Pardon My French by Cathy Hapka

Author:Cathy Hapka [Hapka, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Wow.” Nicole shaded her eyes against the strong rays of the setting sun. “What is that thing?”

Luc grinned, seeming pleased by her reaction. “What do you think? Rather cool, isn’t it? Do you like?”

“I—I’m not sure.” Nicole stared at the odd sight in front of her. She and Luc were standing at one end of a large public fountain filled with more than a dozen colorful modern sculptures, most of them moving or spitting water or both.

She stared from one sculpture to another. Each seemed more outlandish than the last—the cartoonish reclining mermaid; a plump little heart shooting water straight up in a graceful arc; an anxious-looking elephant head; a rather creepy-looking skull-like face set high atop a jumble of dark metal; a pair of bright red lips spitting water. And near the center stood the largest sculpture of all—a giant, multicolored bird? Nicole wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to be. It reminded her a little of the bright crayon drawings the Smith kids liked to make and stick on the refrigerator.

Luc seemed amused. “A lot of people have the same reaction.” He waved a hand at the dozens of others standing or sitting nearby, most of whom were also staring at the artwork. “It’s known as the Stravinsky Fountain, after the famous composer. The pieces are supposed to represent some of his works.”

“Really? That’s kind of cool. But which work is that supposed to be?” Nicole pointed to the spitting lips.

“Ah, you caught me.” Luc laughed. “I do not know much about Stravinsky or his music.” He shrugged and smiled. “I just like the fountain.”

“What?” Nicole put a hand to her heart, pretending to be shocked. “You mean you don’t know absolutely everything there is to know about Paris?” She pronounced the city’s name with an exaggerated French accent.

He jumped to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Come,” he said with a grin. “We shall take your mind off your great disappointment in me by taking some pictures in front of the fountain. You will want to show your friends back home what you have been doing with yourself while here, no?”

Nicole shrugged. “Good idea. But I didn’t bring my camera.”

“No problem.” With a flourish, Luc pulled a small disposable camera out of his jacket pocket. “As we say here in France, voilà!”

They spent the next twenty minutes getting passersby to take their picture as they struck silly poses in front of the sculptures. Nicole pretended to be pushing Luc into the fountain, struck sultry poses near the mermaid, or stood at the edge of the water and spread her arms, imitating the bird-thing in the background. If her friends back home could see her now, she suspected they would think she was crazy. But just at the moment, she didn’t care.

Finally, Luc took the camera from an amused though befuddled German tourist and checked the readout. “Just one photo left,” he told Nicole. “Go on and do something—I’ll be the photographer this time.”

“Okay, I’ve got an idea.

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