PART III - Chapter 46: ROMANTIC STORIES

 

 

Chapter 46

Romantic Stories

(Ó 2010)

Late May 2017

Gerard’s Café

9:05 AM

Marianne Ristagno prided herself on being a free spirit and one who is completely in charge of her own life. Her parents both came from wealthy European families, her Italian father had met her French mother during a holiday in Monte Carlo, and she was the eldest of their three children, her being the only daughter. She grew among the wealthy, the famous, and among the old European aristocracies. And at the gentle age of ten, she began to gently rebel against this part of her way of life. She once stated to her parents that the habit of the constant crusade of trying to impress, out do, and even adhere to the unwritten rules of the upper classes was, “exhausting and boring”. That she now found all the people of the upper class to be, “Ill-educated, self-centered and shallow.”

 

She sat in the morning sunshine at her table that was next to the short stone wall that separated the outdoor dining area of Gerard’s Café from the sidewalk and the street. She is wearing a navy blue sun dress with white polka dots, a large brimmed white hat and designer sunglasses. She is a handsome woman in her early sixties, as well as her best friend of almost twenty years, Laura Hathaway, who sat opposite her at the same table.

 

Laura was wearing a solid pink sundress with white ties at the shoulders with dark designer sunglasses. In the year 1999 Laura had met Marianne while in Cyprus at an open art market. Marianne’s extroverted and outspoken personality is just what Laura had needed in her life since she left the United States in the year before. Laura was a sad and depressed woman at the time when she arrived in Europe after the ordeal of her divorce from her husband, and also leaving behind her then infamous son. It was Laura’s sad expression that Marianne first noticed, and she made it her duty to make sure that Laura Hathaway would be her friend and always laugh and be happy.

 

The one thing that she made Laura do after she met was to slightly change her appearance. Marianne took her to her orthodontist and had Laura put braces on her teeth to correct her overbite. “Believe me my dear, it is the only thing you will ever need, you have a perfect complexion and like me you look much younger than you are.” When the braces were finally removed, Laura herself could not believe the difference. She did look younger and prettier. Marianne would always take the credit for that.

 

Theirs is a wonderful friendship of two well to do single women. Laura’s wealth had recently had the chance of being increased with the death of her father back in the United States, leaving her a portion of his business, some forty auto dealerships in Illinois, Wisconsin and Indiana. She sold her portion of the business to her two siblings, and then divided all of the money from that portion to the victims that were still known to her from her notorious son Jared.

 

Both were very handsome women who seemed to never age, physically, mentally and even in their personalities. This combination would bring out a type of radiances from them both, and both women would have many suitors of all ages. However both women had sworn off marriage, they even made a pact with each other to never get married. Marianne was never married to begin with, and Laura would tell her the sad details of her own marriage with her husband Mitchell back in the United States.

 

Their waiter brought them the coffee that they ordered, he then took their breakfast order and when finished left the ladies to return to the kitchen. “My, it’s very busy here for someplace so far from the city.” Laura said, she then asked her friend, “Okay Marianne? What gives? Why did you make me wake up so early from my nice comfy hotel in Paris to come all the way out here? If I know you, it something you just have to show me.”

 

Marianne smiled and leaned over to her best friend and said, “Alright then Laura, you know me, so then you know how much I love romantic stories.”

 

“Love them? Lady you’ve always been a sucker for those schmaltzy movies and books. I wish the real thing would hit us once in a while.”

 

“Well that is it correct my dear friend, so then, how would you like it then for you to see a real one? A real romantic story, right here in the flesh.”

 

“What do you mean Marianne?”

 

Marianne seemed exited, as if she was about to be the first to tell Laura some juicy gossip, “While I was in Switzerland three weeks ago to visit my brother, his wife told me about this place and the man who lives here.”

 

“What man is that?”

 

“The man who lives here in this village, he’s known as ‘The Legionnaire’, he has lived here now for sixteen years, and I believe he had lived here before. Most everyone you see here now? There are here to see this man as he does his daily schedule.”

 

“What makes this man so famous that everyone here is just here to see him?” Laura asked.

 

“Ah, that is it my dear Laura, it is his story. It is so sad, but it is oh so very so romantic.” Marianne then picked up the napkin on the table, lifted her sunglasses and dabbed away the tears.

 

“Are you crying Marianne?”

 

“Yes, yes I am, and you will too when I tell you his story.” Marianne answered.

 

“Well please do, I’ve seen you with all your other crazy stories, but I’ve never seen you really get this emotional.”

 

Marianne dabbed her eyes one more time along with a gentle dab to her nose, she replaced her sunglasses, “He is called ‘Legionnaire’ because he served France in the Foreign Legion. When he finished with his duty in the Legion he became an officer with the French National Police. He was part of the Organized Crime and Narcotics Group. He did very dangerous work and had to deal with some of the most dangerous men in Europe. He was a very integral part of this group; he was responsible for stopping these very dangerous men. His identity was a state secret because of the danger. However, these criminals managed to plant their own men in the police department. They became police officers with the National Police just to find him. There were a couple attempts on his life; however he foiled those attempts himself.” Marianne then stopped to again wipe her tears. She was silent for a few seconds.

 

“Go on Marianne, then what happened?” Laura asked.

 

“He was like what you would call a ‘Superman’, but even Superman had a weakness, and these men in the underworld found out what his was.”

 

“And that was?”

 

“That was his wife, a woman he loved more than anything in the world. She was beautiful and I understand that she was a hairdresser in a salon in the boroughs where the homosexuals and lesbians live. When they married they both lived there in the borough because most of her friends are there. She then one day fell absolutely in love with a small little chalet here in this village and he purchased it for her. They lived here for a few years I understand.” Marianne stopped and cleared her throat, “However, someone in one of those crime families decided that if they would kill him finally, but in a different way. One day, two men waited for his wife outside of the salon where she worked. She left the salon one afternoon to get some tea. The two men followed her, accosted her and took her into the alleyway next to the salon, and stabbed her in her heart.” Marianne then began to cry, “It is said that her last words were of her calling his name.”

 

“Oh my Lord.” Laura said, and she to began to feel tightness in her throat as tears came to her eyes. “Then what happened?”

 

“He, well, he was completely destroyed.” Marianne continued, “I understand that he had to be sedated for some time. He could no longer perform his duties. That man, that poor brave man who faced enemies while in the Foreign Legion and some of the vilest men in France and Europe. Evil, notorious and disreputable men that he would fearlessly go after. That is what I heard about him the most, that he was completely and totally fearless.”

 

“What happened then?”

 

“That is where it gets mysterious and clouded,” Marianne answered, “he just, well, disappeared. He left the village here in the middle of the night, had an attorney sell the little house. He just vanished from here for seven years. Then one day, sixteen years ago, he just reappeared here, out of thin air.”

 

“Oh my Lord, that is strange. Does anyone know where he went to?”

 

“Nobody seems to get that part straight.” Marianne answered, “Some say America or South America in French Guiana where he once lived. Some say Africa, some say he just wandered aimlessly, but he must have made some money somewhere because when he returned he bought back the little chalet back from the family that lived there. Gave them an excellent offer, he lives there now and the home is like a shrine to her.”

 

“Oh my, this is sad.”

 

“Oh yes, but that is not all you see since he’s been back, he never leaves here. He does not go on holiday or anything. I hear that the only time he left was during those Muslim riots in 2005. He returned to the borough where the salon is where his wife once worked. He stood out in front of the salon with a large stick, an ax handle I believe, protecting the salon and her friends that were inside.” She paused and cleared her throat, “He spends his days keeping the house that his wife loved maintained and every morning he goes to the church just west of here and goes to the morning mass.”

 

“Every morning?”

 

“Yes, and then after he is done with the mass, he comes this way,” she paused and pointed to the road beside them, “he comes from around that corner and passes right by this very table to make his way in that direction.” Marianne pointed northward up the cobblestone street.

 

Laura asked, “What is up there?”

 

“The cemetery where his beloved is buried,” Marianne said, “he has made a shrine to her there also. There is for her a large lavender colored monument, with her image engraved on it. He goes there every morning and sits there and speaks with her. He’ll be there for about one hour, maybe one hour and a half. Sometimes he brings her a rose from the bushes that she had planted herself at the house, and if he does, it is tied with a lavender ribbon.”

 

“What’s with the lavender?”

 

“Apparently that was her favorite color, and whenever he goes there, nobody else will go into the cemetery until he leaves, unless they are pay respects to their own loved ones of course. When he does leave, some of the people here will go over and visit her grave themselves. This all started about seven years ago, when he wrote a book about his life, here I have a copy of it for you.” Marianne then reached into her oversized purse and produced a copy of the book “ON TWO FRONTS” by Logan Ian Morrow, “It was just a local story at first then it began to spread all over the continent, this book seemed to start it all. Now all the romantics come here to see him.”

 

“This is a romantic story.” Laura said with amazement.

 

“And then there are the Legionnaires themselves.”

 

“What Legionnaires?”

 

“The Legionnaires who come to pay their respects to his wife.” Marianne said, “The Legionnaires read his book also, there is a whole chapter about his wife and what happened to her. Well, the Legion is known for its traditions so they made a new one, his wife, her name was Lillian, she well, became like the ‘official love’ of the Legion. There now is a place in every Legionnaires heart for this woman Lillian. They even have her portrait in many of the living quarters and lounges on Legion bases.” She then dabbed her eyes again, “You can always tell when a Legionnaire has visited her grave, the leave a pin of the seven flamed grenade, the symbol of the Legion, and it is pinned into a small piece of lavender colored ribbon. A Legionnaire will place this on her grave.”

 

Laura then sat up straight and began to fan herself with her hands, “Oh please stop Marianne or you’re going to make me cry right here. You know I hate to cry in public.” Then she noticed that that other patrons of the café began to stir and began to silence their conversations. Some in the back stood up and those closer to Marianne and Laura craned the necks. Laura herself then looked to the same direction as everyone else, to the south direction of the cobblestone street. There she saw a man who seemed to have just turned the corner and was walking towards them. He was wearing navy blue blazer, grey slacks, blue shirt with yellow tie. In his hand was a single rose. “Look Marianne,” she said to her friend, “I guess that must be him.”

 

Marianne turned in her chair and removed her sunglasses, “Oh yes, that it him.” She seemed to whisper in her excitement, “Look Laura, do you see it? Do you see the rose in his hand?”

 

Laura too then removed her sunglasses, “Yes, I see it.”

 

“And there, do you see it?” Marianne continued, “Do you see the ribbon? The lavender ribbon?”

 

“Yes,” Laura answered somberly, “I see the ribbon.”

 

The café became very quiet as ‘The Legionnaire’ made his way towards them. He walked on the sidewalk that was running right next to the short stonewall that Laura and Marianne sat next too. Mari became more excited and turned to Laura, “Oh Laura, he’s going to walk right past us. He’s going to be so close that I will be able to touch him.”

 

“Control yourself Marianne,” Laura whispered, “You’re acting like we were kids back at the New Kids on the Block concert.”

 

The closer ‘The Legionnaire’ came towards them, the quieter the patrons in the café became. ‘The Legionnaire’ walked in a slow yet confident stride, all the time averting his eyes from the patrons of Gerard’s. Closer he came to where Marianne and Laura sat. Both women had there eyes riveted to him. Soon he was thirty feet from them, then twenty. When he was just ten feet away he looked up to Marianne and Laura. He first looked to Marianne, and then to Laura. When he saw Laura he then suddenly made eye contact with her. He seemed to slow his pace and somehow seemed momentarily engrossed with Laura. However he kept eye contact right until he was just a few feet from her. Laura eyes also seemed bonded to his. He was almost at an arms length from her when he then closed his eyes and simultaneously dipped his head to her in greeting and acknowledgement. He then looked straight ahead northward and then walked right past them. Both Marianne and Laura turned their heads and watched as he walked past.

 

When he was about twenty feet past them Marianne said in her excited whisper, “He looked right at you Laura, it was like he was saying hello to you or something.”

 

“Yes, yes I saw that.” Laura answered then turned to watch as, unbeknownst to her, ‘The Legionnaire’, the man who stopped the evil of her only son so many years ago, continued with his morning trek northward to the final resting place of his beloved. When he disappeared she turned to Marianne and said, “I felt so strange when he looked at me.”

 

“Isn’t that just like you Laura, you always have to let me know when the handsome men are only looking at you.” Marianne said sarcastically.

 

A sardonic smile came to Laura’s face and she then said, “Well, he was looking at only me.” With that both women began to laugh. “What else happens after this Marianne?”

 

“He will sit at her grave, like I said one hour to an hour and a half. He will then come back down this street to go back to his home. He will then spend his day keeping the chalet maintained and then he comes out to visit all the shop owners, maybe even go to the taverns and visit with the locals here, watch the football matches. However, he may even go back to his wife’s resting place one more time.”

 

“So this is how he spends his days?” Laura asked.

 

“Yes, I understand that he holds himself totally responsible for her death, he blames himself totally.”

 

“What an awful way to live.” Laura said sadly, “When did it happen? His wife, When did she die?”

 

“She died in 1993.” Marianne sighed.

 

“1993,” Laura exclaimed, “you mean he’s lived like this for twenty-five years?”

 

“Yes, twenty-five years he has lived with his guilt, with him blaming himself for what happened to her. I heard that he believes that if it was not for the fact that he was with the police doing what he done, she would be alive today. As I said he totally blames himself for her death.”

 

Laura shook her head slightly and said, “Then that means that he returned here to live at do the things he does, keeping up their home and her gravesite. That means that all he is doing here then is just … waiting for the day he himself dies.”

 

“Exactly my friend.”

 

“My, how he must have loved her so,” Laura said with tears welling in her eyes, “you’re right Marianne; this is a real true romantic story in the flesh.

 

“Yes it is my dear, but I must correct you, it is not ‘loved’ as you say in the past tense, you mean ‘loves’ her so. He still loves her so.” Both ladies then sat down at their table as their waiter had then brought them their breakfast. “I tell you what Laura dear, when he returns from her grave, let’s go there ourselves and visit her.”

 

“Yes Marianne, yes, I do believe that I would like to see that.”