One Way Roads

by Erik Foge

  In the foyer, Erik saw two distinguished-looking gentlemen in dark gray, three-piece suits; one wore Club Master Eyeglasses. Erik thought to himself, the OSS has arrived and it is none other than Edward Wilson. He eavesdropped on their conversation as he walked by.

  “That’s the problem. We don’t even have a photograph of him and know vaguely what he looks like. All we have is his name, Joe Turner, and a sketch.”

  Just as Erik placed one foot out the hospital, someone grabbed his shoulder. He whipped into combat mode and used his peripheral vision to see who was behind him: Edward Wilson. Jamie’s eyes widened, and she hurried off toward the parking lot.

  “Excuse me, doctor, can you tell me on what level the recovery floor is?” Edward Wilson asked.

  “That would be level two,” Erik replied straight-faced. “Have a good day.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” Edward walked away, and Erik stepped outside, delighted with his performance.

  Jamie pulled up the car and opened the door. Erik slid in. “Who were those guys in suits?” Jamie asked as she drove quickly away.

  “OSS.”

  16. PROMISE KEPT

  “For you see, each day I love you more. Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.”

  — Rosemonde Gerard

  Paris, France. September 1944.

  Jamie stepped out of the bedroom. Her radiance was blinding, and the only thing Erik could do was to stand there mesmerized. She wore a brilliant form-fitting, ruby-red evening dress that enhanced every curve. Her makeup was stunning, from the eyeshadow that made her lustful brown eyes glisten in the light to her astonishing red lips. She sauntered toward him, left him speechless, unable to utter a single syllable.

  “Hi, professor.” She did a slight bow and stared seductively at him. “I’m ready, but guess what?”

  Oh dear God, if it isn’t enough that she looks amazing, I have to play guessing games. Still tongue-tied, Erik motioned as if to say, “What?”

  She whispered that she was wearing a white lacy garter belt with nude stockings. He tried to remain calm but failed and gulped. All he could do was think, God, I wish there was room service and that we didn’t have to go out. He extended his arm; she hooked hers in his, and they headed out on their way to the Eiffel Tower.

  Though the war in Europe continued, Paris had been liberated from the Germans, so it was once again a happy place to be. Jamie and Erik joined in the recent celebrations with great excitement—he’d never thought he’d actually participate in something he’d read about in history books.

  They walked arm in arm down Rue Bonaparte. Dusk was falling, the sun’s warmth slowly faded under a steel gray sky, and the sound of traffic bounced off the buildings around them. The small café at Quai Malaquais was full of people with warm smiles, enjoying tiny cups of coffee and eating pastries, while cars, trucks, buses, bicycles, and countless people, including Allied soldiers, streamed by on the sidewalks. When the traffic light turned red, Erik and Jamie crossed quickly. The light posts in the tree-lined street were still dark, however. Erik knew the lights wouldn’t come back on until after the war was over in 1945.

  Erik attempted to wave down a taxi while trying to recall the word for taxi in French. Jamie smiled and told him. Oddly, it’s the same word. He used his best French accent to yell “Taxi!” but he failed to be understood and thought to himself that Paris hadn’t changed at all since he was here last—many years in the future. They continued walking and took in the raised lettering on storefronts and dim-white lighted doorways and windows. Despite the hustle and bustle, people were relaxing in this warm evening.

  In the distance, Erik heard a deep, thick, French accent repeatedly yelling, “Major!” He paid it little attention and he and Jamie continued walking and looking for a taxi. A moment later, a well-dressed man in a three-piece suit approached him. Erik prepared himself for the worst, but the man opened his arms and gave a warm smile.

  “Major, it’s so good to see you again.” The old man’s blue eyes were filled with delight. “How have you been?”

  “Do I know you?” Erik asked, thinking that the man could have memory loss or a case of mistaken identity.

  “You do, indeed.” The man grabbed Erik’s hand and squeezed it firmly, then looked at Jamie and said, “He’s a great man, a saint.”

  She smiled and pulled Erik closer to her. Erik thought the man’s mind was completely lost, and he just smiled back. “Where have I met you? It has slipped my mind.”

  The man shook his head in disbelief and poked Erik’s chest, but his eyes remained friendly. He explained to Erik and Jamie that he had met Erik at a petrol station on the outskirts of Bernay. Erik, now realizing who he was, nodded and grinned, while Jamie listened with wide eyes.

  Erik looked the man in the eye. “I don’t know your name.”

  “D’Artagnan Astor, at your service, major,” He replied.

  “I’m Er…”

  D’Artagnan cuts Erik off. “Major, I know who you are and what you did, and I and the people of France thank you.”

  Baffled, Erik asked, “What did I do?”

  “You liberated Paris.”

  “Excuse me?” He shook his head, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. “I did what?”

  “You liberated Paris.” D’Artagnan turned to Jamie. “Is he always this modest?” Jamie nodded and D’Artagnan looked back at Erik. “Major, since you liberated Paris, how can I help you?”

  Erik motioned to Jamie that he needed to speak with D’Artagnan alone. She smiled, mouthed okay and stepped away. Erik beckoned to D’Artagnan to follow him, and once they were a good distance away from Jamie, Erik turned to D’Artagnan. “How did I liberate Paris?”

  “You knew the date, and my son told me you were with the OSS and your mission was to liberate France with Rommel.” Erik tried to get a word in, but D’Artagnan continued. “Eisenhower must think highly of you to carry out such an operation.” D’Artagnan looked around and then whispered. “What else do you have planned for the Nazis to fail?”

  “Who is your son…?”

  D’Artagnan gave a dismissive gesture and waited for an answer.

  Erik sighed. “Yes, the Nazis are going to lose this war, but it won’t be anytime soon. It will happen, though.”

  “What can the French people do to help?”

  Erik smiled. “I’ll need to think it over, but if I need your help I’ll let you know. Wait, yes, there is something.” Erik pointed to Jamie, who smiled back at him. “You see that lovely lady?”

  D’Artagnan nodded.

  “I’m going to propose to her.”

  D’Artagnan butted in. “I know the perfect place…” Raising his hand in the air, he whispered, “The Eiffel Tower.” Erik smiled in agreement. “Then I will take you to Le Jules Verne to end the evening perfectly.”

  “But I don’t have a reservation.”

  “Nonsense, I know the owner, and it won’t be a problem since I’ll be bringing the individual who liberated Paris from the Nazis.”

  Erik grinned. “Sounds great. Let’s go.”

  Erik strolled over to Jamie with his hand extended.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise.” He took her hand.

  Jamie grinned with delight, and her eyes shined with expectation.

  “D’Artagnan will be driving us.”

  D’Artagnan led the way to his car, which was parked nearby, and opened the back door for them. Jamie and Erik climbed in, and D’Artagnan closed the door and made his way to the driver’s side. He got in and proceeded down Quai Malaquais and gave them a guided tour. When they reached the Pont Royal Bridge, D’Artagnan pointed across the river to the École du Louvre and explained that it was an educational institution dedicated to archaeology, art history, anthropology, and epigraphy. Jamie whispered to Erik that he could teach history there, but only if he were able to speak French.

  At the Pont de la Concorde Bridge, D’Artagnan t
old them that if they looked to their left they would see a building with stone columns and raised bold letters that read ASSEMBLÉE NATIONALE. They looked across the bridge and also saw the Luxor Obelisk. Jamie asked what it was, and Erik told her that it was nearly 3,300 years old and marked the entrance to the Luxor Temple in Ancient Egypt. He deliberately said it loudly so D’Artagnan could hear him and correct him if he was wrong. D’Artagnan nodded and added that it had arrived in Paris in December 1833. King Louis-Philippe had it placed in the center of Place de la Concorde three years later.

  The traffic grew heavier as they proceeded deeper into the heart of Paris, but that didn’t stop D’Artagnan from pointing out historical locations like the Paroisse Saint-Paul Saint-Louis Cathedral . Then D’Artagnan made a slight left and pointed to the Eiffel Tower in the near distance. Erik tapped Jamie’s arm and pointed as well. She looked ahead, and her eyes enlarged with excitement; then she hugged him tightly and kissed him so thoroughly that Erik felt all her passion and desire.

  The Eiffel Tower, with its silhouette enhanced the shape of the metal structure, rose higher in the sky as they drove closer, and the streets became more alive. Jamie took in everything around her and her eyes filled with joy. At the base of the Eiffel Tower, the streetlamps glowed around the square where countless people waited to go up. It had become a popular outing since the city’s liberation because no one had been allowed up during the German occupation. D’Artagnan swung the car around in front of the tower and stopped. He got out and opened the door for Erik and Jamie, but two members of Sûreté Nationale approached him and ordered him to move the car immediately. D’Artagnan spoke to the police officers and pointed toward Erik.

  “Babe, what’s he saying to them?” Jamie asked.

  Erik just shrugged.

  D’Artagnan and more members of Sûreté Nationale approached the car. Was this a trap? How could he have been so easily fooled? Erik looked to see if the keys were in the ignition. They’re not! Shit! Then he remembered, same as the Kübelwagen, there were a primer and a choke. I wish I had my VW Phaeton. He looked around, analyzed the situation, and prepared himself to do whatever it took to escape with Jamie by his side. It was almost dark now. They could stick to the shadows. Great way to propose to her, Erik thought, fleeing from Sûreté Nationale, being shot at and popping the question…how romantic.

  D’Artagnan opened the door and Erik leaped to his feet, but to his surprise, the members of Sûreté Nationale smiled and extended their hands. He shook each hand in turn, and they repeated, one after another. “Thank you, major.”

  Dear God, in 2008 I’m hated by half the French government, and they would’ve loved to see me dead. But here, just because I told one person when Paris was going to be liberated, I’m a national hero. Jacques would never believe this, nor anyone at the agency. Erik looked back and extended his hand to help Jamie out of the car, and then the members of the Sûreté Nationale, with D’Artagnan in front, escorted them to the stairs while everyone stared, pointed, and whispered.

  “Does everyone really think you liberated Paris?” Jamie whispered.

  Erik grinned. “Apparently.”

  D’Artagnan motioned.

  Erik and Jamie came to the front of the line where more people greeted them, shook Erik’s hand, and thanked them. Eventually, they got to the stairs with D’Artagnan and began their ascent up the Eiffel Tower. D’Artagnan looked over his shoulder with a smile. “How are you doing, major?”

  Erik grinned back. “To be honest with you, I really don’t know.”

  “You have nothing to worry about; you’ll have a wonderful evening.”

  “How much do I owe you for your troubles?”

  “Troubles?” D’Artagnan raised his eyebrows, but his eyes were bright and warm. “You owe me nothing. It’s the people of France who owe you.”

  Wow, that’s the first time a French person actually said that to me. Erik thought.

  D’Artagnan looked at Jamie while he pointed at Erik. “He’s a good man; you shouldn’t let him get away.”

  Her smile glowed. “That’s why I love him, D’Artagnan, and I won’t.”

  They got to the second level, where Le Jules Verne was located. D’Artagnan turned around to face Erik. “Major, I would like to inform you the top floor is not reachable at this present time. However, if you want to propose to her, go around the corner.” He waved goodbye, and Erik nodded and grinned.

  Erik escorted Jamie as they walked around the corner and explained they couldn’t get past the third level of the Eiffel Tower because the elevator cables were cut to prevent Hitler from going up in 1940. They headed to the edge and held each other. Jamie laid her head against Erik’s shoulder, and they stared over the city of silhouetted buildings against the blanket of night.

  The streets of Paris were defined by lights on vehicles. Soft white lights that normally illuminated the windows were covered by boards at night, blending into the dark buildings. Erik took a deep breath and drew a ring box from his right pocket. He opened it, pulled out the engagement ring and stepped back, gently disengaging her arm. Then, he looked into her eyes, he asked, “Jamie, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  Jamie looked at the sparkling marquise diamond engagement ring in Erik’s hand and gasped. Her eyes moistened with happiness. “Yes, I will,” she whispered and nodded vigorously.

  Erik’s heart leaped with joy. He gently raised her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger. Jamie threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately while he held her close and rubbed her back.

  This is the greatest day of my life. Nothing will ever be able to match it, Erik thought.

  Their lips separated and he felt the warmth of her breath. Then he wiped the tears from her face. She stared at her engagement ring as if she were mesmerized. Erik took her hand, led her back to the restaurant, and they were again greeted by D’Artagnan who was waiting.

  Erik smiled and nodded to D’Artagnan, indicating that Jamie had accepted his proposal. D’Artagnan grinned and hugged them both and offered his congratulations. A thundering roar of applause consumed the second level. People walked up to Erik, thanked and congratulated him, and D’Artagnan escorted them to the entrance of Le Jules Verne, where they were greeted with open doors and smiles. The owner of Le Jules Verne, Aramis, a short, heavyset man with an overbearing belly, a handlebar mustache, and wide-set, sparrow-brown eyes, made his way toward Erik and Jamie and gave them a warm welcome.

  The Le Jules Verne décor was reminiscent of an airship from the early twentieth century. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the vast city of Paris, and recessed lighting honeycombed the metal ceiling, cast a soft light over the dining area. The deep ruby-red carpet gave the room a warm, comfy feeling, and ornate plates, cutlery, and glasses glistened on tables covered in chocolate linen tablecloths. Black metal-framed chairs with maroon and chocolate fabric completed the picture.

  Aramis discreetly congratulated Erik and Jamie on their engagement and showed them to their window table for two—the best in the establishment. Paris lay below them in a sparkling grandeur from the moonlight, extended from an assortment of buildings that extended all the way to La Tour Montparnasse. The moon, low on the horizon, peeked between the clouds and rose above the Seine River, which twisted and curved under its bridges.

  Jamie reached for Erik’s hand and stared at him with love in her eyes. Erik smiled. After all the hardships they’d had, she seemed to love him more than ever.

  “Have you been to Paris before?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “When you were here, did you do this or were you with the…?”

  Erik gently grabbed her hand and leaned forward, nearly touching her lips. “I was here on business.”

  She mouthed, “CIA?”

  He nodded. “I was never in this restaurant, or for that matter, never took a girlfriend to Paris. You’re the first.”

  “Were you going to bring me here and propose in the same
way?”

  He nodded and kissed her gently.

  Their first dish looked like a piece of artwork, light and elegant. It was gratin moelleux de macaroni truffé, jus de veau perlé, a truffle macaroni gratin served on a rich, pearly veal juice. Black truffles filled the tubular pasta which was presented as a crown, topped with a shaving of parmesan cheese.

  “It tastes heavenly,” Jamie said after a taste.

  Later Aramis returned and asked how they were enjoying their meals. Both Erik and Jamie nodded. Then Erik excused himself and asked Aramis to join him for a short walk.

  When he was far enough away where Jamie couldn’t hear, he said, “I’d like to thank you and your staff for the amazing hospitality.”

  “You are very welcome, major. We’re delighted to have honored guests such as you and your fiancé. After all, you liberated Paris.”

  Erik shook his head in disbelief from hearing this all night. “I did not liberate Paris. The US Army did.”

  “Come now, major, I know you had a part of it.” Aramis became a little defensive, but his eyes remained friendly. “D’Artagnan said you even knew the date Paris was going to be liberated. You must be a spy.” Aramis raised his eyebrows in curiosity, as he leaned forward in a half whisper, “Major, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “I’m not a spy, I’m an analyst. I just read books.”

  Aramis doubled over with laughter, then placed his arm around Erik and looked him in the eye. “You are funny, major. D’Artagnan didn’t tell me you had a sense of humor.”

  “How much do I owe you?” Erik asked.

  Aramis’s expression became stern. “Nothing major. You’re a hero of the French people; everything is on me.”