Paris: The Novel

“As I promised, they will be painted on a plaque where they may be seen. But I cannot bring myself to add your name to the list. Do you understand? You will receive your bonus of a hundred francs, but no public recognition.”
    Thomas nodded. He did not look up. He could not speak.
    “That is all,” said the builder of the tower.

    Thomas had seen Édith only once since the accident. He had met her as usual outside the lycée. She had been off work for a couple of days, she told him, and she wouldn’t be free that Sunday. He wanted to talk a little about what had happened, but she seemed preoccupied, and he left feeling uncertain about where he stood with her.
    So it was not surprising if, up on Montmartre that Sunday, his family found him rather subdued. Was everything all right at work, his father asked?
    “Not bad,” he replied. “Monsieur Eiffel himself told me I’d be getting my bonus at the end.”
    “And your name written up,” his father said proudly.
    Thomas changed the subject.
    “I’ll be looking for work again, as soon as I’m finished on the tower,” he reminded them.
    In the afternoon, he went for a walk with his brother.
    “How’s Édith?” asked Luc.
    “All right.”
    “That’s good.” It seemed to Thomas that his brother had something he’d been waiting to tell him. But they walked on in silence for a little way before Luc asked him casually: “Have you seen the posters for the Wild West show?”
    One could hardly miss them. They seemed to be sprouting on every billboard in Paris. A huge buffalo, racing across the prairie, took up most of the picture. Inset on his powerful body, however, was an oval portrait of the handsome and unmistakable features of Colonel W. F. Cody, Buffalo Bill himself, with beard, mustache and cowboy hat, and underneath him just two words in French.
    Je Viens:
I am coming.
    Everyone had heard of Buffalo Bill’s circus. It had already had a triumphant tour in England. People might not be sure exactly what the spectacle entailed, but it was known to be exotic, and exciting. It would be one of the biggest side attractions of the Universal Exposition.
    “I was given a couple of tickets,” said Luc. “Thought you might like them. You could take Édith.” He pulled a little packet out of his pocket, carefully extracted two tickets and handed them to Thomas to see. Thomas stared at them.
    “But this is for the grand opening! How in the world did you get them?”
    “A gentleman gave them to me.” Luc grinned. “I’d helped him with something.”
    “But you should go,” protested Thomas.
    “No. I want you to have them.”
    “But they’re for the grand opening,” Thomas repeated.
    “That’s right,” said Luc.

    It was Wednesday before he saw Édith, but this time she agreed to accompany him to the bar they’d gone to the first time they met. She even agreed to eat a little.
    All the same, Thomas sensed that she was uncertain about something, and he was anxious to find out exactly what it was.
    “I’ve been worried about you,” he said.
    “I’m all right.”
    “I feel terrible about what happened. I never meant to put you through that.”
    “You shouldn’t. After all, it was my fault.”
    “Your fault?” He stared at her in astonishment.
    “Yes. If I hadn’t told him to take a bow …”
    “Édith.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “I never even thought of such a thing. Pepe was going to do that anyway, I promise you. That’s just the way he was.”
    She didn’t say anything for a moment, but she was weighing his words.
    “You really think so?” she said at last.
    “Of course. I know it.” He reached over and kissed her head. “You can put that idea out of your mind. It isn’t so.”
    She stared down at the table. After a pause, she picked up her glass of red wine, took a slow sip, and put it down on the table again, still holding the stem for a little while, before finally releasing it.
    “There’s something else you should know,” she said, and looked up into his face.
    Then she told him about the miscarriage.
    When she had finished, he was left staring at her openmouthed.
    “I had no idea you were pregnant,” he said.
    “I know.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “I don’t know. I didn’t want to.”
    “I thought … after what happened at Christmas, and then you were suddenly cold …”
    “I was anxious. And upset. Perhaps I felt angry with you. I suppose … it makes no sense, but I was