say?" Kate asks.
Alice purses her lips.
"‘That's love’."
The couple is asked to leave. The restaurant seems painfully quiet. Alice looks at Kate.
"Come on," she murmurs, standing up. "Let's dance?"
Kate nods.
Que c'est l'amour.
---
It's almost three in the morning by the time they get back.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern weave around Kate's ankles, mewing desperately for dinner. Kate takes off her shoes.
"Go to bed," Alice shoos, making the appropriate hand motions. "I'll feed the cats."
"Thank you. I'm plumb tuckered."
"But you had fun, right? Right?"
Kate smiles.
"Today's not a day I'll soon be forgettin'. You have my word on that."
.