It was time to lower the coffin into the ground. Once it was lowered, the priest took the shovel and threw dirt on it. He then blessed the coffin one last time and turned, handing the shovel to Gastien.
Gastien stood holding the shovel, motionless. He could not seem to move. He had one arm around Tristan Michel, who had his other arm around Odette. Everyone was staring, waiting for Gastien.
Mic stepped up and whispered to Gastien, “Come, Gastien. I will walk with you.”
Gastien walked to the grave. He stuck the shovel in the dirt and poured it on the coffin. There was no saliva in his mouth, no breath in his lungs. Turning, with Mic beside him all the way, he walked back to Tristan Michel.
“Son, are you able to do this?“ Gastien asked softly. “If not, it is ok. You don’t have to.”
Tristan Michel hesitated, and then reached out for the shovel. He looked like he was going to faint.
“I will help you,” said Gastien gently. The two of them managed to go through the ritual.
Odette followed, and finally it was time to go, leaving the gravediggers to complete the task.
The priest had announced that there was a lunch at Sophie’s sister’s house for everyone. He hoped all would stop by and share their stories about Sophie.
As they walked there, Gastien knew he was not wanted. He could not win. If he did not show up that would be looked at as inconsiderate, too. He would be damned if he left without going, just to give them something to talk about. Plus, he wanted to hear stories about Sophie.
To his surprise and comfort, all of his amis went to the lunch. They did not want him to feel abandoned. Only Father Fournier elected not to stay, as he was not in good health. He held Gastien close to him, praying over him. Then he kissed him on both cheeks, and told him what a wonderful woman Sophie had been.
VI
The house was packed with people, and even more packed with food. Many people ate to their heart’s content, but Odette, Gastien and Tristan Michel found they had little appetite. Gastien did persuade his son to take some food. In a show of solidarity, Gastien took a plate and picked out some food, too. He wanted his son to eat, so he himself did his best to set an example.
Tristan Michel went and sat by Odette. Gastien made his way over to the spot next to his son, but another relative sat down there. Gastien looked at his son, silently questioning if he would be all right. Tristan Michel nodded, so Gastien found another spot.
Soon stories were being told of when Sophie was a child, when she was a teenager, and all kinds of memories were shared. Gastien was glad to hear them. He listened quietly, holding all of this new information close to his heart. Nobody talked about Sophie as a married woman. It was as if they wanted to avoid the subject.
Finally, Gastien said, “I remember like it was yesterday the first time I saw Sophie. She was so little! And, she was so nervous, being a new server!”
People looked at him uncomfortably; then they looked away. He could not understand what he had said wrong! He did not finish his story, as they obviously did not want to hear it. Tristan Michel looked embarrassed and would not make eye contact with his father.
Gastien excused himself, going into another room, where some of his amis were. He was stunned at the rebuff of him telling just a simple story. His eyes bright with tears, he tried to be friendly to the people that had come to support him.
Mic again put his arm around Gastien and said, “We would like to hear the story, Gastien. Tell it! Mon Dieu, you were so protective of her that night, without even knowing her! We all knew you had fallen head over heels, before even knowing her name!”
The others laughed and encouraged him to talk. Soon, they were all sharing stories about Sophie and Gastien: at Au Lapin Agile, the Moulin Rouge, the Moulin de la Galette, out shopping in Montmartre, and just being a couple on their days together. Gastien was surprised to find that he even laughed a couple of times. He supposed that was wrong according to Sophie’s family, too.
Mic excused himself to go to the toilet. After he had walked through the main room where Sophie’s family sat, he heard one of her brothers talking.
“Did you notice how that ami of his is always touching him and putting his arm around him? I hear he even got him ready today. I bet there is something more to their relationship than just amis. No wonder he did not want Sophie to live with him!”
Mic was livid. He went to the toilet and then returned. The family fell silent when Mic came in. He looked calmly at the brother who had made the comment earlier.
“I just want you to know that I heard your nasty innuendo a few minutes ago.” Mic said. “How disgusting you are to take someone’s friendship and hint that it is something lurid.”
The brother looked uncomfortable. “You have to admit you certainly hang all over him.”
Mic glared at him. “For your information, I have had more women in one month than all of you combined have probably had in your lifetimes. So has Gastien, as you all so happily love to gossip about. I don’t think you have to worry that Sophie married a homosexual.”
“Normal men don’t touch each other all the time.”
“Who made you the one who decides what is normal? Oui, I hold him, and we put our arms around each other. We even kiss, if we have not seen each other for awhile. Our love is very deep. The man has just lost his wife and is ready to fall apart! Instead of comfort, he gets left out in the cold by his wife’s family. You should all be ashamed!”
“From the sounds of his laughter in the other room a few minutes ago, he does not appear to be falling apart.”
“And you have not laughed in this room while you shared memories? Or does Gastien get held to a different set of rules?”
“He ruined Sophie! He should have never started up with her.”
“Well, let me tell you something! He did his best to not get involved, but she went after him! Don’t look so shocked. She was crazy for him – maybe crazier than any woman has ever been for a man! They were meant to be together, regardless of what you wanted. She would not take non for an answer. Now either comfort him or shut up about him! I will not stand for any more bad mouthing of him today. I don’t care whose house this is. I will punch the sense out of the next person who says something bad about him – male or female!”
“I still say you two are very familiar with each other.”
Mic just shook his head. “I feel sorry for you. You are so afraid of appearances that you don’t ever allow yourself to fully love. I would do anything for Gastien. If he wanted me that way right now, and it would make him happy again, I might consider it. Although I have never had the desire to be with a man, it almost kills me to see him so unhappy. Thankfully, he is about as likely to ask me for that as you would be. How sad, though, that you have never loved that completely.”
Mic could see they would never understand. “This is like talking to a bunch of boulders. You have no idea what pain and suffering that man went through his first nineteen years of life! Let me tell you, not one of you is strong enough to have lived through it. Nor do you know his generosity and sense of humor, his determination. And yet, you berate him. You can’t see past his hair, or his lack of tradition. I was hoping at least a few of you would see the man he truly is, but I overestimated you.”
He glared at Odette. “This is your fault. You encouraged this attitude about Sophie’s husband.”
He then looked at Tristan Michel. “I am sorry you lost your mother. Still, shame on you, just sitting there; letting them say awful things about your father! You are sixteen, old enough to start acting like a man. I just hope they have not turned you against your father forever. He has faults, but he has always loved you the best he knows how. I hope someday you realize that!”
Mic turned and went into the other room. Thankfully, he had shut the door when he had left to use the toilet. Gastien had not heard the confrontation.
Some of Gastien’s amis had brought hashish, so they went outside and smoked it. Gastien wa
s thankful for the high, because he physically hurt quite badly. It was a damp day, and he had been sitting by Sophie for two days, with little sleep.
People started to leave. Soon it was time for everyone to go home. Mic looked at Gastien. “I will walk back with you to Odette’s; then I will wait outside. I know you will need some time. I am there if you need me.”
“Oui. Mic, merci.”
“You would do the same for me.”
“Oui. I would. Son? Odette? Let’s go.”
VII
When they got to Odette’s, Gastien went inside with them. He needed to talk to Tristan Michel.
“Son, I need to know where you would like to live. As you know, I had already asked Sophie and you to come live with me. I know that you did not want to. Now that your mother is gone, perhaps you would like to live with me. I would be glad to have you. On the other hand, if you feel more comfort here with Odette, I completely understand. It is familiar to you. You can stay here for just a few days and then join me, or you can come home with me now. If you wish, you can elect not to live with me at all.”
Tristan Michel looked at him and then at Odette. “Father, I would like to stay here. This is my home.”
Gastien was relieved. He was in such a state of grief that he did not know how he would hold up in front of his son on a daily basis.
“That is fine, as long as Odette is fine with it.”
“Of course I am! He is like a son to me,” she said as she put her arm around Tristan Michel. “You did not raise him. Sophie and I did.”
“I am too tired for a verbal assault, Odette. I agree that you did your part in raising him.” He turned to Tristan Michel. “I will be back in two days. We can talk more then. I need some time, Tristan Michel, to just grieve. Do you understand?”
“I have Odette. You can take more time than two days.”
Gastien pretended not to be hurt. “Then perhaps I will. I just don’t know how I am going to get through this. I will come as soon as I am able to.”
“As I said, don’t hurry.”
Gastien kissed his son, who did not kiss him back.
When Gastien left, there was Mic. He was waiting, just like he had promised.
VIII
They took a cabriolet home. Gastien found he could barely keep his eyes open when he got inside his studio. He went to the toilet and stripped, climbing into bed.
Mic had coffee brewing.
“I am going to stay just a little bit to make sure you can sleep, Gaz. I don’t want you alone if you can’t sleep. In fact, I may stay here through the night. I can sleep on a chaise.”
“Merci, Mic. You are right, I don’t want to wake up and be alone. Please…will you stay until I need to go back to Odette’s? “
“I will stay as long as you need me to.”
“You can sleep in bed with me. We have done that before, and neither bit the other.”
“All right. I will come to bed later. For now, I am going to have some coffee and read. Do you want a pull of whiskey to help you sleep?”
“Oui that would be nice.”
Gastien had a good belt of whiskey before going to bed. As Mic drank his coffee, he listened to Gastien’s breathing. Soon it was deep and even. He knew his ami had found the safe haven of sleep for at least a little while. He realized that the hash and shock had something to do with that. He would need to keep Gastien medicated somehow if the grief prevented him from sleeping in the future.
Mic sighed, rubbing his eyes. There would be time to deal with that later. Right now, Mic was satisfied that Gastien was at all right, at least for the time being.
A few hours later, Mic climbed into bed, too. Gastien had not stirred for two hours, and his breathing told Mic that he was sleeping well. Mic shut his eyes. As he drifted off, he prayed that Gastien would get through this in one piece.
For a brief second when he woke up, Gastien was unaware that Sophie was dead. Then, almost immediately, he could feel the weight of something awful. Turning, he saw Mic next to him. As reality set in, the awful ache where his heart used to be grew. All he could see when he thought of the future was bleakness, a dark gray fog. It would not matter if it was five minutes or five years from now, everything would look and be the same: thick, grey fog; devoid of any happiness, hope, or color.
That awful keening that started up, could that actually be coming from him? Gastien curled up with his back to Mic and tried to stop, but found he couldn’t. He just grew louder. This searing pain, this anguish, was that to be his destiny for the rest of his days?
Surely he had been wrong about there not being a God. There must be one; he must have died and been sent to hell. He stuck the back of his hand against his mouth to quiet himself. Soon he found that he was tasting blood. He had bit through the skin on his hand.
The noise woke Mic woke up. Turning, he noticed that Gastien was bleeding.
“Gaz, let me look, where are you bleeding?” he asked.
Gastien remained curled into a tight ball. Mic saw that it was Gastien’s hand.
He got up and cleansed the wound, wrapping it in cloth. “It is not a deep wound, Gaz. You bit through a little bit. Let me put some pressure on it to get it to stop. Once it had, he coaxed Gastien out of bed to go outside and use the privy.
Once back inside, Gastien went back to bed. He simply lay staring at the ceiling. At last he spoke.
“Mic, would you do anything for me?” His voice was hollow; dead.
Mic sat down on the bed. “Well, almost, I think. Why? Do you want something? What can I get for you?”
Gastien sat up and looked at Mic solemnly.
He begged, “Mic, if you love me at all, please kill me! Find a way for it to be quick, and let me die! I can’t do this. I just can’t!”
“Oh, Gaz. You don’t mean that! I would never do that. I know it does not seem possible, but you will eventually want to live again; it will just take time. Think of your son! How fair would that be to him?”
“He doesn’t much like me. I embarrass him. He would probably be glad.”
“Non, he would not be glad. What about me? I need my best ami. What about all of the others who came and supported you? We all need you, Gastien. You will want to live again. It is just too soon.”
Gastien started to cry again. “I want her back, Mic! Mon Dieu, I don’t even want to be conscious because it hurts too badly to think! I want her back!”
He was sobbing now, nearly hysterical. Mic knew he needed to get something to calm Gastien down. He hated to use opiates, but felt there was nothing else that could be done for the time being. Yet, he was afraid to even leave and visit a doctor, to ask how much to give Gaz and for how long. Then he thought of Cassie and Vic next store.
“Gaz, I will be right back. I need to ask Cassie to get you something for sleep from a doctor.”
Mic returned as quickly as possible. Gastien was now up and pacing the floor. He could not sit still for very long. He would pace for a moment just to sink back down and sit again.
It seemed to take several lifetimes for the laudanum and directions to arrive with Cassie. Reading it carefully, Mic gave Gastien the medicine that would finally give him some temporary peace.
“Here we go, ami. I am drugging you up for a couple of days, so that you can get some sleep. You desperately need some rest.”
Gastien sat down at the table under Mic’s instruction and took the medicine. Cassie had also brought over some breakfast. Mic coaxed Gastien to eat a little bit before he got too sleepy. Pretty soon he could see Gastien nodding off.
“Let’s go, ami. I will help you to bed. You are going to sleep for awhile now. Let me help you up.”
“Mic, don’t leave me alone! I can’t stand thinking of being alone right now!”
“I won’t leave you alone. Come to bed.”
He got Gastien to lie down in the bed, but he could tell his ami was fighting the sleep.
“Why are you fighting it?”
“I don’t wa
nt to be alone! I don’t want Sophie to die! We can’t let her die!”
Mic realized that the drug was causing Gastien to get mixed up.
Mic lay down and held Gastien against him.
“Here. Come here. I am right here, you are not alone. Listen to my heart; my breathing. Can you hear it?”
Gastien seemed calmer.
“Keep listening. That sounds tells you that you are not alone.”
It only took a couple of minutes before Gastien was asleep. Disengaging himself from his ami, Mic covered him and adjusted his pillow, so that he would sleep comfortably.
Then he left to go get some supplies. It looked like he would be cooking for a couple of days.
However, Cassie saw him leaving and came out to ask how Gastien was. He explained that Gaz was asleep on the laudanum, so he thought he better get some food in the place. He would need to make meals of some sort.
Cassie snorted. “YOU? Mic, we don’t want to lose either Gastien OR you! Vic and I will bring over meals. I will bring you lunch in a few hours. It sounds like Gastien will be sleeping through that meal. Then, at half past six, one of us will bring you both dinner. That is what amis are for. No argument. We will make sure the food keeps coming.”
Mic made sure Gastien was high on laudanum for the next two days. That guaranteed his ami sleep; however, it could be addicting to anyone, let alone someone who had dabbled in opium and morphine.
After the next two days, Mic decreased the amount given by half. He gave him only one half the previous day’s amount the following day.
He had Cassie let Tristan Michel and Odette know that Gastien would not be around for several days because he was suffering a set back from the grief.
After seven days, Gastien was fully awake. Although he was still in deep grief, he could function enough to go see Tristan Michel. This he did alone, but Mic said he wanted Gastien to let him know how the visit went as soon as he got home. Mic was pretty sure that it would not go smoothly.
From Dream to Destiny Page 38