Paulette Dubois angrily ushered her two children into their home. Maurice was a good boy. He could be a bit eccentric at times, but still he was a good boy. Her sixteen year old daughter Ami, however, was a completely different story. If that girl did not send Madame Dubois to an early grave, then she didn't know what would.
"What in God's creation possessed you to say such things to the baker's son!" Madame Dubois shrieked at her teenage daughter, as they entered the house. Was a quiet, uneventful trip to the market too much to ask? She didn't think so!
"Mama!" the girl defended herself, "He was trying to overcharge us. A half franc for a loaf of bread! Outlandish!"
"But Pierre Boulanger is an eligible bachelor. Why, he was a perfect match for you! Pierre won't so much as want to even look at you after those horrible remarks of yours!"
"Good," Ami huffed, "maybe I don't even want a husband."
Madame Dubois pressed a hand to her heart, and collapsed onto a kitchen chair, "Don't want a husband! How can a daughter of mine say such things! The only way a brazen girl like you will ever land a man, is if the Lord himself drops one at our front doorstep!"
Ami immediately fell to her knees, right there on the kitchen floor, clasped her hands together in prayer, and looked upwards towards the ceiling.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, please, I beg you to send me a man. Make him six feet tall, strong, and handsome too! Give him two lips of roses and clover..."
"Stop that at once, Ami!" her mother shouted indignantly.
"And tell him that his lonesome nights are over..." the girl continued her prayer.
"Get up, get up, you wicked girl!"
Finally, Ami stood, smoothing out her apron, "But Mama, I was asking God for a man. You should be happy."
"Your papa and I raised you better than to take the Lord's name in vain," Madame Dubois gasped, still highly angry, "and Maurice, stop fiddling with that contraption, and get to your chores!"
"Oui, Mama," Maurice answered dutifully.
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door, that caught all three family members unawares.
"A visitor?" Madame Dubois puzzled, "At this time in the afternoon?"
"Oh, Mama!" Ami giggled, and spun around in happy circles, "Perhaps God has answered my request for a man so quickly!"
Madame Dubois sighed, and said, "just answer the door, Ami."
The girl cut her award winning performance short, and causally strolled to the door. It was most likely just one of the busybody neighbors like Madame Dupont, or Madame Cloutier. They typically would come by with an alibi to borrow a cup of sugar, but Ami knew all they really wanted was to gossip with her mother. Ami placed her hand upon the knob, and opened the front door. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't this. Standing right in front of her was a man, easily the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. The girl felt as if she would melt, simply by looking at him. Only, Ami was sure she had never seen him around town before today.
"Oh, mon Dieu," breathed Ami, delivering a quick glance towards the heavens.
"Uh," the man began unsure, "bond voy-age."
Did he mean to say, bonne voyage? If that was so, then why would this handsome stranger be wishing her to have a good journey? She wasn't going anywhere. Ami raised her eyebrows with interest. This man had used the worst French accent she had ever heard. He was quite obviously a foreigner. A foreigner! Why, Ami had never met anyone who wasn't born in France before. What was he doing here? And at her home too!
"Bonjour," Ami greeted in a corrective tone.
"Um," the man rubbed the back of his neck, "do you speak any English?"
Ami smirked, "Anglais? Oui, monsieur."
"I..I'm not sure if that means 'yes' or 'no'."
Ami smiled at him again, "It means 'yes'."
"Oh, okay... good," the man sounded relieved, "Is this the Dubois residence?"
The stranger reminded Ami of a frighted, timid deer. His eyes were large, and round like a doe's eyes, but they were the most attractive shade of sea green. Why, even his hair seemed to mimic the color of sand. This man reminded Ami of the seashore. She hadn't seen the beach since her family lived near the coast, in Caen. Whoever this man was, he stirred up some of her long forgotten memories, like the time when Ami had met and befriended a mermaid.
"Oui," nodded Ami.
"We?" he repeated, "Oh, Oui!...yes, yes... good. Is Monsieur Dubois home?"
"Non," Ami shook her head for emphasis.
"Ami," her mother cried form inside the house, "who is it?"
"It's a man," her daughter informed.
Ami laughed to herself when she heard her brother Maurice shout from somewhere in the house, "It's a miracle!"
"A man?" Madame Dubois suddenly appeared at the door, beside her daughter, "How may we help you, Monsieur?"
"Ah, yes, Madame, my name is Marshall Stoddard... I am here about the room. I heard in town that Monsieur Dubois has a room up for rent."
"Oui, this is true, but my husband isn't here at the moment, and I'm sorry Monsieur, but I cannot simply allow a strange man into the house while my husband is away. He should be home from work later this evening."
"Yes, of course. I understand. Thank you, Madame," Monsieur Stoddard bowed, "I'll return later on."
Monsieur Stoddard turned to leave, but Ami called out to him, "Wait a moment, Monsieur!"
Monsieur Stoddard froze, looking rather confused and uncomfortable.
"Mama," the girl addressed her mother sweetly, "it's summer. Just look how hot it is outside! Can't we at least let him in for a quick glass of water?"
Madame Dubois was not a hard woman. In actuality, she was very kind and gentle, but Ami knew exactly how to get her mother worked up, and frankly she was still quite upset with the girl. Still, it was summer, and a man could easily die of thirst in that kind of weather. Oh, well. What was the harm in one glass of water?
"All right, Monsieur," Madame Dubois began gently, "please step inside for a moment. You can cool off here, before going back into the hot sun."
"Thank you, Madame," the man smiled, as he was lead to the kitchen.
Ami sighed inwardly, at the sight of Monsieur Stoddard's charming smile. Were all foreigners as handsome as he was?
"Please sit," Ami said, pushing Monsieur Stoddard into a kitchen chair, "let me get you that glass of water."
Ami placed a cup underneath the faucet and began to pump, unfortunately no water came forth.
"But the well can't be dry!" Madame Dubois gasped, "the pump was working perfectly just this morning!"
"Oh, the well isn't dry," Monsieur Stoddard began thoughtfully, standing and walking over to the pump, "the spring mechanism is missing, that's all."
"It is?" Ami asked.
"Oh, yes," he nodded, "I could clearly see that even from the kitchen table, but who would want to remove the spring from the pump?"
"Maurice!" screeched Madame Dubois.
Instantly, a young boy of fourteen came bounding down the stairs, "Oui, Mama?"
"Did you take apart my pump?"
"Oui, Mama," shrugged Maurice.
"Why would you do such a thing?" his mother sighed in exasperation. Madame Dubois was having one heck of a day.
"For my newest invention!" at least the boy had a good cause to do so.
"But now we have no water, foolish boy!" Ami shouted at her brother, "Papa is going to be so angry when he returns!"
"I can fix it," Monsieur Stoddard offered.
"Oh, non, monsieur," Madame Dubois began, "you do not have to bother."
"Oh, it's no bother," Monsieur Stoddard maintained, "I just need that spring."
"Well, if you insist..." Madame Dubois was hesitant to take advantage of their guest, "Maurice! Get Monsieur Stoddard the spring, now!"
It took all of two minutes for Maurice to retrieve the spring from his 'workshop', and hand it over to Monsieur Stoddard. Their guest immediately set to work on the pump, and Ami watched him intently. She could tell that he was really quite good at working with his hands. Her family's water pump groaned, as Monsieur twisted and turned the spring. in his attempt to pop it back into its rightful place. Ami studied his face carefully. Although his features took on the appearance of a man deep in concentration, Monsieur Stoddard didn't look a day over eighteen years. It wasn't all that much of an age difference, Ami realized with a smile. If she worked hard enough, Ami might just be able to convince her papa of the fact, too.
"Haha! Got it," Monsieur Stoddard proclaimed, as he began to pump the handle up and down. Water began to trickle out of the faucet, just as it always had.
At this, Ami let out a dreamy sigh, but quickly stifled herself, when she noticed her mother was staring at her suspiciously. Perhaps her papa wasn't the only one of Ami's parents who would require a little convincing.
Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah
Oops! It seems that last chapter I wrote that the uber wonderful Converse r life wrote CHAPTER two... not so. What I meant to say was that PARAGRAPH two (of chapter one) was written by the uber wonderful Converse r life. Still, I did edit it a little... So, keep that tidbit in mind, okay? Okay!
There, Converse r life, you should be kissing the keyboard I type on. How may compliments was that in the span of two chapters?
Have you ever seen two turtle doves bill and coo, when they love?
xJadeRainx