by Marc Blake
Matahina takes Philippe kindly by his hand adding additional tension to her personal attendant’s protective concerns.
Again, Claudette gasps, “Huh!”
The driver covers his mouth with one hand.
Matahina speaks to Philippe, “I will need a camera and I will need film for my visit and studies in Paris Monsieur Philippe.”
She draws him to the Rollei in the window.
Philippe is obviously filled with curiosity, “Does this Princess have a name?” He smiles warmly making strong eye contact and urging a response with his own expression.
She answers, “I am Matahina.”
Matahina smiles and for a moment Philippe is hypnotized by her smile and the entire room is silent and still. Matahina’s eyes are mesmerizing and beautiful. Philippe notices this and it consumes all his attention.
Philippe snaps back from his trance. It seemed that time itself had stopped.
“Well, Matahina.”
Again Claudette gasps at the idea of Philippe using her first name with such informality, “Huh!”
The driver clutches in his shoulders now with additional disbelief.
Philippe explains to Matahina, “The camera in the window is for professional photographers. Now, even though I have a feeling you would do a very grand job with this camera I have another that would be just the right choice.”
He walks her back to the counter where other cameras are on display in a showcase. Matahina sees the Polynesian brochure and picks it up.
Matahina points out with an almost homesick breath, “This is my home.”
Nobody quite knows what she is talking about until she makes the brochure more obvious and they see her pointing to a photograph inside.
“On the other side of this bay is where the King and Quee...” she continues without the pomp, “my Father and Mother live. And just over here...” she draws an imaginary line with her finger, “…is Pape’ete. It’s on our nearby of Tahiti.”
Matahina looks back to the window in a dreamlike state and sees the same glowing light and sparkling dust that Merzan saw before.
Philippe notices that Matahina sees something no one else can see while she looks at the window. Philippe’s curiosity and intrigue with this amazing, beautiful and apparently very poetic visionary with royal blood is heightened. His intuition has quickly confirmed that this young lady is special. He likes her and she has already made him feel like they are good old friends.
Philippe pulls out a camera from the case.
He tells the Princess, “This camera would be just the right choice for the charming Matahina.”
Agreeing, Matahina says, “I think so also Monsieur Philippe.”
So Philippe packages up some film and the camera for Matahina. Claudette handles the business transaction while Matahina is looking at a black and white photograph hanging to dry inside the open door of the darkroom.
Matahina is about to ask about the amazing photo when she is prompted to be on her way.
Claudette announces, “There we are then. Merci monsieur. Shall we go Princess?”
Matahina agrees, “Yes. I am ready.”
Matahina turns to Philippe and extends her hand in a royal fashion.
Philippe takes her hand and kisses the back of it simultaneously providing a ceremonial bow.
Matahina turns her head slightly to the side and lets on to the smallest amount approval with a carefully extended slight smile as if to be performing appropriately for Claudette’s and the driver’s expectations.
Philippe, kind of “gets it” and gives her a private wink to which she responds back with private wink. He understands that she has made it clear there is no need for him to put on airs on her behalf.
The group heads to the shop door to exit.
Claudette pushes the morning agenda along, “So we will go to get the wardrobe now and then I’ll help you register at the Lycée Michelet. Will that be okay Princess?”
Matahina nods with approval and they leave the shop.
24 The Lycée Michelet Welcomes Her Royal Highness
Now at the high school, the limo has dropped off Matahina. Things are low key since students are in class and nobody has noticed the unusual situation with the arrival of a Princess to attend the school.
Claudette escorts Matahina to the administration office.
The school secretary finishes helping Matahina with her enrollment papers, class assignments and more, “So, Matahina. You are all set and ready to begin classes. Now, please go to your dormitory and get settled in. So, don’t be late. Your next class begins in just an hour!”
Matahina turns to Claudette, “Thank you for everything Claudette...” then looks at the school secretary, “... madame,” and unpretentiously says, “I am very pleased to be here.”
Matahina leaves the office and walks outside toward her dormitory, dressed in one of her new outfits of local attire.
The sun is still somewhat low in the late morning sky and from a distance, Merzan see her walking. His world stands still. Everything around her, everything about her is glowing. Merzan has never seen or felt what he is experiencing.
Matahina does not see or notice Merzan at all, even though she does glance past his direction at one point.
25 I Am Invisible
There is a week of day to day school activity that takes place. On several occasions Merzan sees Matahina. She never sees him. He’s invisible to her. Merzan is also very private about noticing her and never asks anyone to provide him with information.
Merzan arrives at the camera shop to put in a few hours of work. The door opens and Merzan comes in with a collection of exposed film from various school projects that needs to be developed.
Philippe sees the numerous rolls and says, “So! You’ve been very busy I see.”
Merzan, acting more distant than usual answers, “Oui Philippe. I think I am not a student of Lycée Michelet. Everything is like work now, not art. Merzan shoot this. Merzan shoot that. Only I do not get paid to work monsieur.”
Philippe tries to comfort him, “Oh Merzan. I know your story well. Just because the photographs you are told to take are not interesting to you does not mean you cannot take them in your style.”
Philippe walks to the window and gazes out while speaking. Philippe pictures the Princess gazing out the window the week before. He thinks about how familiar it was to Merzan’s vision when looking out the same window.
Philippe has images of Matahina in the shop a week earlier consume his thoughts while he continues to try to console Merzan.
“Merzan?”
Merzan answers, “Oui?”
Philippe confirms, “Did you not tell me of the beautiful things you saw when you looked out this window the first day you came into my shop?”
Merzan confirms, “Oui Philippe.”
Philippe almost lectures Merzan saying, “Merzan. You are surrounded by opportunity everywhere you turn, by everything you see.”
Philippe uses his hands to help with a grandiose demonstration making his point.
“... and Merzan, nobody can see the things that you see. I do not think you have learned yet what a great artist you are! You see things like nobody else Merzan.”
Merzan with a bit of self pity tells him, “But I think nobody sees me Philippe.”
Philippe turns around from his vantage point where he stood looking out the window, brings his palm to his chin and rubs it with curiosity. Philippe raises an eyebrow to seek the truth of Merzan’s comment. Stands quietly looking at Merzan and slightly rocks back and forth as if he is an analyst forcing Merzan to elaborate on this comment.
Merzan looks up at him and tries to avoid eye contact but Philippe’s silence, patience and analytic dominance forces Merzan to (finally) break the silence and tension in the room.
Merzan confesses, “Philippe?”
Philippe acts surprised as if there was no tension at all from Merzan hiding his inner thoughts.
Philippe plays along
to push the dialogue further, “Oui?” Philippe acts surprised to be involved in this conversation!
Merzan rolls his eyes, knowing he’s been duped into unloading what’s on his mind.
“I have seen something that I have never seen before.”
Philippe questions, “Something?”
Merzan clarifies, “No monsieur. Someone!”
Philippe already “gets it” and holds back a smile to allow Merzan to freely express himself. You can see a bit of glee in Philippe’s eyes like a father proud of his son when learning he’s met his first girlfriend!
Merzan continues, “I saw a girl at the school last week, for the first time. She must be new.”
“A girl?” Philippe pretending to be surprised asks.
“Oui.”
Philippe is going to have some fun with this. Testing Merzan, “So, you have never seen a girl before?”
Merzan, half flustered, “No.” He stutters, “Ah oui. But something is different and I don’t know...” he’s thinking, “I don’t...” he’s now lost for words, “I...”
Merzan is crushed by unanswered feelings and completely unable to compose his thoughts or himself. He walks to the window and looks out.
Merzan regroups his thoughts, “I look out this window and I am blind. I see nothing.”
Philippe walks up to Merzan and pulls him away from the window and sits him down to get to the root of these feelings.
Philippe stops teasing, but keeps the conversation light, “Merzan? Have you spoken to this girl?”
Merzan tells him, “I do not exist.”
Philippe is insistent for a direct answer, “Merzan? Have you SPOKEN to this girl?”
Merzan goes on to say, “She does not see me.”
Merzan sits with his head down. Philippe rubs his chin again to find a way to communicate. Gets an idea and pulls a coin from his pocket.
“Merzan? Do you see this coin?”
Merzan glances upward, “Oui monsieur.”
Philippe uses the coin to perform a sleight of hand trick. He makes the coin disappear.
“Merzan? Now can you see this coin?”
Merzan correctly answers, “No monsieur.”
Philippe, determined, drills him further, “Does the coin exist.”
Merzan considers his answer and decides, “Well, oui, it does! It did.”
Philippe summarizes, “Merzan, it is much easier to make a coin disappear than to make a person disappear.”
Merzan, heartsick, simply says, “I don’t understand.”
Philippe “magically” brings the coin back to view. He puts the coin into Merzan’s hand.
Philippe explains the metaphor, “In your hand is a coin just like every other, oui?”
Merzan answers, “Oui.”
Philippe elaborates, “When this coin is in my hand I can make it appear or disappear. It becomes a magic coin.”
Merzan admittedly confesses, “I don’t understand.”
Philippe digs deeper to provide light to the topic, “When you perform, no! Let me say, when you demonstrate the magic that is yours you have the power to control what people will see.”
Merzan begins to believe he is catching on to the metaphor.
Philippe continues, “Your camera, Merzan, is your magic coin. I have served many fine photographers over many years. Merzan, you have something special and I believe that as soon as you learn to trust yourself you will find that artiste inside that you want to be.”
Philippe stands up and begins using the entire shop like a stage as if he is, enthusiastically, speaking to a large audience with the authority of a great philosopher.
Philippe orates, “Do not think about who sees you. Focus on what you can see. There are great powers that control the destiny of an artist. The artiste is unique in our society. It is their job, though some will refuse to accept this truth, to guide the world by establishing a foundation for which others can build and enjoy their lives. The composer gives us music to carry our emotions and caress us when we are sad, or alone, or afraid. The musician interprets this composition to help us find our way back to a place of peace and harmony so that a bad day can become good. The painter tricks us into believing the world can be what we imagine it should be. The painter shows us the beauty that we know should be in our lives and also warns us of the evil so that we can be strong enough to fight back temptation. And the actor takes us away from our own life on a journey to a place that teaches us things we were not able to learn on our own. The artist is the true philosopher and even with these very magical gifts, many never see the artiste.”
Philippe uses his hands to make an imaginary coin disappear with sleight of hand. He holds up two fists, then pops them open to show that there is nothing to see.
Philippe and Merzan, in perfect synchronization, both say the exact same thing next, “And the price the artiste pays is often starvation and loneliness.”
Philippe and Merzan look at each other and smile a bit. Then Philippe gives a slight nod of his head, opens and closes his eyes simultaneously as if to say, “and there you have it!”
Philippe’s demeanor is back to a normal temperament, “So, tell me about this girl Merzan.”
Merzan sighs and takes the deepest, longest breath of air. He recites, “Her eyes could light the entire room. They are like the morning sun reflecting off the ocean.”
Merzan goes to the Polynesian brochure and picks it up.
Pointing, “Her eyes are color of the water on these photographs.”
Merzan’s words become dreamlike, “Her hair is long and black with gentle waves. It looks as if it is being caressed by the hands of angels. When she walks you can feel a light breeze lift and carry her every move. And when she smiles...”
Philippe is fascinated by Merzan’s descriptions.
Philippe joins in with what Merzan is saying and, again, in perfect synchronization, says the exact same thing as Merzan, “...the world goes silent.”
They look at each other surprised to have finished each others sentence, a second time.
Merzan adds, “I do not think she is French. I do not know anything about her. I do not know her name. But there is something about her that I can not explain.”
Philippe, still mesmerized by the vision Merzan paints of beautiful Matahina, “... And when she walks she seems like she is floating on a cloud of light.”
Merzan reacts with zealous excitement, “Exactly! As if heaven has delivered her...”
Philippe interrupts Merzan, “Her name is Matahina.”
Merzan tries, “Mata... what?”
Philippe repeats, “Her name is Matahina.”
Merzan is stunned, “You know this girl Philippe?”
Philippe tells Merzan, “She has been in my shop Merzan. She was here the first day she arrived in Paris.”
Merzan wanting to know more, “Arrived in Paris?”
Philippe elaborates, “Matahina is here as part of a cultural exchange Merzan.”
Merzan trying to digest what he’s hearing, “Arrived in Paris?”
Philippe answers, “Oui! This is so.”
Philippe takes the brochure from Merzan’s hands and shows him the photograph where she pointed her home to be.
“She is from here. She lives on the other side of this island,” pointing, right here!”
Merzan asks, “Then she is not French?”
Philippe explains, “Well, she is French Polynesian.”
Merzan is pondering what he’s hearing, “French Polynesian? Mata... What?”
Philippe helps Merzan again, “Matahina. She is the Princess of Mo’ore’a, one of the outer islands of Tahiti.”
Merzan is becoming dizzy, “Princess of Mata... Mora... Mata?”
Philippe clarifies, “Matahina is the Princess of Mo’ore’a.”
Merzan collapses back on the stool, grabbing back the brochure from Philippe. Dumbfounded, perplexed, Merzan stares nowhere, the brochure hanging from his fingers.
The c
oin falls from Merzan’s other hand and rattles to a stop when it hits the ground. Philippe picks it up and places it very deliberately into Merzan’s hand, then closes Merzan’s fist tightly around it.
Philippe whispers, “Matahina!”
26 This is not what I Expected
Back at school there’s an ongoing montage of school activities. Merzan sees Matahina. She never sees him. He’s busy with photographing events and going in and out of the camera shop to develop film and make photographic prints. Matahina interacts with other students and is getting along fine, fitting in without much emphasis as to her royal status.
Three months later, a student assistant finds Merzan in his dormitory and hand delivers a note from the front office.
Merzan reads the note, “Merzan L’Granaré – Report immediately to the Headmaster’s Office, signed.”
Merzan looks up trying to gather his thoughts.
Merzan thinks to himself, “I cannot read this signature.”
He keys in on the word, “immediately?” and wonders what can be the problem?
Merzan walks over to and enters the administration office.
The school secretary is very serious this time, “Ah! Merzan. Just sit down and wait s’il vous plaît.”
Merzan has no idea why he is there. He sits. Five minutes pass.
He occupies his time sitting there by studying the details of the interior office with its elaborate crown moldings and other periodic ornately designed trim.
After 15 or 20 minutes, the outer office door opens. There is an obvious squeaking from the sounds of the old oil-lacking hinges.
Merzan turns his head and looks toward the brightly backlit doorway.
Someone is coming in but he cannot make out who.
Then he sees long flowing hair and realizes it must be her.
He sees Matahina walk in. Merzan’s heart stops and all sound is silenced.
Her eyes seem to illuminate the entire room. This was just as he imagined.
Merzan is breathless. Almost frightened by her presence.
Merzan’s mind is reeling and he thinks to himself, “I have done nothing, no?”
Matahina does not notice Merzan sitting there. She walks right by.