Let Them Have Cake (27 page)

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Authors: Kathy Pratt

BOOK: Let Them Have Cake
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Jeff looked thoughtful before replying, “That phrase supposedly originated from the last song a swan sings before it dies.”

             
“How sad!” Anna looked stricken.

             
“It would be sad if it was true, but since they don’t sing, I’m not sure how one could sing a last song.”

             
Anna laughed. “Good point. What is it doing? It looks like it’s dancing on the water.”

             
They watched the big black swan spread its wings and flap them slightly as it appeared to stand on the water and move several feet. The other continued to float serenely and ignore the movements of the dancing one. After a few seconds, the first swan repeated its dancing movement across the water.

             
“What do you think it’s doing?” Anna asked.

             
“I’m just guessing, of course, but I would guess that this is the male and he’s trying to capture the attention of the female swan. She’s completely oblivious to what he’s doing, or
maybe she’s playing hard to get.”

             
Anna giggled. “That does look like what he’s doing. I wonder why she’s ignoring him.”

             
Jeff took both of her hands in his and gently kissed her on the lips. “I don’t know why she’s playing games. I’m just glad you stopped toying with me.”

             
“I resent that. I never played games. We just had some misunderstandings.” Anna flipped her hair over her shoulder and removed her hands from his.

             
Jeff embraced her in a huge hug and said, “I’m joking with you. I’m sorry. Let’s go do some more exploring.”

             
“A man that apologizes. I like that.”

             
The paths remained deserted throughout the hamlet. They could see maintenance workers clearing brush, raking fallen leaves, and picking up traces of modern trash that had been dropped by thoughtless visitors. The chicken house was right where Anna remembered it to be, but there weren’t any clucking hens pecking about looking for food. The nests inside were filled with straw but were empty of eggs and chickens.

             
They came upon the barn, and Anna ran to the door that was partially open. “Come on. We can squeeze through here. There must be something inside.”

             
Anna was able to get through the opening fairly easily, but it was more difficult for Jeff. He pushed, Anna pulled, and
eventually he broke through. It was dark inside and they stood for awhile waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dim light.

             
“Do you see anything?” Anna asked.

             
“No. It’s empty in here. I see stalls on the other side, but no animals,” Jeff answered.

             
“I wonder whatever happened to Bessie-Daisy.”

             
Jeff looked puzzled. “Who is Bessie-Daisy?”

             
Anna smiled at the memory of the gentle bovine. “She was a friend I would talk to when I felt lonely. I guess since you were the mighty hunter, you didn’t get inside the barn too often.”

             
“Not to do chores, anyway. Would Bessie-Daisy have been a cow by any chance?” Jeff asked, memories beginning to surface.

             
“As a matter of fact she was. I named her Bessie at first but then realized she reminded me of one of my Aunt Grace’s cows, so I added Daisy to her name. We had lots of long talks here in the barn.”

             
Jeff stifled a smile. “Oh really, what else did you do here in the barn?”

             
“Well, I was sent here to gather eggs from the wayward hens, and...”

             
He had a loving look in his eyes and stepped closer to Anna. “Go on. Where did you look for those eggs?”

             
“All over the barn. Anywhere there was straw. I’d even
climb up the ladder to the hayloft to look for eggs.”

             
“The hayloft? I seem to have some memory of the hayloft coming to me. Something about sweet smelling hay is attracting my attention right now. Where is the ladder?”

             
Anna walked confidently in the direction of where she remembered the ladder to have been. She was surprised to find it in exactly the place.

             
“Here it is, Jeff. I’ll go up first.” She climbed the ladder to the loft, turned around, and encouraged Jeff to join her. “Come on up. There aren’t any wayward Frenchmen, tourists, or rabid chickens that I can see.”

             
Jeff made his way up the ladder. “This must not be part of what the tourists like to see, but they obviously keep the hay changed up here. It’s nice and fresh.”

             
Anna fell back into the hay. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her mouth curved into a smile.

             
“What are you smiling at? Does this feel familiar to you?” Jeff asked.

             
“Yes. Doesn’t it remind you of something? It should.”

             
Jeff settled into the hay next to Anna. He lifted himself on one elbow and stroked her hair with the other hand. “I’m remembering steamy sex in sweet smelling hay. Am I right?”

             
Anna pulled him to her. “You win the prize. I’m ready for a repeat performance.”

             
He kissed her tenderly at first and then more vigorously. His hand reached under her blouse and freed her breasts from the confines of her bra. “I remember that you weren’t wearing a bra back then.”

             
“That corset thing was a lot worse than a
Victoria
’s Secret bra, don’t you think?”

             
Just then, they both heard the barn door squeak. A man’s voice called out, “Allo? Qui est-la?”

             
Anna dropped her voice to a whisper. “What should we do?”

             
“Just be quiet and maybe he’ll leave.”

             
“But what if he locks us in? We’d better let him know we’re up here.”

             
Jeff was quiet for a moment. “I guess you’re right. He might lock us in. Straighten your clothes while I tell him.”

             
He walked to the edge of the hayloft and peered down. “We’re up here.”

             
A short, stocky little man standing in the center of the barn looked up at Jeff. “What are you doing here?” he asked in heavily accented English.

             
“We saw the door was open and decided to explore.”

             
Anna had dressed and joined Jeff. “We were looking for chickens.”

             
The little man said, “There are no chickens here and tourists aren’t allowed inside the buildings except on guided
tours. Please come down now.”

             
They descended the ladder and stood before the man who scolded them as if they were children.

             
“Do not go into any of the other buildings, even if the doors are open. These are very old and some areas might not be safe. I’ll have to ask you to leave the hamlet if you do.”

             
“We promise we won’t, sir.” Anna looked closer at the man. “Excuse me, sir, but are you Vally Broussard?”

             
He scoffed at this. “Am I Vally Broussard? Of course I am not he. He has been dead for centuries. Why would you think I am he?”

             
“Well, you look just like him. Are you related?”

             
The little man took off his beret and scratched his head, looking at Anna as if she were insane. “Madame. How would you know what Vally Broussard looked like?”

             
Anna recovered quickly. “I read a description of him and you look like what I imagined him to look like. Are you related?”

             
“I do not know, Madame, but many of the villagers around this area are related. I suppose I could be. Now, would you please leave so I can finish my work and lock up?”

             
Jeff led Anna towards the door. “We’re sorry. We’ll go now and look at the outsides of the buildings only.”

             
The little man watched them depart. They could hear him
mutter, “Vous Americains-vous estes tous les memes! Tous fous!”

             
This caused them to start laughing. They held hands and ran along the pathway until they were far enough away from the barn so the man wouldn’t hear them, then collapsed to the ground in hysteria.

             
Jeff smiled at Anna. “I guess we’ll have to wait until we get back to the hotel for a roll in the hay.”

             
Anna looked at her watch. “That will probably be safer and more private. We’d better go look at the rest of the hamlet. It’s getting late.

             
As they walked, Anna remembered activities that had taken place while she was in the hamlet. She thought of the people she’d met and wondered what had happened to Monique, Jacques, Genevieve, Pierre and all the others. Of course she knew the Queen’s fate but hoped her other friends had somehow escaped with their lives.

             
Jeff stopped walking and surveyed his surroundings. “There doesn’t seem to be anything else to see here. Shall we leave?”

             
“Not yet, please. I have to find something that validates my having been here.” Anna looked panicked at the thought of leaving. “I just have to. Let’s go to the ‘
Temple
d’ Amour’. I just remembered something we left there.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

             
Anna stood staring at the base of a tree. “Do you remember where you buried it?”

             
“I walked exactly twelve paces south from the ‘
Temple
’ and dug a hole.” Jeff looked perplexed. “The problem now is the tree that’s here is much larger, and all the rest of the trees look new, so I’m not sure where to dig.”

             
“Maybe this is the original tree and the others were recently planted. Do you remember reading in the Los Angeles Times about the wind storm that came through here in December of 1999? Most of the trees that blew down were more than 200 years old.”

             
“You’re probably right.” Jeff continued looking at the base of the tree. 

             
Anna walked to where Jeff was standing. “Is this twelve paces?”

             
“No, it’s more like ten, but this tree is huge now.” Jeff looked at her questioningly.

             
“Then I would suggest you dig right here at the base.”

             
Jeff smiled approvingly. “Do you have anything in your purse to dig with?”

             
Anna searched through her bag and withdrew an object. “How about this letter opener I bought as a souvenir? Will it work?”

             
“It should. The ground is soft from all the rain.”

             
“I don’t have a shovel in here and I don’t think the little farmer man will loan us one, so it better work.”

             
Jeff knelt down and started digging. The soil was rich and soft and loosened easily. “This is a lot easier than digging in
California
clay.”

             
“I’d better go look and see if anyone is around. We wouldn’t want to get in trouble again.”

             
Anna walked down the path in one direction and didn’t see anyone coming, so turned and walked the other way. There weren’t any people there, either. She returned to Jeff and was surprised to see how deep the hole was getting.

             
“Wow. You’ve gotten a lot done. Have you found anything yet?”

             
“Not yet.” He continued digging vigorously. “There are so many roots that could be concealing the bag.”

             
Anna watched anxiously as he dug in the fertile soil. Finding the buried objects would be the absolute proof she needed for herself. If they had truly been here in 1789, the bag
of coins would be concrete evidence that she hadn’t dreamed the whole encounter during her feverish illness.

             
Jeff’s eyes were open wide, and he had stopped digging. “I just struck something hard.”

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