Someday in Paris

by Olivia Lara

  His mother. Yes. She did, in fact, disapprove of almost every kind of ‘people’, except for the ones in her circles. Although Leon didn’t understand her desperate need to fit into the snobby groups she and his father frequented, he tried not to judge her too harshly. Just like he tried not to judge the ease with which she had sent him away, or her lack of contact throughout the year. He knew she loved him in her own way, and he loved her too. And watching Nicole’s pain, even when she tried to hide it, over not having a mother, made him appreciate his even more. But that didn’t mean she didn’t exasperate him sometimes or disappoint him. Like now. Even if he’d expected some resistance from his parents, he hadn’t thought they would be so obtuse and unwilling to give Zara a chance. No, she didn’t have Nicole’s money or Vincent’s titles, but she had Leon’s heart.

  From that day, Leon stopped talking to his father about Zara or Monet. The two things that meant so much to him – he would keep them to himself. At least until he was older, happy with Zara and had the Monet in his possession. Then he would go back to his parents to prove them wrong.

  He also stopped mentioning his family to Zara, afraid she would ask what they said when they heard about her.

  Leon would’ve loved to talk to Nicole about Zara, but Nicole was so stubbornly against the mere idea of Zara that it was like talking to a wall.

  ‘I don’t get it, Leon. I thought you’d get over it. It’s been months. If you don’t think about her, you talk about her. If you don’t talk about her, you write to her.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed,’ said Leon sarcastically.

  ‘Why? Because I stopped bringing it up? I’m bored, that’s why. And honestly, I was kind of waiting for you to get over it and go back to normal. It’s been months—’

  ‘I will not “get over it”, Nicole. And I hope she won’t either.’ He sighed. ‘I really like her.’

  ‘You like her like her?’

  ‘I do. I more than like her like her. I’m sure you get this feeling too, with Vincent – when you’re not with him, you miss him, and you want to spend every waking moment together.’

  Nicole hesitated for a moment. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, that’s how it is for me too.’

  She patted his hand. ‘But I can go see him if I want to. You can’t. That’s why this doesn’t make sense.’

  It hurt, because she was right. In a way, at least. Not being able to see Zara was getting to him. The letters just weren’t enough anymore. He longed to see her. Day after day, all he thought about was how to get back to Colmar.

  That night, he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to come up with a plan, as he did most nights. But that night, something felt different. Something was wrong. He started feeling sick. So sick, he tried to get to the doctor’s office on the second floor but couldn’t get up from bed. Couldn’t even lift his head. He banged as hard as he could on the wall, hoping the boy in the next room would hear. But nobody came. And his face was burning, his eyes so hot and painful he couldn’t even open them anymore. He couldn’t breathe properly. Couldn’t breathe at all.

  ZARA

  24 FEBRUARY 1955

  COLMAR

  Zara already knew she and Leon had a connection, but it wasn’t until one night in mid-February that she realized how strong and deep that connection truly was.

  That cold winter night, Zara couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning, going in and out of a dream. And in her dream, a woman with long hair, round glasses and a white dress caressed her forehead, then walked away. Zara felt like her whole body was on fire and couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  ‘I can’t breathe,’ she said and held out her hand, trying to make the woman stay.

  ‘I will take care of you. Please relax. I won’t leave your side. Just close your eyes.’

  The woman placed a mask over her mouth and nose. Zara’s head hurt. She looked around from her bed but didn’t recognize anything. Unfamiliar noises and sounds. Everything smelled like bleach and chlorine. She coughed and woke up, drenched in sweat and screaming.

  It was still dark out.

  Her mother rushed into her room. ‘What is it, angel? Did you have a bad dream?’

  Zara grabbed her hand so tight she made her mother exclaim in pain.

  ‘It’s alright, I’m here. Do you want to tell me about it?’

  ‘I was in a hospital bed I think, and I was sick, very sick and a woman took care of me. But if all felt real, Mama, like it was actually happening. But…’

  ‘But what? Tell me.’

  ‘Although it was real, I knew it wasn’t happening to me. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s as if I experienced it through someone else’s eyes.’

  Her mother sat on the bed next to Zara and looked at her with a strange, absentminded look. ‘I wonder,’ she said, almost whispering.

  ‘What is it, Mama?’

  ‘Have you met someone?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Zara and gulped.

  ‘Recently? Have you met a boy maybe?’

  ‘How did you…’ said Zara, blushing.

  ‘You have,’ said her mother.

  Zara brought her knees to her chin and hid her face.

  ‘It’s alright, angel. Don’t be embarrassed. You know you can talk to me about anything.’

  So Zara told her. How she’d met him, how they’d been writing to each other. Everything.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ said Zara. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘The dreams,’ said her mother and smiled. ‘They start around the time our paths cross theirs.’

  ‘What do you mean? Whose path?’

  Her mother took Zara’s hands in hers. ‘There’s this story – well, story might not be the right word. It’s a belief. A belief that’s been passed on from generation to generation. I don’t know when it all started, but apparently, all the women in our family have experienced them.’

  ‘Experienced what?’

  ‘These dreams. My grandma called them reveries. She started dreaming when she was fifteen, and so did my mother. I, on the other hand, didn’t have my first dream until I was in my second year at university. I was pushing a rusty lever up and down, and the same song kept playing over and over, while small yellow lights moved around me in circles. I heard a scream and ran to where it was coming from. A little girl was dangling from a high bar. I knew that if she fell from there, she would die. I jumped to catch her. Then I woke up. And when I did, I knew. It wasn’t like any of the other dreams I’d had before. Because in this one, I wasn’t dreaming as myself. I was someone else. I saw it through someone else’s eyes. Although I didn’t know who it was.’

  ‘Just like me,’ whispered Zara.

  ‘And just like you, I told my mother. That’s how I found out about the reveries.’

  ‘What are they? Nightmares?’

  ‘No, my love. They are the connection. The unbreakable connection.’

  Zara stared, confused.

  ‘How can I explain this? Your grandmother believed that everyone is connected to someone. Everyone. Only most people aren’t aware that this connection exists. They go through life not searching for it, not even being open to it, because their minds tell them such a thing is impossible. They get married, have children, have a good, even great life sometimes, not knowing that somewhere out there, there’s someone else they were meant to be with. Not their wife or their husband. Someone else. They might have moments when they feel something is missing, or feel lonely despite not being alone, or even question their happiness. But, as it usually happens in life, they soon forget about it, fill the void with something else, and move on. But we are not most people. Once we become aware of the connection, we can’t ignore it or forget it. The dreams won’t let us.’

  ‘Mama, really. This sounds like one of Grandma’s stories,’ said Zara, giggling.

  Her mother laughed. ‘That’s what I thought at first too. Your grandmother did have a big imagination. Reme
mber her stories about strigoi and solomonars? Ghosts and wizards?’

  Zara chuckled, thinking back to all the fantastic, unbelievable things she had heard from her grandmother when she was a child back in Romania.

  ‘Why did you believe her then?’

  ‘Because I met your father.’

  She got up and walked to the window, looking outside at the street covered in darkness.

  ‘A few days after that dream, my friend and I went to the last night of a traveling carnival. A street fair that moved from city to city for the summer. When I got there, I saw in the middle of the attractions an old carousel, and next to it a big, white Ferris wheel. I heard the song from my dream, and I saw the lights. I recognized them. I rushed to the carousel, knowing it was there, somewhere. That big, rusty handle. And it was. It operated the carousel. And I could see the Ferris wheel from there. And the bar where that little girl, whose face I didn’t see, was hanging by, in my dream. I couldn’t believe it. And then a voice behind me asked if I wanted to go on the carousel. I turned around and—’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It was your father,’ she said, her eyes smiling. ‘Immediately I realized something. I knew his voice. I had heard it before. Once. A few days before, at school, he passed by me, humming the lyrics of “One night of Love”.’

  Zara grinned. ‘His favorite song.’

  ‘It was after that, yes. I went on that carousel ten times that evening. And by the end of the night, I knew he was the one, and I knew my mother was right. I even asked him if there had been an accident with a little girl a few nights before.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He seemed shocked. He said it was an almost accident. He caught the girl in time.’

  ‘Amazing,’ said Zara, her eyes wide with wonder. ‘Grandma wasn’t making it up?’

  ‘As hard as it is to believe, no, she wasn’t. The dreams are real. The connection is real and I’ve always thought of it as a wonderful gift. But it can also be a crippling curse.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because once you start dreaming about them, you can’t stop. You can’t let go of the possibility. Even if you can’t find them. Even if years pass. You might meet other people, people you have feelings for, but it’s not the same. Because in your heart, there’s room for only one. And you’ll search for them, even against your will, in every smile, every voice, every person you meet.’

  ‘But you find them, right?’

  ‘Not always. And…’ Her mother paused. ‘I pray this won’t happen to you. But there will be times you wish you could stop the dreams. Times you will want to give back this gift you didn’t ask for.’

  *

  ‘Are you making this up, Mamie?’ Valerie asks, amused, and leans over to see what I’m reading from. ‘This thing about the dreams?’

  She reminds me so much of myself when I heard about the dreams for the first time. Same doubtful raise of the eyebrows, same incredulous look, even the same words. This is why I am telling her the story. All the details. So she doesn’t make the same mistakes I made. But I can’t force her to believe.

  She reads for herself the last few lines. She grabs my arm. ‘This is just a story, isn’t it? It’s not real. These dreams are not real. There’s no “unbreakable connection”.’

  ‘You’ll have to make up your own mind about what is real and what is not, honey.’

  *

  ‘Mama, if all this is true, does it mean Leon’s life is in danger? In the dream, he seemed sick. What if he needs my help?’

  ‘Nobody can tell you what the dreams mean. The answer is in your heart. And sometimes dreams are simply… dreams. Even for us.’

  Zara didn’t go back to bed. She couldn’t. What if something had happened to him? The next morning, she waited for his letter. But nothing arrived. That night she wrote to him, asking him if he was alright. She didn’t tell him about the dream because she didn’t want to seem odd, but she couldn’t stand by without doing anything.

  ZARA

  28 FEBRUARY 1955

  COLMAR

  Three days passed with no news from him. She wanted to go to the baker’s wife – the only person she knew in Colmar who had a telephone and wouldn’t mind if she used it – and call his school. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. She could feel it.

  On the fifth day, she finally got a letter from Leon.

  Dear Zara,

  I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I haven’t been well. I am good now though, thanks to a nice lady doctor who took care of me and… actually, thanks to you. I dreamed about you. I had pneumonia, and I scared the doctors with my high fever. They didn’t know if I was going to make it and said I was lucky because somehow, I pulled through.

  How did you know I was sick? Or maybe you didn’t and just asked me how I was since I haven’t written in a few days.

  In the dream I had when I was sick… you were here with me. I couldn’t see you, but I knew you were there. Right after that, I woke up, and the doctor told me I was out of danger, and I was going to be alright. I know this sounds crazy.

  I have been thinking a lot about you, and I want to ask you something. I’d like to try and come back to Colmar, even if it is only for a few hours. I want to see you. What do you think?

  Leon

  Zara read the letter again and again until she lost count and the words were spinning around in her head. He had been so sick he almost died. Just like in the dream. Was her mother right or was it just a coincidence?

  ‘Did Daddy ever dream about you while you dreamed about him?’

  ‘What do you mean, angel?’ asked her mother. They were sitting on a terrace in the square, bundled up in thick blankets and sipping their hot cocoa.

  She pulled the letter from her pocket and read it to her mother.

  ‘If he did, he never told me. The truth is I don’t know. You see, these dreams don’t come with instructions. Just like the connections we have with people don’t come with guarantees. Just because you dream of the person you love, it doesn’t mean it’ll end well. Your great-grandmother spent her life searching for the man she dreamed of and ended up marrying someone else. A good, kind man she cared for, but not the one her heart longed for. She was unhappy and died regretting the love she never had. It consumed her.’

  ‘Do you think Leon’s dream means we have a different kind of connection?’

  ‘I wish I had the answers you’re looking for, but this is something for you to figure out. It’s part of your story. Perhaps it’s too soon now for answers.’ Her mother smiled. ‘What will you do? Are you going to see him?’

  ‘Yes. Although I am scared he might not like me. I’m afraid I will disappoint him.’

  For almost three months she had been daydreaming about him but now that he’d mentioned coming back to Colmar, she was nervous. She worried about his reaction.

  Zara had never thought of herself as a pretty girl, and the mocking and name-calling of the other kids didn’t help either. With her curly red hair, freckles and protruding green eyes, she seemed like an easy target. And it didn’t help that she cut her hair short and wore large overalls to hide her skinny legs. The funny thing was, she never considered that she might not like Leon. That was impossible. She liked him, and it didn’t matter if he had black eyes or brown, if he was skinny or not, or if he had big ears. She would’ve liked him even more if he had red hair and big green eyes, so they could be like two twin frogs, leaping away together in the world. She liked him unconditionally. Eyes closed.

  ‘You are a beautiful, smart, special girl. Don’t ever think you’re not good enough. And if he’s who you think he is, he will see all these things in you. He probably already does.’

  LEON

  9 MARCH 1955

  VAUD

  The moment he got better, even before that, he knew what he was going to do. When he was sick and the doctors were worried he might not make it, his only thought was her. Zara.

  ‘I n
eed your help,’ he said to Nicole when he got out of the clinic. ‘I have to go to France.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I want to see Zara.’

  ‘Obvious but pointless. Even if you manage to get there, you still have to come back to school. You’re in for heartbreak, my friend. This whole thing is going nowhere. I mean, it’s nice you have a pen pal, as I already told you, but I’d stop at that. Long-distance relationships don’t work.’

  ‘How did you get so wise?’

  ‘I have more life experience than you do,’ she said, all smug.

  ‘Oh, do tell.’

  ‘It’s not like I’m some silly girl, you know. I read books and watch movies; besides, Vincent’s sister was in love with a soldier stationed overseas. And that didn’t go well.’

  He scoffed. ‘Will you help me or not?’

  ‘I can’t. I’m sorry. If the headmaster catches me…’

  Nicole was not one to follow the rules or shy away from a challenge. Leon pushed again.

  ‘Since when are you afraid of the headmaster?’

  ‘Since I got two warnings. You know what that means. I’ll be expelled. Then what? I’ll be stuck in Paris, in some average school and living with JJ. No way.’

  ‘Is this really why you won’t help?’

  ‘What do you mean? Why else wouldn’t I?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’ve been against Zara from the beginning. I feel like I can talk about her with Vincent more than I can with you. Don’t you find that strange?’

  ‘Why don’t you? Go talk to Vincent for all I care. Believe what you want. I just don’t want to get mixed up in this. Helping you go there to meet some ghost girl you think you are in love with and getting everyone in trouble for your obsessions. Not doing it.’

  ‘I don’t need you to do anything dangerous. Just to find out which senior class is going on that field trip next week, and who already said they’re not going so I can take their place.’