Wandering Child

Chapter 9- Monsieur Richard

AM4 knocked on the door that the secretary had indicated. "Come in." Said a voice with a very thick French accent.

AM4 opened the door to reveal a very large office. There was a desk centered at the wall opposite the door, and behind it, sitting on a leather, reclining, chair, was M. Richard.

M. Richard was a large man with a balding head. He looked a bit like a balloon that has been filled with too much water. His gray hair could be found only on the sides of his head, and he covered his bald spot with a very low-quality toupee. It made him look older, rather than younger. The main reason for this was because of the fact that his wig was brown, while the rest of his hair was a mousy gray. He had styled his toupee in a hideous comb-over and was wearing a fancy, tailored outfit that made him look very much like a poor man who is trying to appear rich.

Hanging from inside his left pocket, by a gold chain, was a gold -painted pocket watch. Some of the paint was peeling, and underneath rust could be seen. He picked it up and squinted at it before shaking his head and putting it back it in his pocket.

As he stood, his whole belly seemed to ripple and quiver. The pocket watch fell out of his pocket and hung, swinging, by the chain. He didn't seem to notice. When he walked towards us, he reminded me of a peacock. He didn't walk. He strutted.

He reached out one pudgy hand and grabbed mine, shaking it vigorously. At first I didn't understand why he shook my hand first. It obviously annoyed the hell out of AM4. Then I caught the glint in his eyes. I inwardly shuddered, and gracefully removed my hand from his sweaty palm. That was the very first time I regretted being eighteen.

"I'm M. Richard." He said, looking directly at me for a moment before glancing at AM4 and AM3.

While we had been on the plane, AM4 and AM3 had changed into less conspicuous outfits. They both now wore jeans, and T-shirts. However, they kept their masks on. M. Richard didn't seem to notice.

Then, AM4 intervened. He stepped in front of me so as to be able to get M. Richard's full attention. I could have hugged him.

"M. Richard." He said. "I am Mr. Smith. This is my colleague, Miss Beaumont." He gestured to Joey, who was standing very close beside him. She held out her hand, but M. Richard ignored her. AM4 cleared his throat before continuing.

"We represent the Beaumont Architectural Corporation." He paused before stepping aside. He put his arm around me protectively. "This is my little sister, Marie." He put special emphasis on the word, 'sister'. M. Richard either didn't notice, or didn't care. He just stared at me. I thought that he was probably staring at me in the same way he would look at a piece of pie.

"She's sixteen and is doing a project on architecture in Paris" AM4 continued. He had put special emphasis on the age. Once again, he had come to my rescue. This time, M. Richard seemed to hear him.

"Oh, yes." He said, as though he'd never heard of or seen AM4 before. He finally pulled his gaze away from me.

"What can I do for you, Monsieur?" He asked AM4.

"We have an appointment to speak with you about the architecture of the Opera." Joey said, stepping closer to me. I was only slightly shorter than Joey, but AM4 dwarfed me. He was definitely over six feet tall. But not only was he tall, he was a well-built guy too. He probably could have played professional football if he didn't run the risk of losing his mask.

M. Richard licked his lips thoughtfully. He gave me one last mournful glance before turning around to sit down in his chair. The chair looked like it had taken a lot of abuse, and was ready to fall over. Somehow, though, it managed to hold his weight.

As for M. Richard's desk, it was in shambles. Aside from the food stains dotting the top, the desk itself was in fairly good condition. The finish had been rubbed away in some places, but the general piece looked like it hadn't suffered too much damage.

The problem with his desk was not the condition of the furniture itself, but the condition of what was on the furniture. There were papers strewn everywhere, and used plastic cups, forks, and knives were strewn all over the large desk, and all over the papers. He had stacks of paper that looked as though they were about to topple over, and there was a brown stain on a mug that looked as though it had once been edible.

The whole room stank like an undead monkey's cage, and looked like a tornado had blown through. To top it all off, there was a garbage can beside the desk that was completely empty. It was obvious that M. Richard was a lazy slob.

M. Richard swept away an entire pile of papers off of his desk. The papers came crashing to the floor. M. Richard looked at the mess he had made with only mild interest before turning his attention to AM4 and AM3. He gestured for us to sit down in the not-so-clean guest chairs. I perched on the end of mine.

"You say you have an appointment. I don't know of any such appointment." M. Richard leaned back and the chair groaned beneath his weight. He scratched the exposed part of his belly and farted loudly. It stank up the room even more.

I could no longer stand seeing him sitting there, acting like a slob, without any consideration for his guests. Whether he though we were uninvited or not, it's still good manners to have your office in at least a somewhat presentable order. If he did one more disgusting, slovenly thing, I was going to give him a piece of my mind.

M. Richard leaned forward as AM4 began to speak.

"We were specifically invited by you personally, M. Richard." AM4 said. M. Richard didn't seem to be paying any attention. He picked something out from under his fingernail and looked at it.

"Je ne souviens pas a manger ca." He muttered in French and ate whatever it was that he had dug out from under his nail.

I had had enough. I stood up. "I'm Sorry, Monsieur." I said. "Mais Je ne peut pas tolerer ces types d'actions. C'est terrible!" I started shouting and swearing in French. "Vous, Monsieur, vous êtes l'homme le plus stupide que j'ai vue dans toute de ma vie! Vous avez une poubelle just à côté de votre bureau, et vous n'utiliserez pas! C'est encroyable! Vous êtes, probablement, la personne la plus dégoûtant au monde! Je ne peut pas rester ici!" And with that, I left the office. I stood outside it, and leaned against the wall.

After a few minutes, Joey came out and leaned against the wall beside me. We said nothing for several moments. Joey was the one to break the silence.

"I didn't know you could speak such fluent French." She commented. "Such a colorful language."

"I'm not going back in there." I stated, pushing myself off of the wall. "He's a slovenly, unkempt, overweight, perverted balloon of a man, and he looks at me as though I were a dessert at an all-you-can-eat buffet." I said with extreme emphasis.

Suddenly, someone touched my shoulder. I jumped, and whirled around. "Oh." I said. "It's just you." It was the secretary, Jenny.

"Pardoner-moi." She said. "But I couldn't help but over hear your conversation. I felt that I should explain something to you about M. Richard. It's true that he is very rude and has no manners, but he also has a lot of power in Paris, believe it or not. He owns a large estate outside the city and has many friends in power. It would be wise not to offend him." She looked at me seriously.

"You're joking, right?" I asked. She shook her head. "That is not a man." I said. "That is a disgusting alien who has taken over a man's body. I'd bet you a thousand Euros that if someone told him that fried food was healthy for you, he'd be dead from clogged arteries within a week."

"Well, that may be." she said. "But he still has a lot of power."

Joey stopped me from answering and said politely, "Thank you, Mademoiselle for your advice." Jenny nodded and returned to her desk.

"I'll tell you one thing," Joey said, looking at me seriously. "I'll never want to eat a hamburger again as long as I live." She smiled and we laughed together. It felt good to have a friend.

A/N: M. Richard is a pervert. I thought it would make it more interesting if I added something a little different. Another one of life's little obstacles. In answer to the question you are probably wondering, yes I speak French. I based most of the main character on myself (except for the skinny part). Here are the translations:

1) I don't remember eating that.

2) But I can't tolerate these kinds of actions. It's terrible! You, sir, you are the stupidest man I have ever met in my entire life! You have a garbage right next to your desk, and you don't even use it! It's incredible! You are probably the most disgusting person on the planet! I can't stay here.

3) Pardon me.