Frankie in Paris by Shauna McGuiness Page B

acting exactly that age,
crossing her arms and shaking her head, white hair bouncing.
    Glaring at her, I put down the fork.   I should have made a piece fly up and tag her
on the stubborn nose.   But I didn’t:   how’s
that for willpower?
    ***
    The   performance began, and my party animal grandmother
used two fingers in her mouth to whistle like a bachelor party guest.   I scrunched my eyes closed and took a deep
breath.
    The show was full of color, music, and
breasts.  
    Many, many breasts.  
    Large breasts.   Small breasts.   Obviously human
engineered breasts.   There were dance
numbers which represented countries from all over the world.   Countries where I am sure breasts are usually
covered.
    Eventually, I no longer saw only boobs and
noticed some of the really cool things about the production:   there was a real ice skating rink during one
part and a water fountain show during one of the songs.   An aircraft came out of the ceiling for one
number.   A dancer was carried onstage by
a huge artificial elephant during another. Once you got past the knockers, it
was a really fabulous production.  
    ***
    I clapped my hands after the finale and saw
that my grandmother had fallen asleep.   Her chin touched her chest, and I’m sure I would have heard snoring if
the cast hadn’t arrived for their bows.   She was slumped so far down in her seat that I couldn’t see below her
nose without standing a bit. Both miniature white wicker shoes sat on the floor
underneath her feet.  
    Only a few bites of her meal were missing from
her plate.
    Waiting until most of the audience had filed
out the door,   Mr. Annoyed slammed the
empty champagne bottle down in front of me, making Lulu open her eyes.
    “Oh dear,” she yawned.   Then she realized where she was sitting.   “Oh dear!”
    “Come on, Lulu, let’s go find the Metro
station.   I have your bottle.”  
    I grabbed her purse and my bags and helped her
out of her seat.
    It took her a few minutes to wake up, but she was
completely awake by the time we reached the Arc de Triomphe.  
    So much larger than I had imagined, it had been
there at the end of the Champs-Élysées all day, and I hadn’t noticed it.   Lights were focused on it, and I could see
all the beautiful carvings.   Likenesses
of soldiers and angels holding trumpets spilled down the sides.   Names were inscribed in it as well.   Large enough for a bi-plane to fly right
through the center, it was enormous.   It
was almost two hundred years old, having been commissioned by Napoleon
Bonaparte.
    I was in awe, but sensed that Lulu needed to
get back to the hotel.   Holding her free
arm, we maneuvered the steps down into the Charles de Gaulle Metro
Station.  
    ***
    The car that we chose was almost empty, and we chose
seats a few rows down from some young men.   They were being goofy, singing what sounded like French drinking
songs.   I doubted that they had been
drinking two hundred dollar champagne. One of them held a large water bottle,
and I suspected it was full of something other than the intended product.
    For a moment it looked like Lulu was going to
fall asleep again, but instead she began to sing:  
    “
Frère Jacues,
Frère Jacques,
    Dormez-vous,
dormez-vous?
    Sonnez
les matines,
    Sonnez
les matines,
    Din,
din, don! Din, din, don! "
    Then
she continued in English:
    “Are
you sleeping, Are you sleeping,
    Brother
John, Brother John?
    Morning
bells are ringing,
    Morning
bells are ringing,
    Ding,
Ding, Dong! Ding, Ding, Dong!”
    Cheers
of encouragement sounded behind us.   I
sat with my back to them, hands in my lap.
    “This
is fun,” Lulu said.
    “Fun,”
I echoed through gritted teeth.   About as
fun as the time I had my wisdom teeth removed. Even though I was a product of
evolution and only had three, getting them pulled was this kind of fun. It was fun, and it started with a capital F.   Kind of like another word I wanted to
shout.       
    Only
that word had