Gastien Pt 1

by Caddy Rowland

  “I was disciplined a lot by my father growing up.” Gastien showed no emotion.

  “That is not discipline, Son. That is cruelty! I am sorry that happened to you.”

  “It is over now. The worst part now is that everyone who sees my back asks about it!” he laughed, making a feeble joke.

  The doctor traced one with his finger. “If it is any help to you, they will lighten with time. The scars will always be there, but in a couple more years the redness will fade to white. They won’t be as noticeable then.”

  “Well, I am glad to hear that. It gets old talking about it.”

  “Oui, I imagine it does. Let’s not dwell on it anymore then, Gastien. Let’s get rid of those head lice! Do you want your head shaved?”

  “NON!” said Gastien strongly. “If possible, I want to keep my hair.”

  “It is not necessary to take it off, but wouldn’t you like it cut?” asked the doctor, surprised.

  “Non, merci. I am an artist. Someone had a vision of me painting in my own studio. I was older and had hair below my shoulders. It will be a unique feature that sets me apart, I think.”

  The doctor hesitated. These bohemians! They were always dressing strange or doing something to their looks that was not mainstream! “Understood. I would suggest going to a barber, though, to get the ends trimmed and some shaping. That will make it flow better until it gets longer. They will also have some tonic for your hair to keep it from falling in your eyes. There is a good, reasonably priced barber just down the street.”

  “Great! Merci, I would love to get this hair out of my eyes! I also can’t wait to get a real toothbrush and tooth powder. That is something we never had on the farm, just old fashioned picks and herbs.”

  The doctor agreed, “Yes, the toothbrush is a great invention of this century. Unfortunately, too many people still don’t use it. If you want to keep your own teeth you will start using one with a jar of powder.”

  He was treated with the tea tree oil, which did burn slightly, but not as bad as Gastien thought it would, then he shaved. Next, he showered and shampooed again to get the tea tree oil out. Then he applied the lotion. He was very pleased to see that the doctor was right. The redness disappeared.

  The doctor checked him over to make sure he did not have anything else wrong. Amazingly, he got a clean bill of health. The doctor beamed as he looked at him. “Gastien, you are basically a very healthy, fortunate man. It has been a pleasure treating you. I wish you the very best in your future!”

  “Merci, Dr. Morel. I feel like a totally new person! Hey, Mic! Just in time!”

  “I hope you like the clothes I picked out. No waistcoat or anything formal like that, but good, warm clothes. I hope they fit.” Mic then whistled. “Hey, my ami is handsome again! There go all the women, back to him, I guess. Once they see him I don’t stand a chance!”

  “Mic, it has been so long I can’t remember how to act around a female,” laughed Gastien, “Although I do plan to remind myself as quickly as possible!”

  Dr. Morel cleared his throat. “Do we need to have a discussion about the dangers of syphilis before you leave? I know the temptations out there for men your age. I would hate to see you cut your life short.”

  Gastien sobered. “Non, I know about syphilis, doc. I will be careful. No whores for me. I will choose carefully, but I will be choosing as frequently as possible.” They were all laughing as Gastien went to put on his clothes.

  Mic had done well. It felt wonderful to put on clean, new underwear, trousers, and a shirt. He also put on a new sweater. Mic had chosen a rich, warm brown with gold flecks throughout the yarn that matched Gastien’s eyes. The boots fit well, the clothes were just a little loose. That was fine, because Gastien planned on filling them out as quickly as possible! He was hungry and, for once, he was going to eat his fill for dinner.

  He checked himself over in the full length mirror in the dressing area. He thought the clothes looked great. It was also nice to see his face again. He stuck out his tongue at his reflection and made a face. Chuckling, he left the room.

  As he walked into the waiting room both of the other men stopped talking. The nurse had come out from another room. She stared at Gastien, spellbound.

  “Mademoiselle, close your mouth, please!” chided the doctor to break the silence. “It will not do to drool so over a patient!” They all laughed, while the nurse blushed along with Gastien. Catching her eye, he winked at her and smiled kindly, which made her blush more.

  Gastien’s looks had changed over the past few months. Although he needed to put a few pounds back on, the changes in his face took nothing away from his previous looks. The huge eyes still made him look sweet, but they now had soul. They reflected the pain, the cruelty, the disappointment, and the fear that only life on the streets could teach. There was loneliness in their depths, and hunger. Anyone taking the time to look into those eyes could get lost in their depths. Yet he could turn those eyes into such a frigid stare it would go straight to your heart and rip it out, or make those eyes so intense that the person his stare was trained on could not hide anything Gastien wanted to know.

  His beautiful mouth was less soft now, had a firmer look to it that spoke of someone who knew hard times and how to deal with adversity. There were no age lines yet, but the face had the look of steely resolve, which added masculinity to the sweet eyes and lips. He had grown in a few short months from cute to arrestingly handsome, yet unusually masculine. He was now fully a man, with an intrigue about him that was like a magnet.

  The doctor thought, heaven help the women of the 6th! Some hearts will be broken in this district. If husbands and fathers were smart, they would keep their females under lock and key with this one running about.

  Mic was thinking, it should be against the law to have those looks. But what I would give for them! At least I will get the ones he does not choose each night, because he will definitely draw the ladies! Mic smiled bigger.

  And the nurse thought….well….she would not put into words what she wanted to think about. She needed to maintain her composure.

  Gastien looked at everyone. “Oh, come on! I am just Gastien. My looks aren’t that spectacular that you all have to keep staring at me! I am getting embarrassed!”

  Mic cleared his throat. “We are just so glad to see you cleaned up! It is good to have my ami looking healthy again, even if he is going to get all the best women. If you weren’t my best ami before, I would make sure you were now! Even you won’t be able to service them all!” They all laughed again.

  Gastien raised an eyebrow. “You never know. I plan on trying to.”

  The doctor laughed again. “Spoken like a true eighteen-year-old! Time to pay up your bill, Gastien. Can’t keep those ladies waiting! Oh, by the way, four blocks west is a widow that is hoping to rent a couple of rooms. I suspect they will be clean, safe, and reasonable. It is the pale yellow house on the corner. Tell her I sent you. I think you will like it there.”

  “Excellent,” Gastien said. “Mic, you are going to need a room soon since you are graduating. Maybe we will each take one!”

  “Maybe,” Mic said. “Oh mon Dieu! Hopefully it won’t be next to yours. I don’t think I will be able to stand knowing every time you have gotten lucky and I have not…”

  They were walking out the door. “Oh, please. You don’t do so badly yourself!” Gastien was saying as the door closed.

  “Well, one can never get enough chatte,” Mic replied.

  “I do believe you are right. I plan on working my way through every decent conne in Paris before I am through,” bragged Gastien.

  Mic looked at Gastien. “I do believe you just might do it, too. But, first, let’s get you a place to do that in.”

  XXVII

  Mic and Gastien walked over to the rooming house. The woman who answered the door was a widow in her fifties, petite, with graying hair and kind eyes. “Bonjour, Messieurs. My name is Madame Debeaunet. You must be looking for rooms, or at least
one of you must be. Please, do come in.” She ushered them into a parlor that had seen better days, but was very clean. It did not really matter to Gastien that things were a bit faded. He was not going to spend time in the parlor.

  “I actually have two rooms upstairs that I want to rent out. My husband passed away two years ago. Unfortunately, I find that I am running low on funds.” She looked at them sadly. “I never thought I would end up having to be a landlady. But, then, I never thought my husband would die so young, either. I will show you both rooms, although they are pretty much identical. They are not fancy, but they are clean and the beds are new. I wanted to make sure that since they are small, they had some advantage. So, if you choose to rent here, you will be the first to sleep in the bed.” She stopped talking and looked both of them over. “You are both very young men. I want to stress to you that I am a landlady, not a madam of some whorehouse. Forgive my crass language, but you must understand that I will not have my reputation tarnished. If you choose to rent here, the room is not for entertaining women in your beds. Or, for that matter, other men! One never knows anymore in Paris. Do I make myself clear in that regard?”

  Mic almost choked when he heard that one. He could not see Gastien accepting anything that would restrict his pursuit of chatte. He himself wanted to entertain as often as possible. Gastien surprised him when he said, “I don’t have a problem with that at all, Madame Debeaunet. I want a room that is clean and warm, preferably in a home with running water so that I can keep myself clean. If you will now forgive me if I speak boldly, I would rather have sex somewhere other than where I room. I don’t want to be bothered by women coming to my room when I am sleeping or working. When they want me, they will have to find a place to have me.”

  The landlady looked him up and down. “Oui, well, I doubt you will have much trouble finding women more than happy to accommodate whatever needs you may have in order to get the job done.” She smiled. “You are quite the looker, and your friend here is not so bad himself! I take it you, then, would be the one looking for a room?”

  “Oui, Madame,” said Gastien. “I am, although perhaps my friend Mic, here, will want to have one of the rooms. I don’t know. Mic, are you ok with the rules?”

  Mic thought a moment. “Well, not really. But I guess I can live with them if the rent is reasonable enough. Let’s see the rooms.”

  Madame Debeaunet looked at him. “I will take your word that you will obey my rules if you decide to rent. But any hanky panky and you will be out on your ear, do you understand me?”

  Mic nodded. “Understood. I am sure it is difficult for you as a widow to need to rent out your home. I will respect your wishes. There are other places to have romantic interludes.”

  “Ahhh,” said the woman. “The differences between the two of you are becoming apparent. You speak of romance. You are looking for love. Your friend here, he is looking for release. I wish both of you luck in those pursuits. Of course, if you have a nice young lady you get involved with you may bring her for dinner and to sit in the parlor. I would gladly cook a nice dinner for a small fee and chaperone.”

  Mic smiled. “I hope I am lucky enough to find someone to do that with.”

  She turned and looked at Gastien. He shook his head. “Sorry. Not me. I am married to my paintbrush. Any woman I entertain will know going in there won’t be a courtship toward romance and marriage. If a woman wants me, she takes me for the moment. That is all I have to give.”

  The landlady smiled. “Then I suggest you be very careful about who you allow to “seduce” you Monsieur. It is not very nice to break a virgin’s heart. And whores carry some very awful diseases in Paris.”

  “Yes, Madame, I know. I am not looking to break in virgins, merci. Nor do I care for whores.”

  She studied him and finally understood. This handsome young man was prepared to service wealthy wives who were bored or in need of physical attention their husbands were too lazy to give them. Also, perhaps the occasional working class girl who was not above a tryst or two before marriage, but did not make a habit of it. Well, who was she to judge? If he loved his art like he said he did, then he would be much better off without a romantic commitment. “Be careful, dear. Women can say one thing and mean another, you know. Make it very clear what your intentions are.”

  “I will be very clear. If they mean something other than they say, that will be their problem.”

  She shivered. He was a very handsome man, but rather cold. She wondered when someone would come along, setting his heart on love. Never, she hoped. Because something told her that he would fight it all the way, and love would lose. “Well, you told me your friend’s name here, it is Mic. Mic, it is nice to meet you. And your name is?”

  “Gastien”

  “Mic and Gastien, let’s go look at those rooms.”

  Both rooms were quite small, but as she had promised, they were very clean. They each had a nice window. With the small coal stoves, it would get very nice and warm in those rooms. There was a single bed with a new spread on each, a braided rug on the floor. The wooden floor glistened from just being waxed. In addition, each had a small armoire for hanging clothes, a small bureau, a comfortable looking chair, and a washstand with a very large bowl on it. Both men thought her quoted rate was very fair. . They each said they would take a room. Mic let Gastien pick which room he wanted, as they were identical except for the colors in the spread and rug. Gastien picked the one with the brightest colors, while Mic got the room with the muted forest tones.

  Gastien asked, “Can I move in immediately? I would also like to pay for a full year up front.”

  The landlady smiled. “Oh! That would be wonderful indeed. Do you read and write?”

  “Oui, Madame, I do.”

  “Even better! Why don’t you go get your things while I write up something that says you have paid for a year?”

  “That is fine. I need to go shopping for a few things,” responded Gastien.

  “I will give both of you keys to your rooms and the house now. I don’t care what hours you keep. Come and go as you wish. I am a heavy sleeper, so if you don’t create unusual noise, I won’t wake up. Come, I will show you the toilet room. There is a sink outside of it where you can take care of basic needs like washing hands and brushing teeth. The kitchen is where you can get hot water for your washbowls. I do not have a bathtub, not many do unless they are wealthy. If the bowl provided is too small, you can always buy one or two more. You can make do with those, as I am sure you have been doing for years. At least you will have an indoor area for toilet needs!”

  Both men were happy. They did not expect tubs or even a shared tub. Just to not have to go outside to relieve themselves would be an extra perk. Paris was becoming more and more modern!

  Mic was going to pay month to month, so he gave her his first months’ rent and she gave him his room key. Then, she gave Gastien his and said, “You can pay tonight when we sign the document. I look forward to sharing my home with you. You can also sit in the front parlor whenever you wish.”

  After thanking her, they left to go get Gastien a new coat, a few more new clothes, and some personal items. He was very much looking forward to looking good again – and to brushing his teeth!

  Gastien was careful with his money, but he also chose clothing that was well made, so that it would last. He bought two more pairs of light brown pants, six shirts, and one more sweater. The shirts were pretty basic fare. They were ivory and good all purpose shirts, except for two that he bought in dark brown. The second sweater was a burnt red color and looked good with his dark brown, almost black hair. He also purchased more underwear and socks, a new coat, gloves, and a beret. He bought one more pair of boots, too. Then, he bought a men’s dressing gown one size larger than he would normally wear. Artists used these to cover their clothing while they painted, because paint invariably got on the clothes. Then they went to a general store where Gastien picked up personal items, including that much wanted toothbrush and t
ooth powder!

  He still had enough money left to eat for quite some time and have some fun, or to pay another year’s rent if he got a job. He headed to a bank to secure a safety box. He would be able to get money out as he needed it. He did not want an account, as he did not trust banks much. But he needed his money somewhere safe, so the box would do for now. When he had his own studio he would have a safe hidden somehow so that he did not have trust others to manage his money.

  They hauled the purchases back to Gastien’s new room. Mic would not be moving in for another week, closer to graduation, so he would slowly transition items over. Madame Debeaunet had the contract ready for Gastien to sign. “Thanks, Madame. We don’t mean to be impolite but we have not eaten since early this morning. Do you mind if we take off to a restaurant without staying and talking?” asked Gastien.

  “Heavens, no, that is just fine. I don’t expect you to keep me company. I want you to come and go as you please without asking permission. This is now your home. Have a wonderful dinner tonight!” She pushed Gastien’s hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut, dear,” she said. Already she wanted to mother both of them, but Gastien seemed the most needy, even though he acted the most calculating.

  “Well, I am growing it out. I want long hair. It will be my signature look when I get to Montmartre. It will get trimmed up tomorrow. Hopefully, tonic will keep it out of my eyes,“ he said.

  Mon Dieu! Why in the world does he want long hair, she wondered. Those artists! They were always doing strange things to their looks. Ah, well. He would look good with blue hair down to his butt if he chose. She just smiled. “Well, I am sure you will look very nice. I think my tea is boiling, have fun tonight! And remember – “

  “Don’t bring home any girls!” both Gastien and Mic chimed. They all laughed.

  XXVIII

  The two friends headed over by the restaurants most frequently haunted by other painters, writers and actors. They ended up at the Cremerie Restaurant Polidor (called simply Polidor by all of them) with about ten others who were already there. Mic knew a lot of people, because his infectious smile caused everyone to like him. Some knew Gastien already, some did not. The ones who did had wondered where he had gone and welcomed him back, no questions asked. Soon conversations were flying around the table about art, writing, fashion, wine, and – of course – women.