was the store owner. He looked into Gastien’s huge, dark eyes. The poor kid was so green. Here he was, spending his last money on paints! How would he eat? Then, as he looked at Gastien, he got the strangest feeling…it was almost as if he could see the boy as a man and he was painting in his studio…not real clear…and how on earth would this boy survive, let alone have his own studio…but the vision would not leave him. He suddenly knew, without a doubt, that he was staring at someone who would develop great talent despite the horrible odds.
“Oh, that is quite alright, Monsieur ,” the owner said mildly. “We are starting a big, storewide sale tomorrow anyway. You are just one day early. I would rather give you the discount now. Otherwise, you would haul everything back in for return in a day or two simply to buy it again at sale price.” The boy did not have to know there was not going to be a sale.
“Oh, that is grand!” Gastien said happily. “It looks like today will end up being good after all!”
As he was leaving, the owner also slipped a book into Gastien’s tote. “That book is a book used at Académie Julian for beginning oils. Some student left it here over a month ago and has not been back. I see no reason why you should not have it,” the shop owner said kindly.
“ Merci beaucoup ! That is very kind!” Gastien was very pleased. “I will be back in the future for more supplies, just wait and see!”
“I know you will, Monsieur ,” the man stated quietly. “I saw a vision of you in your studio.”
“You did? Really? Did I look like I do now?” Gastien asked anxiously. “How long is it going to take?”
“I am not a fortune teller, boy. I wish I was. I simply saw the vision this time. You had hair below your shoulders, and your face was the face of a man.”
“Well. I am glad to know you saw me painting in a studio, but it will take some time to grow hair that long,” mused Gastien. “Still, maybe I had the studio quite awhile before, right?”
The shop owner smiled. “You never know. I have to tell you, you look great in long hair! That will set people back for sure, seeing you with that hair. Ha! Something tells me you will be a true nonconformist. Good luck to you!”
VIII
Gastien made his way slowly back to Notre Dame . It was still too early to go in, he might get caught. He sat down on a bench on the street in a little grassy area nearby, getting out the book. He read until the light faded, then decided to go in. He could always pretend to be praying if people were around.
He walked into the old church, sitting in a back pew. There was still a service going on. It was in Latin, which he did not understand, so he could get lost in his own thoughts. He thought about what the shop keeper had said about seeing him painting in his own studio. That had to be a sign! But, the long hair? Men did not wear their hair long anymore! He knew it would be awhile before he could get a haircut. Well, maybe he would just let it grow. That would make people know who he was and that could never hurt. Plus, if he ended up with nice hair it might attract women. They might like someone who dared to be different. Soon Gastien was asleep in the back row, dreaming about how he might look in long hair.
He jerked awake an hour or so later. People were finally leaving as the organ played loudly. He got down on his knees like he was praying, so that no one could get a good look at him. He did not want to be recognizable to anyone who came around here frequently. After everyone had left, he walked outside. He headed across the street and waited another hour to make sure it was reasonable to assume he would be alone. He saw the priest leave and go to his quarters.
Gastien walked back in and hurried to the toilet. He cautiously made his way back to his Catherine. He opened the bench. Everything was there as he had left it. Relief surged through him.
He would have to change to his other set of
“Oh, that is quite alright, Monsieur ,” the owner said mildly. “We are starting a big, storewide sale tomorrow anyway. You are just one day early. I would rather give you the discount now. Otherwise, you would haul everything back in for return in a day or two simply to buy it again at sale price.” The boy did not have to know there was not going to be a sale.
“Oh, that is grand!” Gastien said happily. “It looks like today will end up being good after all!”
As he was leaving, the owner also slipped a book into Gastien’s tote. “That book is a book used at Académie Julian for beginning oils. Some student left it here over a month ago and has not been back. I see no reason why you should not have it,” the shop owner said kindly.
“ Merci beaucoup ! That is very kind!” Gastien was very pleased. “I will be back in the future for more supplies, just wait and see!”
“I know you will, Monsieur ,” the man stated quietly. “I saw a vision of you in your studio.”
“You did? Really? Did I look like I do now?” Gastien asked anxiously. “How long is it going to take?”
“I am not a fortune teller, boy. I wish I was. I simply saw the vision this time. You had hair below your shoulders, and your face was the face of a man.”
“Well. I am glad to know you saw me painting in a studio, but it will take some time to grow hair that long,” mused Gastien. “Still, maybe I had the studio quite awhile before, right?”
The shop owner smiled. “You never know. I have to tell you, you look great in long hair! That will set people back for sure, seeing you with that hair. Ha! Something tells me you will be a true nonconformist. Good luck to you!”
VIII
Gastien made his way slowly back to Notre Dame . It was still too early to go in, he might get caught. He sat down on a bench on the street in a little grassy area nearby, getting out the book. He read until the light faded, then decided to go in. He could always pretend to be praying if people were around.
He walked into the old church, sitting in a back pew. There was still a service going on. It was in Latin, which he did not understand, so he could get lost in his own thoughts. He thought about what the shop keeper had said about seeing him painting in his own studio. That had to be a sign! But, the long hair? Men did not wear their hair long anymore! He knew it would be awhile before he could get a haircut. Well, maybe he would just let it grow. That would make people know who he was and that could never hurt. Plus, if he ended up with nice hair it might attract women. They might like someone who dared to be different. Soon Gastien was asleep in the back row, dreaming about how he might look in long hair.
He jerked awake an hour or so later. People were finally leaving as the organ played loudly. He got down on his knees like he was praying, so that no one could get a good look at him. He did not want to be recognizable to anyone who came around here frequently. After everyone had left, he walked outside. He headed across the street and waited another hour to make sure it was reasonable to assume he would be alone. He saw the priest leave and go to his quarters.
Gastien walked back in and hurried to the toilet. He cautiously made his way back to his Catherine. He opened the bench. Everything was there as he had left it. Relief surged through him.
He would have to change to his other set of
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