“Is it weird?”
“What?”
“Calling me Maria. I know you loved her.”
“I did love her, and will always love her. But, we have a duty to France.”
“Do you love me?”
“I believe so, but whether or not I love you, it’s our duty to perform.”
“Maybe we aren’t supposed to have an heir.”
“Maybe, I, not you, am destined to never have an heir. My first daughter has passed, most of my sons are deceased, my daughter is sick, and my current heir looks like he is knocking on death’s doorway.”
“Louis is fine. He just needs more sun.”
“Which Louis? There are hundreds of us. I’m a Louis, all my son’s will be Louis, and all the women are Maria. It’s confusing!”
“Honey, calm down, sit with me on the edge of the fountain. There, stare at the stars as they’re reflected. I talk of our son, Louis the future Duke of Burgundy!”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s sun that will save him. We can hope, I doubt I will ever see the throne but one of our children will.”
A woman and man step before a massive circular fountain. Small droplets of water caress their faces as she releases a giggle of excitement. The man chases after many French men and women like a lost puppy. Most are busy on their cell phones or discussing business as they pass the fountain. One man, a simple man with a bowler hat and gray suit, stops near the fountain. The man runs to him.
The man doesn’t try to speak French because he cannot, “Sir, do you speak English?”
“Of course, it would be a travesty against my name to not speak multiple languages.” It was perfect English with a slight hint of French accent.
The American was polite and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Pierre, Pierre Bourbon of the house of Bourbon.”
“Oh.”
The man smiled and extended his hand to the American, “Please, I will take your picture.” The two lined up in front of the fountain; mist dancing around their bodies, with each droplet dispersing the light Pierre said, “Cheese!” The photo snapped, and he looked down at the LCD screen and saw millions of rainbows scattering from behind them. They began to walk towards him, but he held up his hand and spoke, “No, no! We must have more, the light, the light is magnifique.”
“What will you do with my family?!”
“That’s none of your concern my King. Oh sorry, you aren’t my king anymore, and you should have thought about that before marrying that Austrian whore – Maria Antonia. I can’t wait till she pleas for my men’s embrace.”
“She was not a whore! She is royalty.”
“Royalty is no more. Long live the republic, you pig! Soon, your blood will run in the fountain in the garden.”
“Please… not by the fountain.”
“Ha, you dare plea with me?”
“Not the fountain, please, kill me here. Just, I beg, I can give you jewels, jewels that are hidden. Please, not at the fountain.”
“Oh and why is that?”
“It is special, my mother… my mother fed me at the fountain.”
“Then the fountain it is, you swine!”
“Maria, it seems but a few moments ago that I held you in my arms and we conceived our newest child..”
“Ah, but my Louis it has been a year or so.”
“That night, here in the garden beneath the stars—“
“The stars were magnificent in the country side. But I miss our fountain, our magical fountain. A fountain that gave us our first strong child.”
“He will be the sixteenth king. Watch, soon, he will be the sixteenth.”
“Here, hold your lovely child. He has finished eating.”
“My little star, how beautiful you are.”
“Louis, do you ever wonder why all of you are called Louis?”
“It is a proud family name. I am Louis, my father is Louis, and my sons will all be Louis. There may be hundreds of us, but it is tradition! Who is my little boy? Yes, yes, you are!”
“What about Pierre?”
“Ha! That’s the name of peasants.”
“Just seems to be too much, if Louis becomes king, he will be the sixteenth… I want to call him Pierre, or, or Antoine. I want him to be unique, I want him to be the first not the sixteenth!”
“My father would have your head for words like that. And it doesn’t matter to me, I shall be dead when he ascends the throne.”
“These are stunning!” The American woman was reviewing the pictures and lost in the world Pierre had built through a lens.
The American man shook his hand, “You must be an artist! Or are the French all this good with art?”
A laugh, “Please, it is not I that was great, it was the fountain, the light, the wind, and, of course, the two of you. I was just in the right place.”
“That’s beautiful, you French are amazing. Did you just come up with the light and wind stuff?” The man was still shaking Pierre’s hand.
“Yes, it’s my personal philosophy that the people are but a character that plays within the environment. Our goal is to capture the environment and save, all paintings, pictures, and stories. These are just a way to freeze time and keep a world available for all generations. We, humans, are simply trappers. Take this place for example.”
“The garden?”
“Yes.” Pierre walked and sat on the edge of the fountain, mist enveloping him as he smiled in the summer sun. He licked his lips and focused on the two foreigners and exclaimed, “You stand in a place that has seen kings, queens, and peasants. Not to mention that masterpieces of art work from around the world, pilfered from the hands of our enemies, reside here. Imagine, at one point, all of the artwork in France was the personal property of the King. Depending on the time, you would have been an enemy, a friend, or even a slave. And, the world around us has hundreds of portals back to these times. You must go and open these worlds, save in space by artists. For you sit, my friends, at the center of Pari!”
“Do you want to spit on him?”
“What if he gets free?”
“Ha, the man is to be executed in a few moments. I can’t wait to place his head in the fountain.”
“Why doesn’t he speak?”
“They cut out his tongue… well I cut it out… so he cannot speak to the crowds and use it to save himself.”
“Seems smart. We wouldn’t want another revolution.”
“Yea, I spit on this pig. Fat on the work of us, the workers, and he dare, he dare make demands.”
“What demands?”
“As I cut his tongue, he spoke of his wife, Maria the Whore! Please, save her, there is gold, jewels, she knows where they are. Despicable, first he tried to bribe me not to kill him, then to avoid the fountain, finally he arrived at his precious wife.
“But, maybe he didn’t know she was to be executed?”
“That’s why I told him right as I was preparing to cut it out. It was fantastic, whimpering and then silence. Do you want to see it?”
“The tongue, no, no, so what are you going to do about Maria?”
“Ha, the whore is next. You hear me pig, the whore is next. She will be slaughtered in your blood. The men are done with her.”
“He is crying.”
“Even pigs cry when they are led to slaughter.”
“What if it’s for his wife?”
“The whore? Ha, this man knows it’s his time. He cannot feel for the whore. I hope I get to do his children, from their blood, France will rise like a phoenix!”
“We’re killing the kids? Oh my, he is crying harder.”
“Of course, he sees it is in position. It’s time my little piggy!”
“Why the kids?”
“The royalists would use them. Now, quickly, give me a hand. There are a lot today.”
“So, my American friends, where are you visiting next?”
The American woman pulled out a map with all of the landmarks in Paris. She pursed her lips, they slackened suddenly, and she explained, “Well, since today is Bastille Day, we’re going to”—she didn’t attempt to speak it with a French accent—“Place dee la Bastille. We think it is a must do.”
“Pierre, would you like to come with?”
“No, no, my family has had some trouble with this day in the past.”
“Oh, what happened?” The woman pried.
“Well, did you know that they executed Louie the Sixteenth in this garden?”
The woman and man both brightened up, but the man beat the woman to words, “Wow, Paris is full of some wonderful history!”