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A Different Configuration
Draft #1
Copyright 2011 Christina M. Guerrero
DEDICATION:
With grateful appreciation for the summer of 2010.
STORY BEHIND THE STORY:
While doing research on Paris for several projects, I discovered Galeries Lafayette,
one of the city’s most popular shopping malls. As I examined photos and videos of the mall,
this idea grew from just one scene -- a few complaints about a silly dream -- into a short story.
ABOUT THE FIRST DRAFT
This is a first draft.
It has continuity errors; question marks in place of facts;
names and physical appearances that will change in subsequent drafts;
typos; and assorted other things that make it not so attractive.
One of the biggest changes from the first draft to the second
is the conversation between Ralph (Parker in subsequent drafts)
and Garance at the Channel Tunnel station.
I knew Aldwin was helping a few of their roommates, but not how much.
Eventually, I decided the roommates were more supportive
of each other than reflected in this draft.
* * * * *
I stood in the center of Galeries Lafayette in Paris, listening to the murmur of mostly French speakers, watching the shoppers on the five levels above me, smelling the scent of sophisticated perfume samples, so lost in the experience that I did not see Aldwin until he said my name twice.
“Garance? Garance?” His English accent stood out from the French sounds.
I found him to my right, a few feet away. “Oh, sorry.”
He was smiling, but frowned slightly as I faced him. “Are you alright?”
For a moment I wanted to rush into his arms. I was so glad to be out of the dream from much earlier in the morning, so glad to see him standing nearby, towering over me at six-one, with his light brown hair and dark blue eyes and slim yet big-boned build. His friendly face was a big change from the distant, angry version of him in my dream.
He reached out and rubbed my back. “Alright, then?”
“Um. Yeah. It’s nothing, really. I was just ... just thinking about this terrible dream I had last night.”
“A nightmare.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was a nightmare. I wasn’t here. I had never moved here. And when I got here ....”
He was still rubbing my back and listening with a pleasant look on his face.
“Sorry,” I said. “It was silly. I’m rambling.”
“Tell me if you want. I think we’ll be here a while. We’re early.”
I looked around. We were supposed to meet seven more of our friends after Christmas shopping at the Galeries. We had parted earlier in the morning, and agreed to meet in the main area??? three hours later. I had arrived forty minutes early and had been standing here, still convincing myself I was no longer in the dream, which had been disturbing and vivid.
I looked up again. A huge Christmas tree filled the center of the atrium???, and other decorations gave the area a pink glow.
“Okay,” I said. “I wasn’t here. I lived somewhere else. And I didn’t know all eight of you. We were scattered around in the universe in a different configuration.”
Aldwin moved slightly closer; the outsides of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His hand was still on my back, which was comforting. “A different configuration? Were some of us aliens or something? Did we have boxes for heads and shells for feet, or something unusual like that?”
I laughed. “Yeah. There was an alien. Not sure who that was. And one of us was a plant.”
He laughed. “Do you remember who?”
I thought for a moment. “No. Although I did have a list of all our names, and was checking them off.”
I remembered the worst part of the dream and stopped smiling, and felt quite grim.
Aldwin frowned again and asked, “Thinking about the nightmare part?”
“Yeah. It was awful. I made the wrong choices and didn’t move here until very late in life. Not sure where I lived before that. But no matter where I went, this stupid fat woman kept sending me notes to stay in touch with her husband.”
Aldwin’s lips trembled as he studied me; amusement filled his eyes.
“You can laugh,” I said. “She was annoying. Just when I’d think I’d prevented her from contacting me, I’d get another note. Somehow she was able to hear me if I shouted, so I told her I had never met her husband. But she insisted we had dated, and demanded an explanation about why I had broken up with him.”
“She was stalking you.”
“Definitely. I reported her to all her Internet service providers. Even though she wasn’t using the Internet.”
Aldwin laughed again -- a happy, friendly sound -- which made me laugh. “And?”
“I showed up at her garden club and gave a long fictional speech, explaining why I had dated and broken up with her husband, that is before he was married. It was this long terrible story. Quite sad. That was mostly the nightmare part. I was describing things that were the history of the me in the dream, not the me that lives here, in France. It was horrible.” If he asked for details, I’d refuse. I was too embarrassed to repeat them.
Aldwin rubbed my back again. “You know, Ralph said he heard someone crying out last night, but thought it might have been Jill and Carl. They can be a bit ....” He blushed and looked away.
“Passionate,” I said, glad for a reason to smile. We all lived in two large neighboring flats in the Champ S’Elyseess neighborhood. Jill and Carl were the only couple. A few of us were American expatriates; a few English who preferred to live in Paris; and a few French. We were a big group of friends that had formed during the past ten years, and enjoyed hanging out together as much as possible.
“Might have been you,” Aldwin said.
“Yeah. Sometimes I mumble or cry out when I’m sleeping.”
We jumped and turned at the sound of a loud, “OI!”
Ralph, one of our roommates, ran toward us, wearing a brown leather jacket, a T-shirt with a huge daffodil on it, jeans and hiking boots. His long spiky dark blond hair flapped around his head. “Aldwin ... Garance. How much time do I have?”
Aldwin checked his watch; I tried not to stare. He looked like finely-crafted furniture come to life. He said, “More than fifteen minutes. Take your time.”
“Be right back.” Ralph walked backwards for a few steps, exposing the giant daffodil on his shirt, then turned and ran away.
“Perhaps he was the plant?” Aldwin said.
“Maybe.”
“So ... at the risk of putting that unhappy look back on your face ... what happened after the garden club lecture?”
“Everyone vanished. There were no more notes. I was finally able to get some work done. Then, when I was able to, I moved here, and that was when I had the list.”
Another voice interrupted us: Laurel, one of our French roommates. She was medium-sized and plump, with long auburn hair, and had an airy, polite voice. Aldwin had been flirting with her for the past few years, but she only wanted to be friends. His face softened as she walked toward us and said, “Hello, Aldwin. Hello, Garance. Goodbye, Aldwin. Goodbye, Garance. I just remembered I forgot something. I will be back.” As she walked away, I saw a spaceship image on the back of her white leather jacket.
Aldwin watched her with a little smile, and seemed to be paying particular attention to the movement of her Rubenesque bottom as it shifted slowly inside her perfectly-pressed jeans.
I reminded myself that he was quite fond of large women, tried to stop feeling jealous, pulled myself together, and said, “I don’t think she was the alien. And ... I’m sorry about the ‘fat’ comment earlier.”
He focused on me again, once again rubbing my back. “Why? It was funny. So ... was that the end?”
“No. There was this vague part when I was checking off squares. Seven of them. And you were last.”
“Was I a lamppost? Or perhaps a building?”
“No.” I laughed again. “I saw you across a busy street here in Paris. You looked about the same age, maybe mid-thirties, and you were wearing a waiter’s uniform. Oh, and you were pale green.”
Aldwin looked to his left, rather suspiciously. I tried to remember what exactly that meant -- was he uncomfortable? lying? remembering something? hiding something? -- but could not think fast enough.
He said, “I was a pea-green French waiter?”
“I don’t think French. You spoke with an English accent. In the dream we had never met, so I just watched you for a few minutes. Then you turned and saw me, so I waved. You didn’t wave back. You shouted, ‘You’re just using me to get to my friend.’ And I was quite sad, because I had approached your friend only for information, and then noticed you, and wanted to say hi and maybe chat briefly. Nothing more.”
Aldwin said, “Aw. I’m sorry I was rude in your dream.”
“Don’t be silly. It was just a dream.”
“Was that the end?”
“No. There was just a little bit more. Your friend decided to hang out with me. I had this massive temper tantrum like a little kid and said I wanted you to hang out with me instead. So the friend brought this man to me and said it was you. But it wasn’t. This little group of people ... some kind of advisory group to your friend ... insisted it was you, but you and this other man ... you were two different people. I was quite sad. Even though the man was extremely polite and nice to me. He was very nice.”
That brought tears to my eyes. I did not try to hide them, just looked away.
I was upset because I enjoyed Aldwin’s friendship. Although I had my little crush, I had never said or done anything suggestive. He was always kind, but did not interact with me the way he did with Laurel. He was important to me because after almost a lifetime of not quite understanding romance, it finally made sense when I met him several years ago. I still wasn’t ready for a relationship, but hoped someday I’d find someone who had almost all of his qualities.
Aldwin hugged me gently, which was too kind of him. He said, “Are you sure just a dream is bothering you? You seem quite upset.”
I politely pulled away, not wanting to overstay my welcome in his arms. “Yeah. Just the dream. The harassment was annoying. The garden club lecture was disturbing. You not talking to me ... that sucked.”
Deciding to be playful, I gently pushed on his left arm, then wished I hadn’t. He had muscles that felt like large cables. His nose crinkled as he smiled. Then he furtively felt the left side of his dark brown jacket ... once, twice, and looked away.
I looked too, and saw Laurel walking toward us with Ralph.
“Still fancy her?” I asked, hoping to draw attention away from the hug.
“I’ll always fancy her. One of the great crushes of my life.”
I patted his arm and started walking away. “You like ‘em large, eh?”
He grinned. “Where are you going?”
“To smell the perfumes.”
We all sampled perfumes until everyone else joined us, then went outside and took the metro home.
A few days later, I woke up on Christmas Day to the sound of Laurel’s voice calling to me in French: “Garance! When are you waking up? We want to exchange presents.”
“Okay. Coming.”
I went into the living room, still wearing my pajamas. Everyone sat around the tree, enjoying hot chocolate or coffee and croissants. Happy sounds of “Happy Christmas” and “Bonne Natale????” filled the air. Aldwin tipped an imaginary hat to me, smiled and winked as he chatted with Ralph. They both had wild hair that stood up all over their heads.
Laurel passed out presents; soon we were ripping open packages and either laughing or saying various forms of “thank you.”
As I admired a first edition of Moby Dick from Carl, someone large and covered in plaid pajamas plopped next to me, kissed my left cheek and said “Happy Christmas.” I smelled Aldwin’s scent -- something pleasant and sophisticated that made me think of the decor of a rich man’s study -- and saw a pale green thick envelope appear in front of my eyes.
“Thanks,” I said.
He opened up the large Leatherman tool/keychain I had bought him. “Thank you for the industrial-sized emergency tools. I think I could build a house with this keychain.” He had been hinting for months that he wanted one.
“Go ahead,” he said, rubbing my back. Across from us, Laurel looked up, then flicked her eyes away. He hadn’t noticed; he was looking at the envelope. I thought about telling him later, but knowing him, he’d be nice and say something like, “She was probably looking out of curiosity.”
I opened the envelope and pulled out a card, which was an even lighter green, with a harassed-looking man waving from a pile of Christmas lights that almost covered him.
Then I remembered Aldwin looking suspicious when we discussed my dream, just as I opened the card and read his handwriting: “At Galeries Lafayette, I thought you had followed me and saw me pick this card! What an interesting dream. Quite prescient. Wasn’t sure what to get for you; you’re too satisfied with your life; so just paid attention all year. Always here for you, as you have been for me. Aldwin.”
Another envelope, this one slightly smaller, had something thick inside it. I opened it and found a gift card for a bookstore -- “for those long nights when you can’t sleep,” Aldwin said to my left -- another card for a vegetarian food store -- “because I know how hard it is for you and your allergies” he said -- and a gift card for Galeries Lafayette with a generous balance.
“No,” I said. “This is too much. This is something you give to a girlfriend.” I almost looked at Laurel, but did not.
Aldwin raised his eyebrows. “If I had a girlfriend I wouldn’t give her a gift card. And don’t play at disliking the gift. I’ve seen the way you walk around the Galeries.” He opened his eyes wide and looked adoringly around the room and up at the ceiling.
I laughed and put everything back into the envelope. “Thank you.” I wondered how I had “been there for him” as he mentioned in the card, but did not ask. Conversations were picking up, and Laurel slowly moved around our circle of friends until she was next to Aldwin, who was kind to her, but oddly less attentive than usual.
Later, after an early Christmas dinner, I looked outside. It was getting dark already, and a light dusting of snow covered everything. As I closed the curtains, I saw Aldwin moving toward me, dressed up in a thick black coat, dark gray scarf, jeans and walking boots.
“Going out?” I asked.
He smiled, looked away bashfully. “Yes. I have a date.” Ah, so that was why he looked unconcerned near Laurel.
“A Christmas date? Well, have fun.”
“Thanks. And what are you doing?”
“Just help with cleaning, then maybe take a walk, read. Perhaps an early bedtime.”
“A nice relaxing day.”
“Definitely.”
I was about to excuse myself when he said, “Did you like all your gifts?”
“Yeah. And I wanted to ask you ... what did you mean I’ve ‘been here’ for you? Outside the usual roommate type things one does. If you’ve got time.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m actually running a bit early.” He checked his watch. “But you’ve been there. Remember when I got sick?”
“With the common head cold?” I almost said that men could act like little boys when they got sick, but he looked so grateful, and it was Christmas ....
“It was more than a head cold. And remember when Ralph got arrested and you went with me to bail him out?”
“So ....” I shrugged. “We’re roommates.”
“He’s actually become one of my best friends. So that was appreciated.”
“Oh ... well.”
“And I won’t forget your help with Morgan.”
I frowned. “Morgan?”
Aldwin looked surprised. “Yes. Morgan. You remember him.”
I laughed. “No.”
“How could you forget him? You picked him up from Charles de Gaulle airport and dropped him off at the Louvre.”
I frowned again, and then remembered: a long drive through a light rain; this man Morgan, about the same height and shape as Aldwin, but with dark brown hair, strange dark gray eyes, and pale skin.
“I forgot about that,” I said. “He had the coolest accent. He’s Welsh?”
“English. Spent part of his childhood in Wales.”
“He was nice,” I said. “And he was that other green guy in my dream!”
Aldwin smiled slowly. “Really. We’ve been told we resemble each other, but he’s much heavier.”
“Yeah, you need to gain some weight.”
Aldwin looked away, smiling, then said, rather tentatively, “He asks about you. I tell him you’re doing well. I could ... um ... invite him here ... perhaps you’d like to chat with him again.”
“Um. Would you be nearby? Protecting me?”
“Definitely. We’ll have one of our weekend get-togethers and I’ll be your younger brother slash chaperone. And I have a back-up, too, just in case my attention is temporarily diverted.”
“Cool. Who’s your backup?”
Aldwin checked his watch with a little smile. “I’d better go. If I don’t see you later, sweet dreams.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“You can probably guess who.” Even as he said that, I saw Ralph in the livingroom, looking toward us.
Aldwin was a brief blur of black against me ... that dark comforting scent ... warmth against both of my cheeks ... then he was outside walking on the sidewalk.
I returned to the dining room, and helped clean up, filled with good cheer from the holiday, and from the chats with Aldwin. Soon, the room was clean again, and we parted for other areas of the flat.
When someone turned off the lights, our cell phones beeped almost simultaneously.
I checked mine first: a text message from Aldwin: “Family emergency. Need help.”
Ralph read his, pressed a few buttons, waited, then said, “Oi.”
Everyone else stood around, frowning at their phones.
Ralph turned to me. “Garance is the only one with a car. I could borrow it or--”
“I’ll drive,” I said. “Where is he?”
“In the area, several blocks away.”
Jill said, but rather unconvincingly, “Can we help?” She looked more aroused than concerned as Carl squeezed her butt.
Ralph hung up and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. We’ll keep you posted. Garance, I’ll meet you at the car. He needs his overnight bag and passport.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked Ralph in the car.
“I dunno. He wouldn’t say.”
We were lucky with parking: found a space a few feet from the cafe where, through a large glass window, we could see Aldwin sitting at a table, one hand against his face, as a thin blond woman sat across from him, her arms and legs folded.
“I bet she thinks he’s lying,” I said.
“I bet she does.”
We went inside and I rubbed Aldwin’s back. “Come on. Where do you need to go?”
He looked up; his face was stiff with wide eyes. “The Chunnel. Morgan is meeting me there.”
The woman said, “And who are zeez people? Did you hire them from zis Central Casting from zee United States? How much you pay them to asseest you with zis charade? Ooo!” She stood up, walked outside, slipped on the sidewalk and fell.
Ralph said, “Let’s go. You need help standing?”
“No, I can do that at least.” Aldwin produced a ghost of a smile.
We went to my car and drove away. Something bonked off the back of it, and Ralph rolled down his window and shouted several obscenities at the angry French woman.
“Let it go,” I said. “What’d she throw? An acorn?”
“I dunno, but she’s mental.”
To Aldwin, I said, “What’s wrong?”
He sighed deeply. “A family member. Diagnosed with a terminal illness. Can’t really say anything yet. That branch of the family is quite private. I may be able to share when I return.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ralph leaned forward from the back seat and appeared between us. “Yeah, sorry, mate. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
We walked with Aldwin inside the Chunnel station, and then, even though I had met Morgan only once, I saw him walking toward us. He walked quickly for several meters, and greeted Aldwin with a big bear hug. They exchanged an incomprehensible conversation, then Morgan walked to me. He was taller than I remembered, and slimmer, and looked like a darker version of Aldwin.
Morgan gently hugged me, kissed both of my cheeks and said with a lilting, musical tenor, “Proverbs ??:??”
“What’s that?”
“Look it up.” He turned to Ralph, shook his hand and clapped him on the back. “Proverbs ??:??”
“Eh?”
Ralph said, pointing at me, “She’ll look it up.”
Behind him, Aldwin wiped his eyes, smiled briefly, then rushed to me and embraced me. “I owe you.”
“Don’t be silly. Remember we’re not keeping track?”
“Right.” He kissed my right cheek and pulled away. Thinking he was in a hurry, and about to hug Ralph, I prepared to let go, but he kissed me again ... right on my mouth ... I froze, feeling electrified ... was that intentional?
Aldwin moved quickly; perhaps he had aimed wrong; he stepped over to Ralph, hugged him, and said to us, “Thank you.”
Morgan nudged him and again said something completely incomprehensible. Probably Gaelic. Aldwin nodded, glanced at me, turned red, waved, and they walked away, toward the train.
I watched him, wondering, as Ralph moved to my right side and said, “Did you see their faces?”
“Who?”
“Laurel. Jill and Carl. The others. Looked like they were being inconvenienced. Laurel had that stack of fashion magazines in her hand, and actually looked like she was going to cry. Jill and Carl couldn’t take their eyes off each other, already making love without actually doin’ so. And notice how no one else even offered to do a damn thing.”
“That’s not fair. We’ve helped each other out. On many occasions. They were probably too surprised to react right away.”
“Maybe. But they could’ve shown a bit more initiative than that, considerin’ he pays for the rent for half of ‘em.”
“Really?”
Ralph slowly looked at me. “You did not know?”
“No.”
“Me and me big mouth. That’s what got me arrested.”
“I won’t repeat it.”
“And he’s paid for--” He shut his mouth.
I smiled. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I will. He paid for one of the ladies -- and I use the term loosely -- to have an abortion. She was in a right state. At least she had the decency to pay him back.”
“Gosh. I didn’t know.”
“Ready to go home?”
“Yeah.”
We drove back, and walked into a dark flat.
I washed up, put on my pajamas, got into bed ... and dreamed.
I dreamed about Aldwin again, across the street, not waving at me. I turned around and walked away. I decided I would not put up with that, and to find someone else to talk to. I was polite; I was succinct; I was kind. That wasn’t good enough? Time to move on.
However, as I marched away, with my checklist full, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around. The green French waiter Aldwin stood there, his head slightly bowed. In a delightful, friendly voice he said, “I owe you an apology. I was mistaken about your intentions. People always want to meet my friend, thinkin’ he’s the answer to all their needs or prayers or wants or somethin’. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“We could ... we could chat for just a bit. Then I have to go back to work.” He looked across the street.
“Yeah, for just a bit. I have to get back, too. A friend of mine needs help.”
“Really. Right, you should take care of your friends.”
Somehow, this was satisfactory, and we hugged and parted and then I woke up, in my dark room. It was still early morning.
I sat up, listening.
The flat was quiet around me, so quiet I could hear people snoring.
There was no garden club and no terrible story to tell. There was no list. It was not that different configuration. It was this configuration, with Aldwin now in London, and Morgan at his side; with five of us in this flat, and four in the other.
It was the taste of Aldwin still on my mouth, even though I had brushed my teeth and washed my face.
I got comfortable again, and fell asleep, and this time dreamed only of the Galeries Lafayette.
TO BE CONTINUED
DRAFT #2 - DRAFT #3
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