Amber and Claret

Blades of sunlight cut through the trees reflecting the amber and claret of an autumn afternoon in the Jardin du Luxembourg. Fatmire and her son had travelled into the city from the banlieues for the first time in the seven years that they had lived on the fringes of Paris. Her life was one of sadness, and riding on the RER to be here in a place ou il y a aucune soucis was her act of rebellion. Tomasz too closely resembled his father, and she could never forgive him for that. It was in God’s hands now.

Classes had ended for the day and students from the Sorbonne began to flood in through the gates to sit, socialize, and discuss world events. Soon it would be up to them to steer the world in a direction toward a brighter tomorrow and they were optimistic about the role that they would play. Michael and Yvonne, on their honeymoon, strolled along the esplanade arm-in-arm for a lovers’ walk.

Juliette was a jovial and gregarious 4-year-old who was happy to be in her pink dress. Her parents, well-to-do local Parisians, ambled gaily through the garden beaming with pride as their daughter frolicked through the grass taking moments to smell the pretty flowers. Michel and Pierre sat lazily in their deck chairs smoking, taking in the scene, and enjoying the first few moments of their well-earned retirement, their small bottles of homemade spirits were well concealed.

The blue of the Basin, home to the Fountain of the Observatory, provides the perfect complement of colour to the foliage. Small boats, flying national flags, swayed on the breeze, past mallards and koi, as young children charge from one end of the Basin to the other to launch their boats across to the other side. The commotion immediately sparked the wonder of Tomasz who had never in his short life beheld a place so full of joy and wonderment. It was a distraction and the last bit of joy Fatmire could offer her child. Whispering short breaths to the clerk, she hoped he would complete the puzzle of communication as she handed him some crumpled notes.

“Merci madame!” said the clerk with a smile. “Mais ce n’est pas necessaire. Tu peux payer quand tu es fini. C’est seulement 4 euro par demi-heure.”

Fatmire could not understand his French and insisted by trying to hand him the crumpled notes. It was not les bateaus, but Tomasz’s blond hair that caught Juliette’s attention. She bounded over toward the booth where he was waiting patiently for his mother to conclude the transaction. The clerk asked which boat Tomasz would like. The three golden crowns on a sea of azure blue were particularly striking in Tomasz’s young mind and, after the clerk handed him the boat, he stood there proudly, ready to set sail. He looked up at his mother. “Vazhdo!” she snapped.

“Ah, tu veux un bateau ma belle?” Juliette’s mother asked as she surmised on what her child had fixed her attention. Juliette was so fascinated by Tomasz’s presence that her mother’s questions could not derail her focus. Juliette’s mother was still trying to get her attention and motioned to the clerk that she would like a boat. “Lequelle est-ce-que tu veux?” she asked her child. Juliette insisted on having a boat with a flag of yellow and blue, but there were none. “Mais ils ont la France, tu ne veux pas celui la, cocotte?” Juliette’s mother was holding her by the wrist trying to wrangle an inconsequential decision from her 4-year-old child who only wanted to be free to chase a young boy. But, at only 4, she could not understand the simplicity of choosing just any boat and kept insisting that her boat fly a yellow and blue flag. The push and pull of these two ideas tore at her and brought the tears she could not keep at bay.

Tomasz did not give Juliette even a passing thought. He was too focused on his boat to pay her any mind and to him, even at his young age, she was too much a child. Tomasz briefly surveyed the other children and their boats before he deftly placed his rod at the stern and gave a very measured and calculated thrust. It was flawless. He was a natural sailor of the Basin. Meanwhile, Juliette’s father tried to demonstrate to his daughter how to set the boat out, but he could not shake her attention away from Tomasz.

Maria was a Mexican exchange student studying Fine Arts. She sat with her sketchbook in her lap, pencils in hand, studying the fountain and the Palais in the background. Darren had just arrived in Paris. He was exhausted, combatting jet lag and the 7-hour time difference and trying to stay awake as long as possible. He had just walked over from the Shakespeare & Co. bookstore where he had purchased Foucault’s Madness and Civilization. Brenda was standing by the Medici Fountain striking a pose for Instagram with her friend Amanda. “How cool would it be to have your wedding right here?” she said.

Olivier laid face down in the grass on the lawn of the Jardin des Grands Explorateurs. He hadn’t moved for quite a while as leaves gently fell around him. How could he have lost her? His love, now so far away, was enduring her own heartache.

The smell of pur beurre wafted across the lawn and it was still warm enough in the city for tourists, just passing through, to enjoy crème glacée. Duncan, who had been in Paris more than a week, was scrolling through the pictures he had taken with his camera. Nour was checking the news from back home – things were getting worse, but she had responsibilities here in Paris.

Karim, a native Algerian, and Pierre-Elie (boukbouk as Karim referred to him), originally from the Champagne region, a small town called Tinqueux near Reims, had become friends over the last many years despite the fact that Karim’s wife had once had an affair with Pierre-Elie. In fact, Pierre-Elie had spent 5 years raising Karim’s daughter until her mother had left him for someone else. They were united on the front that their ex was “the crazy one” and could now commiserate about what they had put themselves through. So, returning to the Jardin to play backgammon in the afternoon was their friendship ritual.

Tomasz’s sloop had made 7 crossings and he had carefully studied each one being sure never to launch his boat from the same point that he had launched it previously. Juliette didn’t even notice when her boat, now effectively steered by her father, passed just in front of Tomasz’s. To her parents, Juliette seemed to be out of control as her mother continued to try to draw her daughter’s attention to the boat with the French flag.

A gentle breeze blew loose leaves across the lawn as Paul and Myriam were enjoying a small picnic of charcuterie. This small event was a good idea in theory but they were just too different and had already run out of things to talk about. Thierry, only 3-years-old, had fallen out of his swing in the split-second while his mother, Yvette, was distracted. He screamed bloody murder while she apologized and kissed his elbow and his knees and anywhere he indicated that he had hurt himself.

Laurent and Vivienne were a timeless couple. Forty-seven years together and not a sign of any fading feelings, and as much in love today as they were when they first met. Roger had lost the entire day still drunk from the night before. Truthfully, he was not even sure where he was or how he had gotten there.

The sun appeared not to move across the sky as the light lingered on the treetops of an afternoon without end. It had been one of the most important moments in Juliette’s life but, to her parents, it was time to return their boat and get on with their evening. Perhaps if they moved on then their child, who to them seemed lost in another world, would return to them. Mother broke the news of their departure. “Juliette! Viens ici! Il faut qu’on s’en va!” Juliette burst into tears. Her mother, trying to calm her, reassured her that they had many more fun things planned for the day. “Quelqu’un est fatigué, je crois” Juliette’s mother whispered to her husband who was settling the rental with the clerk. For a moment, Juliette’s tears broke the tranquillity of the garden drawing the attention of several onlookers to her parent’s embarrassment. Juliette left kicking and screaming in her father’s arms.

Yayoi and Megumi posed in front of the Palais taking selfies and making the peace sign. Colin, a 73-year-old art enthusiast from Cornwall was on a walk taking notes on all of the sculptures along the esplanade. To keep himself busy during his retirement he enjoyed travelling from city to city, visiting and keeping a record of all the public art. He made prints and notes that he kept in a large binder which he called his “Collection”. It had swelled to over 300 pages and he had recently employed his grandson with the task of turning “The Collection” into a website.

Gail and Gloria were just killing time. Their overnight train to Rome wouldn’t leave for another few hours. They laid out on the lawn using their backpacks as pillows and eating protein bars as an early supper. Beatrice, wheelchair-bound, knew she did not have long left in this world but knew that, with what time she did have, she would appreciate spending it here. She was not much for tears. She loved her life. Artur had just come into the world. His mother, Eve, looked down at him in his pram wondering how it was possible to love something so much. Eve put her finger close to her baby. Artur grabbed it and put it in his mouth. Their connection, mother to child, was the only thing more beautiful than the Jardin itself.

Tomasz had not looked up from the pool in quite a while, but by now the sun was setting below the treetops lighting the sky but not the Jardin. Sparkles from the water danced in the air reflecting through the spray from the fountain. Tomasz surveyed the scene before sending his boat, one of the remaining few, across the basin again. He did not know about operating hours, but the kiosk would be closing soon. With his sailing pole in hand, he looked at the Palais. He turned around and surveyed the lawn. A gust of wind rustled his hair as he called out, “Maman! Maman!”