Gastien Pt 1 (52 page)

The only thing left to do was pack. He did not plan to even take any painting supplies with him. He wanted to just rest. It would be too easy to escape into painting, not facing the issues he needed to deal with. He would, however, be taking his fencing swords. His body needed to get into stronger shape after healing from his wounds.

The clothes Jean Luc gave him he would give to the church. Although they were barely used, he wanted no reminders of his time here. He would have no need for those kinds of clothes in Montmartre. His next days off, he would buy some new clothes that were basic. He would eventually dress much more creatively, but for now he just wanted simple, plain clothes.

The final week, Véronique came to him nightly. Although he knew part of his need to get away was the constant sex he had submitted his body to, it was easier to just continue. Besides, it felt extremely good while in the act. He was a twenty-year-old male, after all! He reasoned that he would not be having sex for at least a month, and it was less stress to enjoy the sex than to fight with her.

Vivienne had not visited him alone again. It seemed she was now at peace with her upcoming marriage and looking forward to it.

Finally, on the last Friday in July, Gastien was finished with the family portrait. He walked up to the house. When the servant answered, Gastien asked to see Jean Luc. Jean Luc came to the door, inviting Gastien in for a glass of
vin
with the rest of the family. Gastien did not want to, but he came in to be polite.

“I am here to drop off your last portrait.” He handed it to Jean Luc.

They gathered around to look. Everyone was pleased and said so. Gastien thought they had better be. It had been terribly hard for him to not tell the truth in that painting.

His hand wanted to put down on canvas the meanness in Annah’s eyes, the weakness in Jean Luc’s face. He wanted to paint the tension held in their bodies as they lived a lie in front of their children. He also wanted to paint the sensuality of Véronique now that she was a woman, the peaceful confidence Vivienne had gained from her experience in bed. Of course, he did not. He forced himself to lie. He would be glad to never see that painting again. He did not like painting something that was not true.

“Please make sure that you have each painting sealed about twelve months from when they were finished. They need that much time to breathe, that is probably nothing new to you. There is really no need to send them to me specifically, all the way to Montmartre, any artist can seal them. In fact, they could come to your home and be done very quickly. However, if you wish, you can have your driver drop them by my studio in a year. He could return the following week for pick up. There is no reason either of you have to make the trip.” He knew both Annah and Jean Luc knew that Gastien meant they would not be welcome.

“Gastien, you did beautiful work,” Jean Luc said sincerely. “We were lucky to have such a talented painter on the property.”

“
Oui
, Gastien, you truly are a very talented painter. You did splendid work for us,” Annah added.

“
Merci
. I appreciated the opportunity to paint. I also appreciate the fact that you will be sending referrals to me for a few years, Jean Luc,” Gastien said, reminding Jean Luc of that part of the bargain. “I am sure I will be working steadily in no time. Now, I have a wedding gift for you, Vivienne.” He walked over and handed her a painting, wrapped in cloth. “It is nothing expensive, but I thought you would like a painting to remind you of home.”

Vivienne gasped when she saw it. There she was, in the flower garden, with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. It was a bouquet she had picked for Gastien, exactly the same flowers. In it, she was laughing, face turned toward the sun. “Oh, Gastien! It is beautiful! Just beautiful!” she cried. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. The flowers had meant something to him after all.

“It is you that is beautiful, Vivienne. Always remember that. I am so happy for your upcoming wedding! I hope you will be as happy as I know you will make your fiancé.” He smiled kindly.

“I will treasure this always. Always!” she whispered.

Annah looked at her oldest daughter. Then she looked at Gastien. Would he have dared to…
non
. Not even he would be that willing to take a risk. She dismissed the thought from her mind.

Then Gastien said, “I could not forget you, Véronique. I want to give you a gift, too. You challenged me throughout my whole stay!” Everyone laughed nervously, except Véronique and Gastien. They laughed honestly.

Véronique drew in her breath. There she was, standing in the garden in the dress she had on when their hands touched that fateful day. Her lips were parted in surprise, and her eyes reflected that she was being awakened to a new discovery. Gastien said, “You looked so surprised that day when you found the bird’s nest. I had to capture it on canvas. I don’t think you even knew I was there, sketching you.” She looked up at him gratefully. They both knew what she had really discovered that day. “
Merci
Gastien. It is wonderful!”

“I am glad you like it. I rather grew to like you, too.” He winked, giving her a smile. “I am truly thankful to get out of here before you drive me completely crazy!” He turned to Jean Luc and Annah. “You have your hands full with that one. I would find her a husband quickly, before she breaks the heart of every single man in Paris.”

“Amen!” agreed Jean Luc. Annah was strangely silent. God damn him! He had touched her daughters! She stared at him. Gastien met her gaze guilelessly. She was the first to look away.
Non
. She must be imagining things out of guilt.

Finishing his
vin
, Gastien got up to leave. “Well I have everything packed and will be on my way in the morning.
Merci
Beaucoup
for the wonderful place to stay. I will greatly miss the conveniences in that cottage compared to Montmartre, I am sure!” He embraced both girls, kissed Annah’s hand, and nodded to Jean Luc.

Jean Luc promised, “We will be down in the morning to see you off in style! Each of us will miss having you here.”

Gastien laughed. “Oh, I am quite sure things will be back to normal in no time. You know as well as I do that I don’t belong here permanently. I hope you enjoy the paintings.” He walked out the door.

Back at the cottage, all of the clothes he would be giving away were packed. His clothes were also ready to go, along with his fencing equipment, and about six novels he had not gotten to. Jean Luc had said he could take whatever books he wanted with him. They would make nice reading at the sea.

Last of all, he opened the scent that smelled of whoredom and dumped the contents down the toilet. Then, he opened the damper on the fireplace. He placed the smoking jacket and gold cloth in the fireplace, and lit them on fire. They burned quickly. That was the end of that.

Gastien took one last bath in the tub, washed his hair, and then got dressed. When he heard the driver arrive, he brought out the boxes. The family would be having dinner, so they would not hear the
cabriolet
. He then used the flush toilet one last time, laughing as it flushed. He would sure miss that! He walked out without looking back.

“Please take me to
Notre Dame
,” he said. He had arranged for this
cabriolet
earlier in the day, after taking out enough money for his trip to the sea. He would not need much. He had also written to Father Fournier, inviting him out to dinner that night.

Jean Luc and his family would find him gone in the morning. He did not want a prolonged goodbye. It was insincere enough this evening when he brought the painting to them. He could not get out soon enough! What they would think of him leaving like that he did not know. Nor did he care. He no longer had to think about their wishes at all.

He had written to Nath to let her know his address in Montmartre the night before.

“Dear Nath,

My time at the estate has finally come to an end. All portraits are complete.

I will be spending most, if not all, of August in a little cabin by L’Estaque. I need the rest, Nath. I am worn out physically and emotionally. I don’t even know if my soul is mine anymore. You had asked a couple of times what was wrong, and I failed to answer you.

Let me say this: I will never be able to tell you or anyone else what went on during the last year. I made some awful decisions for the chance to have my dream. I now own a studio in Montmartre. It is being refurbished as I write this and will be ready when I go there on 1
st
September.

I need to come to grips with everything that happened, if I can. I hope so. I know that you and Mic would both understand, because you both were witness to the horrible nightmares I had after living on the streets. I wanted security badly. The only way to guarantee that was to own a place to work and live. I have that now. I just hope I did not trade one nightmare for another.

You will laugh when you read this: I ordered a nice bathtub! I even have it planned out so that it can drain outside. As you know, Montmartre has no running water or gas lighting yet. The bathtub is a luxury, I know. It may seem frivolous to most but, truly, I don’t know if I will ever feel clean again.

I won’t even be painting during my time at the sea. Just fencing, reading, thinking, and lying on the sand. I hope that I discover a way to find myself again. I also hope I find a way to forgive myself for being so stupid and making such hard choices. Most of all, I hope I can feel clean again. Is my soul out there somewhere waiting for me to claim it?

Giselle will be one soon! I am looking forward to seeing how she has grown in a year. Thanks for the photos you sent me during the year! I do appreciate them. She is very cute, which most definitely came from you. You all look very happy in the family photo you sent. I am glad and hope that this letter finds you well.

 Please write to me at my new address on the enclosed card.

As always, I send you much love.

Gastien.”

He had next quickly written a note to send to Mic:

“Mic,

Just want to let you know that I have finished up my paintings, and will be leaving on the train to L’Estaque right away on 1
st
August. Hopefully I will be able to get myself back together, arriving in Montmartre more stable. Too much has gone on in two years! I hope to have life move a little slower for awhile.

Thanks again for all you have done over the last several weeks. I will see you no later than the first of September, maybe sooner. Warn the women, and lock up the liquor!

Take care,

Gaz”

As the
cabriolet
headed toward
Notre Dame
, Gastien thought about how fortunate Vivienne would be to get away from her family. He hoped the man she married was kind. Véronique would survive. She was strong. He hoped she was not carrying his child. That would make choices for her difficult. That would mean she would have to marry someone she did not want to marry, and he could not see that going well. He decided to think of other things. That family was no longer his life.

The
cabriolet
pulled up to Father Fournier’s door. Gastien jumped down. Hauling in the boxes and fencing equipment, he grinned at the Father. They embraced, once he put the boxes down. “Father, let’s go eat. I have money I am itching to spend. What do you say we find a good quality restaurant, were people aren’t stuffy, drink
vin
, and eat until we are ready to burst?”

Father Fournier laughed happily. “Sounds like a great plan to me!”

During the meal, Father talked about his mission work the past year. In turn, Gastien told him about his new studio. Father could see that Gastien was not well. He had dark circles under his eyes. He looked very thin and withdrawn. The young man’s hair had lost its gloss, and his eyes had no sparkle. Father Fournier decided not to comment, though, as he did not want to ruin the dinner.

Once they were done, they went back to Father’s. He looked at the clothes, shocked that Gastien would give them up. “Gastien! They are new or almost new! And good quality! Why would you spend money on clothes and then not wear them? You should keep these!”

Gastien just looked at him. “They were gifts from the owner of the estate. I don’t want them.”

Father Fournier looked closely at Gastien. These clothes, the money for dinner, the studio that was now Gastien’s…none of this made sense in such a short time. Suddenly, he realized that Gastien had somehow allowed himself to be used in exchange for future security. “Gastien, are you ok?” he asked softly.

 “I don’t know, Father. I seem to have bargained away my soul.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I am a good listener.”

“Non! I can’t.”

Father hugged him. “Nothing you did would be so awful that I would not care for you deeply, Gastien. You don’t have to tell me. Just know God understands, and forgives you.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because God is love, and love always forgives. Your soul cannot be given away, Gastien. You will find it inside of you, right where it always has been. You are just hurting too badly right now to recognize that.”

“I sure hope you are right,” Gastien whispered. “I don’t want to feel this shamed and dirty the rest of my life.”

“Then don’t! It is in the past! We all have things in the past we are not proud of. Stand tall and proud, Gastien. You made difficult decisions and lived through them. You are now the proud owner of a studio! You are a survivor! That is something many people can’t claim. Don’t beat yourself up over the past. Whatever happened, whoever made you feel this way, they are the ones who should feel shame.”

“
Merci
, Father. I hope I can see that soon,” responded Gastien somberly.

“You will after you rest for awhile. I know it. You will be itching to get in that studio and create masterpieces! “

Looking at him, Gastien started to smile.

“See? You are already planning a couple! Am I wrong?”