CELESTE.

Traditionally, after the market on saturday morning, I offer myself a cold beer at the “Cafe du Midi”.

That’s where I was, when I saw Alexander.

Because of his resemblance to Philippe Noiret, they’re like two peas in a pod, in the film The Happy Alexander, the villagers call him Happy Alexander. I must admit that my friend is quite a phenomenon. A sort of elegant bum light as a balloon, he’s a cross between a romantic poet and a Bantou witch doctor.

“He talks to plants and he talks to animals!” assure some of the villagers.

“To plants?” demand the incredulous.

“Yes, to plants. Not long ago, one even saw him in the Paiolive woods murmuring something bewildering to a thorn bush!”

Alexander took a seat and installed himself at my table.

“Fleche, my dear friend, I have a question of great importance to ask…”

“Alexander, you know perfectly well that if you were to ask me for the moon, I would go off to get it instantly!”

“Good, I’m assured. Do you still practice fly fishing?”

“Yes, of course, it still happens in spite of my slowing down recently on that activity. I confess, it’s because the time I spend in my studio fills me with joy; paint is running like lava from an erupting volcano. What happiness!”

“I’m really happy for you my friend. Sincerely!” and after a slight pause he continued “Not far from your house in the village of Berrias, there is a little river, do you know it?”

“Of course, Alexander, I pass by Berrias frequently and each time I take a look at the river. It’s filled with little fish but the big Chubs there are happy as well, to the delight of the kids who drop there lines there.”

“Well, Fleche, would you believe me if I said that recently, it’s there, that I encountered the biggest trout that I have ever seen. Enormous, it was big like an obese american from Alabama is big, like a swede from Malmoe is big. And the two of us established a friendship as solid as the Tancarville Bridge. Would you like to meet Celeste? That’s her name!”

“My friend, if Celeste bears even the slightest resemblance to the picture that you have painted, I’ll drop everything; let’s go.”

That very day, as the clock struck six, Alexander guided me through a thicket of broken branches, past brambles and a whole heap of thorny obstacles to a little off-shoot of the famous river.

“Sit over there.” motioned Alexander as he called out softly, like Romeo beneath the famous balcony.

“Celeste… Celeste! It’s me… Alexander… Celeste… Come my darling… I want you to meet a good friend of mine.”

And suddenly I saw her, Celeste. Or rather I perceived her gigantic shadow as she slowly approached.

Oh, my friends, if you could have seen this wonder of nature; the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus is nothing compared to the beauty of Celeste. Dressed in finery that would make Chanel, Yamamoto and Jean-Paul Gaultier put together, pale in comparison.
“Go ahead Celeste” said Alexander “do your famous Current Dance for us.”

And the beast, upright on her tail started to whirl like a dervish and contort like a belly-dancer in those middle eastern palaces. And throughout it all she looked at me with a lascivious eye that put me in a state of excitement.

Then the torrid dance was over she leaned toward Alexander and I heard the murmur of incomprehensible words.

“What did she say, Alexander, quickly, tell me!”

“She said that you please her a lot and that she would like you to become her guardian angel and perhaps more than that.”

Time passed (always too fast) and one lovely day Alexander took me by the arm.

“Fleche come quickly, I have something of the utmost importance to show you.”

We retraced our path through the jungle of briars and dead branches and arrived at the famous river where Celeste lived; my mouth dropped open.

Why, you ask me with baited breath?

Well, you may not believe me, it doesn’t matter, but in the middle of the current was Celeste frolicking with at least 50 little fish that she just borne. But where things become astonishing, is that the heads of all of these charming little fry had an unquestionable resemblance to mine. I had become the father of a whole family of trout.

In order to regularize the situation, we stopped by the City Hall and then the church of Berrias, where the priest, with tear-filled eyes, gave us his benediction murmuring: “My children, swim in Peace.”

Today, in spite of the talk of certain villagers (jealous, certainly), Celeste and I experience, a perfect love. All day long I paint in my studio with frenzy while Celeste cleans the pool. And today, with welfare assistance and maternity perks, life has become a real paradise.

(O.K., maybe I should stop doing these crazy hallucinogenic mushrooms…)