An Elderly Gentalman

Yevette remembers her trials

 

        Yevette'd came out of her trance like event as was usual feeling, what. Complete? She heard the birds outside singing. Felt the flowers growing and could sense the strange lingering fragrance of the weather even. Did not even second-guess why these fairly unrecognized perceptions, had grown since her return from Belize. Had never even occurred to her to question it, it just was and the heightened feeling for nature. Only enjoyed, accepted…

        The linear aspects of the ordinary world with its demands, were beginning to take president and the fragments of her ‘existent history’ became clearer. The path she needed to straighten the way and move on into the day’s normal activities and what was required of her. To remind her of the world she’d lived in… before Belize! If not, the something she knew would consume her and what of this odd quirk of calling on the trance. Which was something of an odd Spirit Dance into an in-between of the ‘Somewheres’? It would succeed in its chewing away, at the fringes of her unraveling consciousness. Till there was nothing left of the Yevette. That was.

         The very idea terrified her. As what of her would be left and, just what would take the place of that void? These ideas of which, were beginning to fade from her more settled mind. Yevette kept working the exercise. Its intent, fading these constant tremors of terror. Melting them, into the background of the obscure! So, the exercise was working. Regular function becoming possible.

         She’d had a shower, laid out on the bed what she would wear for the day and was sitting at her desk, thinking and writing down the odd note of things that occur to her. Yevette looked about the room, at her small world. There were such a minuscule amount of collected things, in this place which made up the some total of her reality. She felt her world travel dreams, suddenly seem somewhat thread bear. Unstable and realized, that this small suite for now, was home… her anchor of sorts. Because of her knowing, Geralde Ballanger. The man who’d gotten her this job and being highly placed, in the World Management of this Hotel Chain. Yevette had been granted, what was probably the largest suite which would never be available to a mere waitress and had of course... created jealousy problems with other staff, all on their own. That at times, were quite unpleasant.

            Like Yevette didn’t have enough of her own problems, to live with!

Yet, these kinds of things in the over all she could deal with and did. With direct integrity. She knew there were rumors of her sleeping with this sweet Old French Gentleman. Among some, even stupider and cruel. None of it, could be further from the truth.

The truth being, that it was luck to have met Geralde on the Hotel grounds, on the very day she’d come there to the Hotel Fairview. To make her application for work and in dire need of a job. On hearing his accent, had approached what was a seeming safe kindly older man and was more than probably, a guest at the Hotel. Yevette began to speak to him in the French Parisian dialect, she’d learned at her mother’s knee. Till the day she died of cancer, when Yevette was thirteen. Her Mother, a quite exotic individual in her own right, had been from Paris.

And so. Yevette… was fluent in Parisian French, her luck!

           Many of these said stories were eventually shared with Geralde, as he’d turned out to be quite an amateur Historian. Not that sunny morning of their meeting on a bench enjoying the gardens and oh so wonderful conversations. He had been over whelmed, to have someone to speak the proper French with and the stories, were of a more current nature. In the joining of eventuals, the subject had come up; being what was exactly the reason, Yevette was visiting the Hotel on that beautiful sunny day. Well, Yevette held nothing back from this kindly old man intent, on hearing her. Telling this wonderful stranger, that she’d been deported from Belize twenty days prior. That she hitchhiked from Calgary with her backpack and slept the night, in bushes nearby. She was right out of money and thoroughly ashamed, of her predicament. So she was to apply here and then, wait on baited breath while it was being processed. The lady at the employment center, had assured Yevette that the Hotel... was in dire need of seasonal employees. But waiting it out sleeping in bushes was a factor, not really being looked forward to. At that, took a breather to look toward the older type Parisian Gentleman holding her hand. Perched, with rapt attentions on the edge of their bench. His eyes hugely compassionate, and obviously. Worried for her.

Yevette felt bad, that she had intruded on this poor beautiful mans sunny morning outing. Dropping her troubles on to him, so thoughtlessly and told him so. Telling a man, that was in fact one of the principle owners of the very Hotel. Where she was in such dire need, of receiving employment. This elegant old gentleman, stood still holding her hand and gently pull Yevette up along with him, to say gallantly. “Well, that my little sparrow. Is a thing. That I just may be able to help you with”! The rest of the day, was an amazing whirlwind spent with Sr. Geralde Ballanger insisting, they spend the whole lovely day, speaking his beloved Parisian French. While he worked his magic and thoroughly rearranged... Yevette’s fortunes.

          The first of stops, was right to the front desk and introduce her... to Renée Ballanger. Renée, being his pet name for his nephew. Who blushed horribly and Sir Geralde noticed, not at all. In a flurry to have said notified phone calls, placed and all lines of customers put on hold. Till Renée, did his demanding uncles bidding. While the two of them, jabbered away in his Parisian French until all the appointments were made and meetings arranged. All the while, Renée wondering just whom might this Royalty be? Well obviously from France. Paris, judging by her accent. Here sent by home office, and… not a doubt of it! The rumor mill started up full tilt and all rotating sails a flapping, with the innuendo. The woman... from Paris? All thanks, to Renée.

           That was, until this oh so important visitor from Paris started waitressing, in the lowliest of the low... the main floors family restaurant? Not that Geralde didn’t try to give her his best shot, at getting Yevette to take an apprentice management job. He'd sulked. “A woman of your caliber, must needs have a career. Is this not so, my little Sparrow”? ‘No’! Little Sparrow said simply as they waited for the Personnel Manager, at a panic run. Because Sr. Geralde Ballanger on the way to his office? In three minutes flat, had abandon his lunch break and appeared puffing. Groveling pathetically his excuses for being away, from his oh so important post. “Well”, said Geralde, “if this is what in deed you want Mon Cheri! Bon, who am I to dissuade you, from such menial endeavors”?

          ‘Ah, it was so cute. The old guy, trying to guilt trip me, into a better life’. Yevette thought, and plainly explained. “Its what I do, best. But thank you Sir, all the same”! That was that, and so Yevette left another office behind and to start at the family restaurant in two days time. She had wanted to start immediately, but Geralde, would hear none of it. If it’d been up to him, it would have been a week of needed rest. From the poor girls past trials so recently suffered.

            Yevette only thinking, that she had suffered much worse than this.

Most of the paper work in the office, on leaving Geralde had waved away. Needing only to know, that a position was made available for his pretty Yevette. His needy small Sparrow! Now it was understood, that she was indeed some type of minor royalty. The only person in the Hotel’s memory, that was personally employed... by: Marquis Geralde S. de Ballanger of Royal Paris, descent! Yevette’s, luck... given an undisclosed monthly salary, certainly never been arrived at by a waitress in the long history of that Hotel. Upon threat of death, Geralde had laughed. But the look upon his face at the time, was very serious and that no one... repeat anyone, to know of this arrangement. Which again, did not help in the rumor mill.

          At best though, only speculation surfaced and no one ever did find out about Yevette’s special arrangements. With a certain Parisian Gentleman, who in the eventuals was to become like a Grandfather figure. Always interested in his lovely little Sparrows world and of course. His historical research... French genealogy, his forte. Yevette Rose-Marie Cartier Richade, was of particular interest, oh yes. This name had struck him from some dusty tomb, found again! Yevette filed that away, to bring back what she was thinking and not to be side tracked.

           So, another office went by. Housing had set her apart, with the allocation of her present suite. No sharing a dingy staff room... for Yevette. “Later”, Geralde had said. “Later, go and smuggle in your possessions, from wenst thou hast hidden them... fair maid”, said in English and huge laughter. From the pair of them conspirators. For Yevette it was rather like Alice in Wonderland, or Dorothy. In the Wizard of Oz. Waiting, to click her heels three times, and be sent back to Kansas. Most all the particulars, were now out of the way and it was getting to be around dinner- time and made obvious. By Yevette’s stomach, rumbling, down walls! Yevette embarrassed and Geralde to immediately respond saying, “oh you poor dear, you must be famished. Just what was I thinking, running you hither tither, and you… so starved”!

           Yevette only blushed, as this being the case and hadn’t eaten since the day before.

           “Well”, he said, “why don’t we head up to my suite”, he held up a hand to stop any said comment, to be put off. He laughed, “and don’t think it’s just a dirty old man, who’d try and to entice a beautiful young girl to his lair”! Geralde made a sweeping gesture, near to the floor. “My intentions, I can assure you. Are to eat a hardy meal and thoroughly enjoy, your sweet company Yevette. Can you allow that, to grant an old man some small wish”! What could she say to that and agreed to accompany him, to partake in a well needed dinner! Later, it could be said… that she’d heard a thing, with some similar ring to it. What was it that these men, could plead her into things. What was it about her, this blessing and mixed curse. Thought, in between her remembrances and current unfolding. And,  so it went, back to her thoughts of the beginnings with… Geralde Ballanger.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Angel Bird]

Very intriguing part somehow. I felt a little bit confused at the beginning, but then things became clearer and again mysterious. I'm curious to learn more details of her memory.