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Forward, Children!

Chapter 2 No.2

Word Count: 11377    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

autumn rain, falling out of a d

893-1921. Orville warped his hat to shed the rain and tried to button his makeshift coat closer, broken umbrella hooked over one arm, umb

trying to flip its calendar, turn it back to another rainy day in June, when Robert had been wounded at B

, his cousin, Marcel ... graves under leafless Lombardies. The rain made him resentful of the place and of death. The ground was spongy; the sod could absorb little more; he kicked at weeds with a quic

. You might have been a pretty fair provincial lawyer. The rain has had you a long ti

ong,

e to mind, young face, maybe like his own. Moustache. Blond moustache. A tall man, lean, a h

lon

shore, moved without any apparent effort, its reflection

re ... swans ... chateau swans ... and when Rousseau said

trec's house had thrilled him, when the spire on the stone church had prodded more than clouds. In t

Cobbled streets fanned out from the figure. The statue was unchanged. The c

own as it had years a

nged against his leg as he began to walk faster, hust

ing for Orville, his bearded face close to a window. Orville, glancing at the

ed! Mon dieu, Or

e cemetery," Orville said, and handed Claude his u

k way ... the fron

ven't been able to find anyone to repair them. Come wit

antry, perturbed by the house, somehow stif

I'll bring your clothes, the things that

how has l

gh, I guess ..

t gotten ma

my a

aughter, the restrain

d y

e. Seven years since I was

odded, re

sure of himself, trying to

... I sometimes..

ut some pots of water on the stove ... you see the boiler isn't working for the bathtub." He found it hard to

Copper pots and copper spoons decorated a wall. The fire was crackling in the stove; th

ttered down

espectful: his beard was longer and whiter. Annette was in the village but what had delayed the Rondes? Where

through bombed streets, past the British Museum spewing books and walls, blocking the street, one siren triggering another until

he light played on his naked body. Dumping dirty water down the sink he poured him

es; stopping in the doorway he en

ne to repair the

ss this is where I scru

the hot

Therèse be

hink

t could rain so

he bus? Did they let you

t off in the

ve gone to the ce

anted to look arou

ng them carefully--the valet's touch. He hoped everything wou

asn't so much the redness, it was the ragged shape of the thing. Bichain had the face of a Pole; his Cracow ancesto

e explosion during training at camp. It was pleasant picking up his clothes from the table, holding

to telephon

kay ... Claude had

be good after all, this leav

ht to shut o

of the fire poked across the

d it. Without switching on lights or lamps, he walked across the room, hopi

as Ermenonville French and yet Orville thought of a girl i

et me the

ator was trying to identify Orvi

ment, p

d--someone, a man, spat th

do you

e of war, with

"I want to speak to Mlle. Jeannette Hi

duty, I can

he snapped out. "Important ... get

ll call you back, M. Bichai

French doors: Claude was switching on lamps, tending a fire in one of the fireplaces. Firelight blurred the walls. It was an elegant ro

antels rested on rococo Caen stone pillars. The furniture, of several

one ja

this M. Bichain? This

, J

imself round suddenly,

dar

h, it's you. Ho

. And

, you're here

ked, excited now, wanting to see he

emergency shift. Surgery. Maybe for three hours ... a bad case. I do

?" he

meet you anywhere you sa

tal car brin

with your family. Not no

morning." He wanted to say it's marvelous, hearing your voice, being in Ermenonville; she was already saying good nigh

on its hook when the phone rang. P

el

glad you are home. When did you get home? I've b

f or the connection's bad. Where are you?" He dropped into her ki

... I'm afraid I won't get back till late. Maybe not till tomorrow. Lena and I are here--we're so disa

t he sent his love to Lena and assure

in. Such a muddy road. And then our engine had to act up. Have you seen Jeannette? Have you phoned her?" She w

late or tomorrow," he explained to Claude, who was

in no

ing yo

ll let Ann

t: he and his mother had stayed several weeks during that summer. During those seven ye

ckets. Chopin's face seemed more poetical than he remembered it. The man

woodwork had been dusted and polished two thousand times and Claude had waxed the parquet--over and over. Parchment lamp shades seemed to be new. He bent over a cloisonné vase: it

d curta

o his trip, a sick and quarrelsome woman, the SS troopers play

fireplaces spread their warmth. Maybe the war was ending ... maybe it would end

upstairs,

yes as he sense

to say that su

iform, a trench helmet and a pistol, and a pair of grey gloves lay on a table beside him: he appeared to be a reticent, egocentric, stupid man. Orville remembered how d

the portrait's frame was tarnishing: pigment was flaki

ee days ago, less than seventy-two hours ago, it had been hell itself at the front: fooling with his knife, eyeing its ornate

alone like this, in

specialty of hers. He recognized the dry local wine ... he imagined, as he tasted it, the wines, brandies,

door widen

tte asked, hands pouching he

having you and Claude look after me ... lik

n Marse

's not caught in

ty ... he's ... well

twenty pounds across her stomach and another five through her bre

the antique silver service on the Louis buffet represented several periods: the flowered wallpaper and a bevy of melancholy sti

's voice. "Wh

darli

med to taste of everything good, smell of many perfumes. He helped her remove h

rds; she hugged him and kissed him on the sofa, the fire g

where's e

everybody's in the country

eating alone! Then the

. I guess they'

gee, it's

ing her against the cushions, her breasts swell

e months!"

most gi

ha

s ... you do

asn't that th

n: her fingers slid the crudely faceted amethyst round a

w Claude Bichain, standing b

he's staying at M. Placier's ... s

you,

ad," Je

t somethin

he floor, both doors open: they nodded: there were vintages and

about

" said

to the living room, Claude was adding wood to the fires: he wanted to keep both fireplaces

toasted, lift

to your l

our l

burrowed against him, tasting his brandy l

I love

nig

es

t slow

am.

ke

... y

nk everything

cour

y n

why n

wonderful girls

she

lieve

ndress yo

be able to wa

r

the forest ... the shrines ... I've seen Jean Jacques' ghost ... oh, yes, at the Lac ... ah, you and Colonel Ronde, to work things out for me here ... the hospital staff tries,

r, stalling like animals, happy animals, sure of themselves--anticipating t

shoulders ... thought of her lov

we go u

... b

kno

it see

own room ...

es

ve to return to

leven, I

l night

to, da

en.

ot so e

as

.. go on kissing ... unbutton

roof. Claude checked the fires, and said good night. They were, for all their p

floor near the f

ll go to yo

head on

d ov

ow

es

ay.

... m

le

shall we ever marry? In some architectural office will he

e--not seven bedrooms. Ours ... three

much time for home; his health had failed under demanding jobs: skinny, hard featured, hard

om came back, his smil

her b

N

tonight than we

wful that a

we go u

es

gainst the intricate carvings on the Cae

n o'clock?" he q

think a

o taxi at

... there's no

N

he opened the door to his room: a

fire," Orville

w n

ing into his mirror on his chest of drawers she saw the gun rack, rifles,

ng to make love u

a real catc

darli

admiring its floral pattern: wasn't o

ce in here,"

he pine

y before love making, to see one another: then she smothered her mouth with his and his tongue probed inside: she sensed the hardening o

and guns. Kneeling in front of her, he dragged her against him. They tot

ngers: they felt cool, wonder

nd him, clamped her arms about his neck. His hands cupped her feet. She kissed

. not now ...

and slid to the floor again; once more o

in, Jean .

ka

lt warm to him; her perspiring body was in accord with his; he clasped his fingers over her narrow buttocks; their mutual orga

lay

r," she laughed, "

hed. "We've earned

sses, he walked away, walked about the village before returning home for breakfast. After breakfast, he commenced a letter to his mother, to

t were somehow childish. The mouth smiled and yet there were wrinkles i

here, just now ... Claude said you were

othing to be upset

soaking wet, couldn't raise the top of the car ... that awful downpour ... oh, we had to bo

eyes, her glasses rimless and dual-lensed, her hair a series of grey-white streaks. Orville knew she often spoke without p

apped on

eauty, her athletic body: her face had assumed an esthetic quality

, O

... you lo

.. it's good

ssed li

asculinity: their old rapport returned at once: arms

pper last night?

" Orvil

are, writing a letter, when you should be horseback riding or playin

d Lena lau

lunch," Lena said. "Orv ... you and I ... Mama,

n the living room. Claude, at the front door, was admitting

Claude ... old

e friends," Lena explain

n alcoholic sway: "I remember you at school ... do you remember me?" Orville saw from his aunt's face that Lena's friends were tight

t plant has blueprints for bigger, more sophisticated tanks ... when the war

ked at Orville, stepping back, a lit

Ronde, vehement about the theater, the Parisian thea

ed softly with Celeste, a pretty woman wearing lavender trimmed with squirrel: her serious face was painted d

ng back?" she asked; s

" he said, flipping

my place in Senlis. I'd like to have you come; we

your bi

t Fr

over by then ... I

g the Nazis ... I despise them ... my brother has been imprisoned ... my mot

a day or two," cut in Tho

in Switzerland when you were here ... we're pretty drunk;

speaking

sh you luck ... you and your f

with us on my

urse I

ped Orvi

bathroom," she said

so this is why we're fighting a global war: is this why the

, the French, the British, the Americans! He opened his fly, scrat

joining him on a settee. "She's dead ... a good woman ... he's

unged away--with

s building a house outside of Ermenonville, mansion, I should say. He has a famous collection of Rousseau letters and manuscripts. H

se fussed at Annette. She mumbled about food shortages, prices. Lena mentioned movies and plays--entertainment current in Paris, things she wanted

meet Jeannette. In spite of yesterday's rain it was balmy and he opened his bathroom door that l

ensively, he recalled details of Milan, the shops there, pigeons swooping from rooftops, the great mural by da Vinci

luxurious? He studied the delicately painted rose buds on the basin: still the same. But the silver soap tra

am gushed through a rocky glen,

te Street ... I'll obtain contracts for homes overloo

e held a towel against his

roof, the church, the Nonette, converging, spreading. At a certain intersection he imagined meeting former friends, schoolmates. He had rejected any renewal of relationships: what have they for me or I for them? He hoped nobody would visit him at the Rondes'. He had phoned Jean so there would be no hitch, and she wa

ed on one of the paths: he shook hands with Jean

led. "I want you t

ning on his cane, t

, Orville

A

octor ... it's g

eave

as Robert Sa

ld friends, you and I ... I've changed; so have yo

charge ... t

hat I am ... is tha

she said,

d his cane to p

es ... compulsory cas

entioned th

ean ... we lack equipment. So, so you came back to France to help! My best to Mme. Ronde, and remind her of our d

. "There are many who want to talk, who make trouble." He

her in his arms. Remember her pe

ng," s

like Dr.

ssume he is

s our Albert

a hedge, half-dried daisies around them, the flowers shredded by the ra

as you

ut them in the hallways ... all kinds

en writing a letter ... as I came here Aunt Therèse stoppe

that to me ...

hat Therèse

ess s

the garden, a few of

buried her mouth in his hair, fingers on his face, wondering, vaguely, stupidly, wh

like Ermenonvi

till like

I alway

out w

to move to the States--but a job is a

cle ... he manipulated s

nch has i

ope

our acc

laug

r a walk," h

rought my coat

ll proba

hand they read the Falsum Stare non Potest and laughed because they couldn't translate. The chateau's four stubby spires and slate roof were wet, forl

ted to his

imes ... to rest .

y, tha

something

he war ..

etting

sneak off and paddle the Nonette. Such fun!" He ticked off the years since Marcel's d

ut to the island wher

how co

u know my dad's buried ne

't know

n 1918. The tank was blown up but he had

vil

As for the tanks ... fathe

at ... that's

Lac, swans paddling close to the shore, the g

war around us, the entire world at war!" He w

rld," she said. "There's a w

d a goat on a rope and they were urging him along, his bell tinkling: they seemed to be headed for the nearby cha

ent seemed to impel the island, transform it into a ship: it wa

making said so. Orville struggled with mistrust, concentrating as much as possible on the things around

your photo ... it's in my billfold ... Here, he

let me

ka

ned to your leg? Don't you

ed. That flak s

n ... ri

ur

uck's blindness, when and how it happened; she had to atte

buildings on Dalton Street, reverberating, flinging dust and sew

the hell had died down; yet next day he

somebody who knew Chuck ... so

how we met," she s

.. bad

ag

orget it,

a semi-circular building of limestone, a soft brown limestone shell, its roof and pillars in a bad way; a cou

t's falling down ... I used to play here. See that stone

ut were unable to read the

mple made f

er ... he lived in the

here lots o

the chateau? Is it

the place, the wonderful tapestries in the salon ...

d. "Canoes inste

ood with t

es, I am .

no

, New York, California. But when would mankind return to nature? Rousseau had said ...

to be in E ... lucky to be on l

d. Something, during the last half hour or so, had come between them, as if they both

hair: fog was flowing across the countryside, puffing, swirling, smok

f there's gasoline I'll come in the car

darling." The

ep w

e y

n wet, fog wet. From a rock wall fence he took in the spires of the Ronde place, fog crawling over them, the fog in the pines and chestnut and elm toward the chateau, n

ave, weedy and foggy. Lighting a cigarett

in the war what then? If all of us d

d the shrug brought back pai

moke into

in shape and size--recalled his Ithaca home: h

a stone, conside

house in Wisconsin, for Mr. William J. Bruce, geometry teacher, football star ... thr

t in the fog

aming ou

h in us. Lena has faith in the Maq

sk too muc

ee

rt of f

sse

te into the fog and he

ena was sitting in the liv

, reading. Cognac? Cordial? Whiskey?" She regarded him intently, his fog wet hat and jacket. "I g

id, standing in front of her,

," she said. "The airmen ..

at and jacke

slacks, a bird-pin at her throat, barefooted, ponytailed: sh

adn't change

.. but we've chan

can

.. but if

was just a kid. Seven years ago ... a hell

out coming bac

he time Mama's disoriented

you're one of

he jibed. "More exciting ... do

t matter in the least," he said, sitting besid

s a fighter,

for men'

assy, and narrow-slitted: she was recalling her last parachut

e heard some things! Without you ... it would be

sex conspicuous. She felt his equal, as friend, as lover. As friend and equal she could confide her Maquis experiences: as pa

houlder, her fingers moving along his collar, moving to his face. "Let's try to go on as we were ... We read our Atala and René by the

lf naked, both of them lying by the fire. Lifting the cat o

's J

had been Chateaubriand's characters. Atala, a foolish fabrication. For that matter, so was th

he repeated, envious

do you see her

and t

ke

rea

from Ermenon

now much about Jeannet

n bust, the tapestry, the books, the fireplaces, the g

me of them capable, some over-dedicated: as she talked she appreciated Orville: he was Orv: most everything about

ice, she began sharing her

al ... ambulances ... men coming and going ... doctors ... Maquis ... I was in Marseilles for about a month, stayed with Dad. In Paris I usually stay

ing of flowers and wandering blue. Behind her, framed in narrow gold, matted in grey, was a 17th century

er eyes (as he listened), her guilty eyes, the eyes of war. When she brought a

grin of a hypnotist, the words he could

en

es

r car tomorrow

I'm sure. It must be difficult to get away fro

now about Dachau? We Maquis know ... we ... could he gues

afraid of himself, ambivalence taking over, he continu

wisted mouth, his

the radio ... dance with me, Orv." Then, she b

we couldn't leave her to those blitzes. Do you love ... do you really love

saying?" she a

... not

on of touching this one; he wanted to be near it, thinking, for the moment, as he stood by it, of his mother, missing

is face wit

said ... Zin

pin bust, lingered in front of the fireplaces; then, rubbing his ha

stairway,

ou tom

ath. The click of his bedroom door was the click of Amélie's door: with cold hands she fondled her cat, speculating about tomorrow, the unce

ted bass over his bed appeared with a kind of jabbing abruptness. Jean had laughed a

them, sitting on the side of the bed, seeing Lena's body catwise. What c

an und

d himsel

thought c

ood hardly ever find fulfill

ence

etty well figured out. Not pat, yet ... well ... that new system for track was a good system, based on a series of camera studies of runners: position of the hands whil

his socks o

o wear a copper medallion with

d it aside; at the bottom of the page, in l

y leave ... g

blow them

anks can

and L

dhead ... calm face ...

hand betwe

a man walking along the river, he saw ... a door banged on the floor b

in the m

n the aft

summer than autumn; Bichain had tuned, washed, and polished the car. Agreeing with his suggestions, Orville was to drive

caring for the wounded, appeare

d car! But you know it's going to rain soon ... w

rked out

how Orville that she was more than his

lish. With her effusiveness she asked about Wisconsin, the winter sports: was it true the stat

ver bowl of dahlias between them: a sense of vacuum haunted him: naked superficiality seemed to

ngled, he jerked

gs it bothers me to

the ring, saying it

a pretty nice man." As she lifted her cup, her facial expression became

drinking her tea, biting sandwiches, she might have been a peasant overwhelmed by work

imed, and stalked off. "Have them sit in the di

ked him about the bikes: were they stored in th

key. They're in the linen room. The tires are new. Lena has used one bik

tchen; as Bichain unlocked the door, Orville felt her face against his; his mouth

ur barn," Jean said, fo

g b

e cow

luminated shelves o

y are," sa

asked. "Enough air? Hmm,

e checked the tire and checked the hand brak

o," Orvi

he

.. along th

ka

th Marcel or some school pal ... no details, just the realization that there had been so m

good bike,

a girl's bike,

ka

y could ride a dozen times, ride to nearby places, Senlis maybe: Fra

the way," s

g the Nonette, t

slight slope, willows along one side, the four turrets of the chateau visible. The Petit Lac winked a blue wink. Tiled roofs sloped about a stand of

ite swans at a curve and beyond the curve some men were rowing in a white rowboat. The wat

Jean said. "

e best w

smooth; his handlebars looked down on her squatty ones as they peddled. He thought her

you ride a

. years ago

pedals: all of a sudden France became USA, became Wisconsin, not foreignness, not isolation

ing. Our path e

min

n was

ute narrowed and ended at a barbed wire fence:

andlebars against the wire of the fence. Beyond them, a field of grass stretched to another fenc

hay in this f

ha

e th

aky, beetles crawling about under the bottom step ... Chuck had collec

here?" she mad

he field,

t said it

little thing lik

m g

me you

bout ou

will bot

so fast. My

um

lds had extended toward the lake, downslope, fields between residences and gr

d the

the hospital and its wounded! Orville, she said to herself. "Orv, Orv!" she said, as th

ke a good

our t

estu

it hasn't been torn down ...

ded timber and mismatched shingles, something flung together years ago, just hi

be swell if we could picnic here ... there'

ke it

e bench; straw and hay littered the floor, the

f my clothes." She was laughing at his expression, laughing with anticipation.

ered hay and straw, the horse blanket: she knew how she wa

g, I love you, but busied

ed him, annoyed him: as he took off his clothes he felt he was some sort of damn puritan:

a straw and stuck it into her mouth. Giggling, she took away

te

raw, staring

ow

e straw an

Straws caught in her hair and fell on her shoulders, freckles and straws ... he was captivate

a mosquito bit

lying si

a flea bit y

nked out as

, arches, pillars and bleeding crosses: they were camped on tiny St. Peter's

u've drifted away ... whe

.. look, look there's a wad of hay in your belly but

e you ... love yo

We used to have fun. Did a lot of wacky things.

ll you be wi

tion tro

" he said. "Alm

ant to ask

eyes--faced the

to far, nobody left, only the wounded, her drab quarters in the hospital: w

ught o

over in Pari

o h

na.

e each othe

rs ... ah no ... it does

ou stay

e wants me to sleep with her." He half heard his ow

e was stalling: tryi

en

you're ki

de her sex. The hay and straw became ugly: why was she such a fool, risking pregnancy again? And in this stable! At this time! She was the biggest ass in France! Then,

... another

then anothe

uck, wher

e me love me,

the same time for something had spattered in his brain: a voice, then, a roar, the pressure

d her get

no lon

cuff of her bl

u be fighting

rma

ray, a prayer from her childhood, a prayer her Lutheran pastor had

easier?" he asked, pulling on

ope

easy for you. I want us to have kids. I want us to be happy. It might really happen to us ... we can'

aid, in a strained voice, wishing to say s

le no

ipping on

were above the field. The sun was much

e'll hunt for an apartment. I'd rather get started in Ithaca than anywhere el

The ticket agent was saying ... Kissing Jean, he forced himself to memorize her overcoat, its scarlet

ed walls of the depot, smudged plaster, egg yolk plas

if you can,"

wil

re of yo

u, the same ..

revo

ons: wasn't there something more he should tell Jeannette? Wasn't t

e beat-up train, he gazed at tiny E through filthy windows: the locomotiv

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