10:45 p.m. Back from my business social outing with Reina. For the first half hour or so I regressed again to monosyllables. Such overpowering comeliness can be intimidating even to Franois. Instead of the many tourist boats that ply the Seine, we opted for a city public transit boat. Less expensive, and according to Reina, this choice spared us the obnoxious amplified commentary. We embarked on the quay opposite Notre-Dame and cruised sedately downriver. Disneyland should offer a ride so enchanting. Afloat on a river of green under the bluest of skies through the heart of Paris. The quays, trees, and grand buildings washed in gold by the setting sun. Then plunging momentarily into an echoing coolness as we sailed under the arch of a bridge. The quays alive with families, joggers, and lovers enjoying the warm evening. Tourists waving from passing Bateaux-Mouches boats. And then looming suddenly over the southern rooftops: the Eiffel Tower! Immensely tall, ablaze in lights. Wow!
Can you imagine the effect when it was built in 1889? asked Reina. Rising in a few months in the middle of Paristhe tallest structure in the world?
Pretty impressive, was all I could mutter. I was thinking: Damn. Eat your heart out Golden Gate Bridge.
The ride back upriver in the deepening twilight was just as enthralling: the indigo Seine now outlined on both sides by ribbons of lamps. The ornate facades of riverside structures illuminated from below to stand out against the darkening sky. Passing cruise boats, lit up like Christmas morning, sweeping the quays with inquisitive searchlights. And at my side, the exciting, unsettling, nerve-roiling presence of Reina Vesely.
We had dinner at a small untouristy bistro near the Pont Neuf and quais des Augustins. I was beginning to appreciate the French fondness for leisurely meals. Hey, whats the rush? Who cares if the waiter is bogarting the check and your neighbors are puffing out toxic clouds of nicotine vapors? Dont be so uptight, you Type-A Americans. And candlelight, we must remember always to pause and light the candles. Did anyone in the history of public dining ever look more ravishing illuminated by candlelight than Reina Vesely? I doubt it.
She told me the story of her accident. In keeping with family tradition, from girlhood she had been a trapeze artiste. She performed all over Europe with her father and older brother. (Her mother died of meningitis when she was nine.) Several years before, the circus was making a jump from Toulouse to Arles in bad weather.
We usually performed in public halls, she said, stirring her caf creme, but in Arles we would be under canvas. There were delays. Everything was rushed. My father checked the rigging as he always did, but he did not have much time. The tension on the cables was not balanced. When my brother swung onto the platform where I was standing, a shackle snapped. For some reason there was no redundancy. The platform collapsed. Dusan was killed. He broke his neck. I was not expected to walk again.
Didnt you have a net? I asked.
Of course, Rick. But it did not extend completely under the platform. It partially broke my fall and flipped me backwards so that I landed on my right leg.
Thats awful, Reina.
I was in a bad state. I grieved for my brother terribly and my poor father was inconsolable. My leg was so shattered I washow you say?immobilized for over seven months. My aunt graciously took me inhospital bed and all.
What did you do all those months?
At first, not much. I couldnt read or sew. I was too distraught. I stared at the walls. Then my aunt had the wisdom to present me with my baby Jiri. He and my other darlings gave me a reason to live, and to try to walk again.
And your father?
He quit the circus. Papa blames himself for the accident. But these eventualities are not so uncommon in our profession. That is why people come to see us. To confront their fears. They watch a man in a cage with tigers, or a woman dancing with a bear, or us performing stunts high in the air. For a moment they feel, uh, vicariously . . . That is the correct word?
Yes, vicariously.
They feel vicariously those terrors they would not wish to face in real life.
Where is your father now?
Back in Prague, Rick. He got a job painting the poles of highway signs. He does not mind the heights!
She laughed and looked at her watch.
Oh my, its late, Rick. We dont want to alarm your patient wife.
Amazingly, she extracted the check from the waiter in less than 30 seconds, then embarrassed me by insisting on paying. Riding home on the Mtro, she confessed that in her 17 years she has never had a serious boyfriendjust a platonic beau a few years before. That twit was a Czech horn player. I was flabbergasted. Yes, shes had numerous volunteers for that position from our building, her circus acquaintances, fellow parrot enthusiasts, and the Czech expatriate crowd, but nobodys quite made the grade.
I have a hard enough time getting my birds to do what I want, she laughed. Can you imagine how much trouble a boy could be? Your wifedoes she cause you difficulties?
Endless ones, I confessed.
I thought so. That will teach you to marry a beautiful woman. They never give anyone a moments peace.
Somehow I knew she was including herself in that statement. When I trudged up the stairs to our apartment, My Love was already flossing her exquisite teeth.
Nickie, where were you? I was beginning to worry.
Er, how so? I asked, cautiously.
I feared your headache had progressed to something more serious.
My Love does care about my welfare!
Since we dont have health insurance, she added, that would be an expense we could ill afford.
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