To the Paris of our dreams

by Tomas Goncalves

  At some point, he just decided to get out of the hotel and wander around. He didn't care. Somehow, he was begging Paris to give him an answer. Anything that would make him meet the love of his life around the corner, or maybe he would get into a pub and would make some true friendship with people that would just listen to him, people that he could listen to: the most incredible people in the world.

  But no. It wouldn't be this way.

  Love was in the others. Happiness, friendship. There's nothing more depressing than to see happy couples, or friends living their lives together on a beautiful night like that. Having so much fun, being happy, being simple. Their happiness just meant to get a bit tipsy and get lucky enough to bring someone home to fuck that night. Maybe find yourself making love. Or for just having their comfortable houses, not only physically, but also emotionally: The most unattainable, hard feeling to create: The feeling of being home.

  You know what you do in this situation? You get into a coffee store and look at all the night souls that for some reason are in a coffee place at almost three in the morning in the middle of Paris.

  You try to listen to some music, but it seems like no music can truly reach you, so they all kind of annoy you.

  You try to use the internet, but there's no one out there that'd make you company, or news, or videos or nothing that can help you. Eric finally got a cab and went back to the hotel after an eternity in that coffee place. “I can't believe this shit is happening again.”

  Hell is lonely. Hell kills all our expectations. Hell is silent and still.

  Eric didn't remember at what time he fell on his bed: He actually was never able to remember how he got there, and he still had to face some time alone, awake in that huge bed, that felt so big and intimidating.

  “She just doesn't love you, dude. And you're just desperately holding yourself to a seed of a feeling because there's nothing else that you can hold on to at this moment. You don't love her. Just leave this city. You don't need that girl to feel happy: To hell with her and her family. To hell with that fucking poser of her new boyfriend. They're probably breaking up in a month, anyways. You know that”

  Before finally falling asleep, he felt like everyone he had ever knew was laughing at him.

  By the next day, he spent a long time on his bed, looking at the ceiling, before getting up. He was trying to remember what would make him leave that room. And his thoughts were interrupted by a phone call: It was Richard, saying his parents called him to send him all the information about the trip to St Jean de Luz, to spend Eric and Isadora's birthday, his younger sister (for a millisecond, Eric had to put a lot of effort to remember his sister's name) . Eric was confused about all of that “What is he talking about?”, when it hit him: He had called Richard a few hours before to tell him he was going to accept his parent’s invitation for a trip together. Then, he had passed out. “Oh, perfect. What the fuck did I just do?”

  In the days that followed, he tried as hard as possible to entertain himself. He even thought about getting in touch with people he had met in Paris, but he never did it. He just wouldn't have patience for anyone at that moment. Besides, he was not being Eric Meirelles those days and those people would want nothing to do with his real personality.

  On the third day, he walked by this small coffee/bookstore. He was tired of walking and he could use something to eat, so he decided to follow his instinct: He turned back and went inside the bookstore. There was only one young salesgirl, who gave him the brightest smile when she saw him getting into the store. 'Hey!' and waved at him. Eric did the same back, but probably not as friendly as she. Didn't matter.

  The bookstore's interior was really nice and cozy. An old-school bookstore, with comfy chairs and couches, nice lights, quiet. A completely different universe apart from Eric's world...or from the streets of Paris at that time, for all that matters.

  He ended up getting completely oblivious looking at all the books, cds and movies around him.

  - Hey! Can I help you with something? - The girl just appeared beside Eric

  - Sorry? - He got completely surprise by her sudden approach

  - Oh sorry, didn't mean to bother you – She smiled – Are you looking for something in particular?

  - Hmm, no problem... Not actually. Just looking around. - At that moment, Eric noticed she wasn't French. Something in her accent.

  - Ok, no problem … Let me know if I can help you... - “What’s with this girl? She doesn't stop smiling”

  - Ook...Ok

  She shook his head, as saying “oh ok. I get it. You don't want to be disturbed.” … And then she smiled ...again.

  Eric kept looking at the books, but he was completely out of it. It has been forever he hadn't got into a bookstore, or talked about books with anyone. He had no idea what he was looking for. Maybe a couple of years since the last book he had truly finished...What was he doing in a bookstore again?

  He looked at the girl, to call her attention and maybe ask some help, but she was far from him, and distracted doing something behind the counter. He kept looking at her, but kept she turning or looking at other things, and it seemed like she wouldn't look at him again. He definitely didn't want to have to scream, or have to go until her face to call her attention.

  In this limbo, he actually looked at the girl. Not the salesgirl, but at the girl. She was pretty and had beautiful, strong legs, and even over the jeans, you could notice that. He finally saw what was distracting her: a book. He saw it because he was slowly getting closer. Once again, when he was still looking at her legs, and at the cute way she was moving them while reading, she finally noticed him. Looking at her legs.

  He moved his eyes away as humanly possible.

  - Yeaaah? May I help you?

  - Hmm? Yeah... no, sure. I was...hmm looking at books here...

  - Hmm ook – She raised her eyebrows, with an ironic smile on her face.

  “I'm looking at books here? Fuck, that was really good Eric”

  - No, sorry. - He smiled - I mean... I was looking for books... but I'm kind of lost, so I was wondering if you could help me to find something.

  She looked at him, and seemed to analyze him for a second.

  “Fuck, I look like an imbecile”

  - Sure! - She finally said, very excited, leaving her book behind the counter. She was smiling again.

  “Wait, What?”

  - So what do you have in mind?

  - Hmm, I don't know... I'm looking for some books to pass some time.

  - Ok … What kind of books do you like?

  Eric shrugged his shoulders. They turned their heads to the shelves.

  - Great, so you want a book to read... - She said, with a very serious look in her face

  “Auch” Eric couldn't help but smirk.

  -Yeah, that would be the ideal... But you know, I'm all up for books to draw on too...

  She smiled back

  - Great, you do indeed look like a drawing books guy...

  Eric smiled

  -Yeaah I am... I think regular books are very mean sometimes, big words always scare me...

  - I know, right? ...Uhum... Let's see then... - She was smiling too.

  The movement in the store was very small at that point, and there was a small cafeteria inside the bookstore. Eric sat down and was having a tea while they kept talking. Soon enough they realized they were both from the same city – Yes, she was Brazilian – She sat down with him and they started talking intensely – About the books she had recommen
ded him, about their favorites books, movies, about Paris, the French culture, a bit about themselves – Once in a while she'd have to go help a client that would appear, but the friendship between them was instantaneous.

  She had tried to speak a bit in Portuguese, but Eric, for his own surprise, didn't feel comfortable at all doing it. So they switched back to French. With a difference of three years, they would have been almost neighbors: Eric's parents had a beach house near where she lives with her parents back there.

  She was twenty one years old, was living in Paris with her aunt (the bookstore owner and a writer) and her uncle, an university professor, who was French. She was being housed by them, and even getting a bit of money working at the bookstore, which was “good because she was trying to save some money to backpack, after the year she was planning to stay in Paris”. She was at university, but didn't get used to it and so she was taking a break (thanks to her aunt mostly, who was helping her). She had had difficulties with French and was having a hard time missing her friends and being near a beach. She was happy, she said: She was working, learning French and reading as much as she could, enjoying it as much as she could, for a bit more than four months now.

  Eric complimented her on her French, and she clearly got very proud about that. Listening to that nice girl, with her blue eyes, so clear and pure, speaking about life with such passion, was very pleasant to Eric. He didn't speak much about himself, even less about his profession. She just knew he 'was living in the states’, being a musician and that he had family in south France. He was not lying, technically, right?

  Just like that the evening went by and it was almost time to close the bookstore, so he invited her out for dinner... and she accepted. And... And... And...

  They had dinner in a tiny restaurant, a la française, with some incredible good food – Eric couldn't remember the last time, before the Montini dinner, where he actually have had a nice meal. After dinner, they started to wander around, getting a beer at some point and then walking all the way to her house. Alice was her name. And her blond hair, nice perfume and pure blue eyes had made Eric remember how much excitement you can take out of a good conversation. He had bought nothing less than four books from her. Excellent salesgirl.

  - Keep up being a good customer and I'll forgive you for checking me out – She said, jokingly.

  Eric couldn't help but laugh.

  Alice was the second person from his hometown that he had ever met in almost six years that he had been an expatriated.

  His last thought before passing out on his bed was Marie. But he wouldn't remember that the next morning.

 

  A whole day passed, and Eric didn't know what to do. Maybe he should've left already. What was he waiting for? To Marie try to reach him? Seriously?

  That was indeed the plan.

  So he spent most of his day at the hotel, with ghosts of his past. Something was screaming inside of him to go to the phone, but he didn't know who he should call. Ok, let's correct that, he wouldn't know what to say. Ok, once again, he wouldn't know who to call first and what exactly to say. His life was perfect and the last thing he needed to do was dig into his past looking for fictions problems to solve. No, he definitely didn't need that.

  His life was perfect and if Marie didn't call him in the next three or four days, he would go back to do what he was good at and he would leave that possibility, that bad call, somewhere to be forgotten in the past. It wasn't hard. They were masters at doing it.

  Eventually he was able to take a couple of naps, which would have been nice to someone with insomnia, but he was having too many dreams, which was making his brain feel tired. He was not affected by them, though. He was sure of that.

  When he got fed up of all that cycle, because he was just wasting his time, he took a shower and once again he went to walk around. Consciously or not, he ended up at the one place he thought he shouldn't have gone: That bookstore.

  - Bonjour, Eric! - Alice opened the biggest smile when he stepped in

  - Bonjour Alice, ça va? – Eric also couldn't help but opening the biggest smile ever this time.

  - So once again in our humble bookstore?

  - Of course, I like it here...Besides, I need help to spend my time - “Way to go, Eric” - Ah, you know what I meant – He smiled at her

  - Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Thanks, most of the time I'm here by myself anyways... sit, sit. So, yeah...Sometimes I spend like an hour without a single soul to talk to...I always try to use this time to read.

  - Well, thanks to you, I now have four books to read back in my … room – He almost had said 'hotel'

  - My job, right?

  Eric smiled

  - Hmm I see... - He sat down in front of the cafeteria again - And do you intend to make an art of it?

  - Absolutely

  - Nice...

  - Ahem... Well, I want to be a writer, since I was fourteen I think. And selling books is just something I found myself enjoying to do. So in some way, I turned out to be completely like my aunt... well, when it comes to professional aspirations, at least.

  - Interesting... Well, I wish you the best of luck with that...

  - Thanks – She smiled

  - No problemo … So, hey, would you mind if I spend some more time here today?

  - Not at all, would you like a tea?

  Eric smiled again

  - ...Sure, thank you.

  - Chamomile again?

  - Peppermint today, please

  - Ok … So tell me, we never talked about it yesterday. How long are you here in Paris?

  - Just a few days...

  - And what are your plans?

  - Plans? … I don't know. What about you?

  -... Hmm, as I told you already, my plans for Paris are pretty straight forward... Learn French, save some money to travel some more, learn a bit of my aunt's profession... that's basically it. Live a bit, you know...

  - I see... So where did you go visit here in France so far?

  - A bit... not that much, actually. I travel a bit everywhere around, let's put it that way.

  - Surprise me

  - Well, I went to London, Madrid, Lisbon, Toulouse, Lyon, Nice, Rome and Berlin. You know, the essentials. - She smiled – But it's been a couple of weekends that I decided to settle down a bit more here in Paris. So many other places I'd like to visit though...

  - Cool. Did you enjoy it?

  - Yeah, a lot actually.

  - Didn't you just insinuate that the work is a bit boring sometimes?

  - Hmm... I wouldn't say that. I like it. Besides, my life here is not only work, right? It's pretty nice.

  - Hmmm Ok. Makes sense... So writer, eh? That sounds tough, no?

  - ... Yeah... But as I said, I'm also finding out that I like to sell books. It seems a bit simplistic, but I really enjoy it. There's a bit of poetry in that. Sharing and... Helping to spread knowledge and art or something like that.

  They both smiled

  - Again, makes sense...

  - And what about you? Tell me more about you...

  - Well, I travel a lot. I don't quite have a home, I'd say... And I came to Paris because I had some free time and some things to deal with... and now I'm just spending some more time before getting back to the states.

  - Hmm what kind of things?

  - … A g
irl

  - ...I see, what happened? - She smiled and made a funny face “Oh, interesting”

  - She got back to her ex-boyfriend after I left town last time.

  - Oh.... And you want her back? Didn't you stay in touch?

  Silence. He didn't know how to answer that.

  - No we didn't... And I don't know. I just thought... I should give it a shot to something you know. For something I thought I felt. It's been a bit hard to live as I've been living. So, yeah... I gave it a shot and got a punch in the stomach – Eric was spilling things he'd never say, especially to a stranger. But hey, sometimes that's exactly what someone needs: a stranger who listen. - I know it seems stupid that we didn't keep in touch now... But truth is, I didn't want to. I always avoid that.

  - ...Well, she has the right to stay with him, right?

  - ...I guess – He wasn't expecting she would throw that at his face – But the guy...

  - Let me guess, doesn't deserve her?

  Eric just gave her a weak smile, realizing that he'd sounded a bit stupid.

  - So, anyways... knowing that, have you consider the possibilities already?

  - No, not actually

  - Need help?

  - Why? Do you wanna help me with this?

  - It might be interesting, right? Also, it might help you to prepare yourself.

  They both smiled at each other.

  - Well, I guess if she wants to get back with you, it wouldn't be possible for her to move around with you, right? I mean States... travelling... right?

  - No, I don't think so...

  - Are you willing to just stay in Paris this time?

  - I....I don't know...m...maybe

  - Could you stay in Paris?

  Eric took a deep breath

  - ...Probably not for too long, nor that frequently.