“An hour or so, depending on traffic. And don’t think you’re going alone. No way I’m missing this.”
~ * ~
They pulled into the French Quarter district of New Orleans right about dusk. Gil clearly knew his way around the city. He maneuvered around the narrow streets packed with cars and people. Frankly, she thought it was way more scary driving these skinny streets than any congested freeway she’d ever driven on. She loved the names of the streets they crossed as he circled through the French Quarter. Decatur, Chartres, Dauphine, and of course, Bourbon. He pulled into a garage, they dropped off the truck, and walked out onto the street.
“This way.” Gil pointed to the right. He moved to the street side, putting her closest to the buildings and took her elbow, guiding her down the uneven sidewalk.
Madeline had never seen any city like New Orleans. Music spilled out from the bars lining the streets. People walked with drinks in their hands, right out in the open. A man painted all in silver stood absolutely still on a corner. People walking by dropped coins into a pail placed in front of him. A boy tap danced on the sidewalk. Every color of the rainbow dripped from the signs and storefronts. Neon signs glowed in the dusk. Amazing scents wafted from the numerous restaurants they passed. The city overwhelmed all her senses and she grabbed on firmly to Gil as they walked past the chaos that was the French Quarter.
“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Gil asked.
“It is. I’m almost speechless. I’ve heard about the French Quarter, but I’ve never been here. It’s just… I don’t even know how to describe it.”
He grinned at her. “There’s nothing quite like it, is there?” Gil steered her to her right. “Here’s Royal Street. I think the gallery is in the next block.”
They passed antique stores and furniture stores, finally finding the gallery. The front window had two paintings displayed. She could see inside. Free-standing walls were scattered throughout, filled with photographs and paintings. A few sculptures were tucked into the corners.
“Let’s go in.” Gil pushed open the door.
They entered the brightly lit gallery. “There it is.” Madeline tugged on Gil’s arm and pulled him towards the painting, One and Only. Madeline stood there, lost in the artwork and what it meant, the stories it held, the possible answer to her mystery letter.
“Look!” Maddie tugged on Gil’s sleeve. “There’s a small heart carved in the tree. O plus J inside the heart. It’s him. It has to be.”
She watched as Gil peered at the painting. “It is an O plus J. You’re right. It has to be him. Just too many coincidences.”
A man dressed in black slacks, a purple shirt, and an outrageously loud tie came up to them. “May I help you?”
“This painting. We’re trying to find the artist.” Madeline pointed to the painting.
“Ah, Mr. Clark. I’m afraid we don’t give out personal information on our artists.”
“It’s really important that we find him.” Madeline tried to hold her disappointment at bay.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t give you that information.”
“Could you at least get a message to him with our contact information?” Gil suggested.
That was a good idea, surely Mr. Loud Tie could do that for them.
“I’m not sure…”
Mr. Loud Tie wasn’t being as cooperative as she’d hoped.
“Please. It’s important. It’s about… a friend of his.” Madeline didn’t want to sound like she was pleading, but she guessed she was. She wanted desperately to find Paul for Josephine, or maybe it was for herself, but any way she looked at it, she wanted him found.
“I could give him a message next time he’s in.”
“Can’t you call him for us? Or email him?” There was that pleading tone again. She wanted to find Paul. Solve the mystery.
“Give me your information and I’ll see what I can do.” Mr. Loud Tie didn’t sound very convincing.
Madeline pulled out a piece of paper from her purse and wrote down her information and passed the paper and pen to Gil. “Write down your address, too. Maybe if he sees Comfort Crossing he’ll be more likely to respond.”
“Or less likely.” Gil threw in that depressing thought.
Madeline gave the piece of paper to Mr. Loud Tie. “We really appreciate this.”
“I don’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Madeline turned to see Gil was back standing in front of the painting.
“How much is this?” He nodded toward the painting.