BORN AGAIN

Chapter 2 : My wound

In the midst of a sunny day, the Rivoli street is invaded by a crowd of tourists who are gaping at this Haussmann building as if it was a chef-d'oeuvre. Many of them are struggling to have a glimpse of mischievous Parisian women who would tiptoe naked in front of their French double windows. The temperature is fairly consistent and averages about 34 degrees. The sky is cloudless and invites inhabitants to avoid the dangerous sunbeams. However, a hovering of darkness is sensed in the atmosphere.
At the bottom of the building, three fancy ladies are gathering at La Cooperative café. The waiter is delightedly writing the dish of the day on the Café's chalkboard for the customers who are willing to taste of French traditional dishes. Indeed, it is inscribed : "Ratatiné comme une ratatouille."

'Today's special is ''La Ratatouille'', a masterpiece of French cuisine ! If you're a lover of marrow squashes, eggplants and zucchinis, do not think to much or you would be « ratatiné ».'' exclaimed the joyful waiter.'

The ladies who were wondering what ''ratatiné'' meant, were out-loudly gossiping in English about the waiter and especially because of his ridiculous accent. Their passive voices resonated from the 1st floor to the 5th one of the Haussmann building and was accompanied by the vibrato and stabbing sound of the jackhammer. The workers who were keen on damaging the road of the Rivoli street, were operating the self-reciprocating motion of their tool which pointed bit busted up the concrete. The No U turn panel fell on the road because of the vibrations. Naturally, the gossip ladies turned their Ray-ban sunglasses over one of the handsome workers whose earplugs were protecting him more from their laughs instead of the pounding noise of the jackhammer.

Nevertheless, there is much to be explored in this perfect day. Paris is not only a synonym of fancy women, handsome workers, historical buildings and tasty « Ratatouilles ». It is also a place of hidden secrets. At the 4th floor of the Haussmann building, the sunbeams went through the net curtain of one of the smaller balconies and elaborate windows. A table was settled before it and a man was standing in front of it, wondering why the sun rays seem to illuminate him on purpose.

'Let's destroy those spotlights !' he exclaimed, raising his hand only over his right-eye in order to protect himself from the light beam.

A few minutes later, he gathered a painting palette knife, modeling tools, wire loop tools, needle tools and ranked each one of them in a particular order on the table. He paused. Then, he seemed resolved to meticulously observe the sculpting tools, at least for a minute. The hot wind blew in all directions and announced the sound of the pounding up and down of the jackhammer which started to accelerate.

Instantly, he grabbed the polymer clay and violently threw it on the table that he carefully prepared to sculpt a face in clay. He paused again. The Picture of Dorian Gray appeared in his imagination but as long as he was recollecting his mind, it vanished. Fortunately, on the left side of the French double window, a canva oil portrait was hanged on the white pastel wall. The facial shape of the mysterious subject of this painting was irresistibly splendid and the chiaroscuro treatment of the background made him more attractive.

'Is it a mirage...' the man undoubtedly murmured.

All of a sudden, he worked on the polymer clay and warmed it with his sophisticated hands. Moreover, he softly applied pressure over the surface and nicely blended the shape of the face. A few seconds passed and the man took the modeling tools to match a nose with the face and also pushed a needle tool inward in order to create nostrils and a mouth. In addition, the right-eye was carefully sculpted with the wire loop tools and the painting palette knife. The left-eye was omitted. Everything was smoothed out by the nimble fingers of the man. At the end, he was moved to tears, and sat down on a Loberon New Orleans chair, unwilling to be relieved.

The jackhammers' sound and the never-ending laughs of the 3 ladies faded away for a short moment. The man checked his agitation and kept composed. He difficultly turned his sight over the magnificent Amaryllis belladonna which were well arranged in a flower-pot. They were exhibited on the Dronne pedestal table and reminded him of some good memories. At the bottom of it was laying a paper blank letter which strikingly drew his attention. The contents of the note were echoing one verse of the Bible : Psalm 139:14 ''I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.''

'Blasphemy !'

He shouted with all of his heart and glared at the reflection of his face in the antique porcelaine mirror which was disposed on the right side of the window. It was unavoidable that the man reached out the flower-pot, firmly seized it and cold-heartedly flung it on the mirror. The large nippon double handled vase was broken and some drops of water were running down the antique mirror. Similar to a curtain of tears, the drops of water blurred the reflection of his face. His hand was shaking.

'The mirror does not lie, Adam.' he added.

As he was heaving, he peered at the portrait once again and took no notice of the mirror anymore.
He grabbed the face in clay that he prudently modeled and took a wire cutter to reshape it. As long as he was smoothing it out, he could hear the crescendo and intolerable laughs of the ladies along with the persistant sound of the jackhammer.

'Stop that, please !' he desperately cried out. It was the last straw that broke the camel's back and when the handsome worker ceased to pound up and down the jackhammer, a mark of change was seen in his demeanor. Adam accidentally made an incision with the painting palette knife where the left-eye was supposed to be sculpted. Standing like a clumsy child, he dropped the sculpted face on the floor. While he was attempting to grab it, the ladies had a fit of the giggles and at the same moment, he stared at it once again and said : 'Deformed...'