PENNY continued

Real Paris was where she was. She walked along the Seine to the Museé d'Orsay, a place she'd been many times before. She fought against pretty things. She wouldn't give into Redon. She did love Cactus Man, but he wasn't there, only Caliban, savage pet. She stared at his sunken eyes and imbalanced limbs. All too dark.

She returned to L'Origine du Monde. She watched the cunt carefully, watched others watching her watching the cunt, watched others watching the cunt watching her.

L'Atelier du peintre calmed her. Uneven planes: shareholders and nobodys— a hunter, a reaper, a textile peddler, an undertaker, a woman suckling a child. In the middle of it all, the artist and his nude, living in the past.

Penny watched a young Parisian couple groping each other in front of a bronze Rodin. She wondered what the couple would look like stuck together in bronze.

*

"Hey don't I know you?"

Penny looked up. "Hey, yeah, aren't you cactus man?"

"That's what they call me," he smiled.

"Well, it's really great seeing you. I was just thinking about you earlier. How are you?"

"I'm better than ever. I'm free."

"What brings you to Paris?"

"I live here. New York isn't what it used to be. No more art. No more culture. No one appreciates me anymore."

Penny nodded.

"I spent the whole day on a bench in the Luxembourg with no book, no companion, just my eyes and ears."

"Do you live near the garden?"

“Not far. Why don’t we go now?”

Penny and Tony walked along the Seine and around Notre Dame to Luxembourg. There was a puppet show and dozens of wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed children watching. No one spoke.

Tony offered his hand and led Penny to Les Deux Magot.

“How is Judith?”

“Dead. She went to bed and never woke up.”

Penny drank her wine. It warmed her from head to toe. Few things had the same effect on her; sometimes Vuillard and Satie or Apollinaire and Rousseau, with a tingle between the legs. She imagined she would have that feeling constantly if only she were born a century before.

They walked back along the Seine and to the Louvre’s courtyard where she had been many times.

*

“What do you think people will say?”

“Have a tart.”

“You’re a tart!”

“You’re a fraud.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re solipsistic.” 

Café de Flore was bustling.

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Only the confused. How’s Cyril?”

“Can’t get enough. We’re going to Le Champo tonight. Blue Velvet is playing.”

“David Lynch creeps me out.”

“He’s sexy.”

“Do you think Muholland Drive was just a dream?”

“Parts of it.”

“But how do you know the difference?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Well, if it’s a dream, then it’s not real. So what’s the point?”

“You have to just go along for the ride, Penny. The problem with you is that you can never let go.”

“That’s not true, Leslie. I'm learning."

“Well, keep it up. Have another drink.”

Story continued

Janet and Neal’s apartment felt safe, tucked between Avenues A and B. Penny drank her glass of lemonade hurriedly. “What’s the rush?” Neal asked. Suddenly self-conscious, Penny wiped her upper lip. “Have you thought anymore about our talk?” Janet asked.

“Yes,” she lied. She had been avoiding the subject all together. “I think you made some very good points. I know I need to be more responsible.”

“Penny, it’s not just about being responsible. You must do something with the time you have. You are privileged, but you've let privilege paralyze you.”

She shook her head in agreement, “I’m working on it. I’ve been thinking of volunteering so I can help people.”

“You need to help yourself first,” Neal poured more lemonade. “You need to take control of your money.”

“But what difference does it make?” Penny rose from the table and walked to the window. “I just don’t want to know.”

“Penny, you’re afraid,” Janet said.

“I don’t want to think about money all the time. I don’t want to worry about how much is or isn’t there.”

“Look, Penny, you’re already worrying, and on top of that, you’re feeling guilty.”

“Well, how should I feel? I couldn’t even buy this lemonade with money of my own.”

“The money is yours. Did you see you Rose this week?”

“She said my chakras are unbalanced.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, she wants 5,000 dollars.”

“And?”

“I’m not convinced.”

*
She stood before an Annunciation, a preparatory study on a small sheet by Correggio. The Virgin is so young and afraid, she thought. Why shouldn't she be? Gabriel is a ghost. I'd get out of there, run away, give it up for adoption. Religious art usually made her uneasy but now she was calm. She'd never have children. What was she meant to do? She walked into the park, back to her bench, with her book. She wasn't hungry or thirsty. She sat and read the story of Isabel Archer.

*

"Hey, Penny! Watch this!" Ben shouted from the bar.

"You watch yourself!" Penny laughed. She sat at a table with Andy, Judith and Leslie.

"We should turn this dump into a brothel. We could make pots of money."

"Don't be silly. We'd be terrible business partners."

"Hey, Ben! Watch this!" Penny stood on her chair and lifted her skirt. "NO PANTIES!"

But it was Judith on the chair. Penny grabbed Judith's skirt and yanked it down.

"Are you nuts?" Penny squeaked.

"You’re so uptight. Have another drink with me."

They left the bar, drove to Penny’s childhood home in Nyack and drank her parents' whisky.

"Everyone in the pool!" There was no pool. They all took off their clothes and jumped in. Penny swam to the deep end and dove to the bottom. She pressed her palms on the concrete. She held her breath longer than she ever had before. She could hear them talking from above.

"She doesn't know how to be happy. Not that it matters. She's mean and ugly too. We’re just using her, you know.”

“She’s probably killing herself now.”

“Saves me the trouble.”

They drove away in a van. Penny sat in the back with Leslie and her cousin and the dog.

"Are you ready for Paris?"

She had forgotten. They were leaving for Paris in a week. They would stay in Leslie's apartment in back of the Sacré-Coeur and eat and drink and fuck and see the sights. She wished she were going somewhere else.

...