by John Farris
Her hands were knarled up, in bad shape and a little shaky besides when she showed me the label on the bottle. I took it from her like it was a treasure and she nodded then looked at where Ramses was going to sit she thought and I nodded too and then I opened the bottle. It was a Bordeaux but I dont know much yet about vintages. Special I suppose.
She stood there watching while I poured a glass and tasted it the way you are supposed to. Then she looked again at the other glass and kept nodding and smiling so I poured that glass half full too.
And thats it. Nothing else happened while I was there. I sipped my wine and had another glass besides and the wine I poured for Ramses just sat there on the table, was still there with firelight shining through it when I left. By then Madame Couderc was on a high stool behind the bar with a feather duster in her lap and nodding like she was half asleep. She didnt look up or say "Au revoir come again."
And now I bet your nodding half asleep and saying to yourself Geezo Pete, Alex, that was no ghost story. But wait.
At dinner that night when it was my turn to "join the conversation" I wrote in my book that I had been in Coudercs that afternoon. Alida (Dr Martorell's wile who has lived on or near Rive Gauche most of her life) said oh have they reopened? "Where?" I didnt remember the street name I only knew that I had been curious to find the little bistro and my feet had taken me there. (I didnt write anything about my dream). But I wrote that I had had a glass of wine from a bottle I was sure Madame Couderc had been saving for Ramses return to Paris.
Alida just looked out the dining room windows at the back side of Notre Dame and said no Alex, Mssr. Couderc was killed in the war and Madame passed away was it four years ago? There is a curio shop where Coudercs used to be. You must be thinking of another bistro. There are so many within a short distance of Place Maubert.
What could I do, Francie? I just shrugged because by then Yvie was giving it to me and I was embarassed. But I knew I couldn't be wrong.
That was about five weeks ago. Every chance I get since then I go down to Boul' Saint Germain and work my way north towards the river through that maze of narrow streets. Carrying a map with me. Marking off each adress on every street. There are bistros, all right. Plenty. But the Bistro Couderc's not one of them. It was there on that afternoon in October but its gone now. Vanished along with the white haired old woman and the glass of Bordeaux I left on the table in the booth for Ramses.
Did that wake you up? Do you feel a little shuder down your backbone?
I still do.
Either Im a total nutcase, or else—
Theres something about me that they like. You know what I mean, Francie.
Mally told me once on the depot platform that I had an "afinity" for the Crossing. Or something like that.
Whatever it is, its better than being crazy, dont you think?
Your friend forever (I hope)
Alex