Francium
by: Terri Talley Venters
“Finally!” Yvette said, handing over thirty
Euros to enter the Catacombs beneath Paris, France. She tucked her black hair
behind her ear and then dropped her change into the zipper compartment of her
hot pink cinch sack.
“I can’t believe we waited four hours in line
for this,” Yvette’s lover, Antoine, complained.
“I’m sorry, my love, but I hear it’s to die for.”
Yvette turned on her heel with a flirtatious smile. Her yellow sundress twirled
around her summer-tanned legs.
Yvette descended over two-hundred stairs with
Antione in tow. She walked briskly to the main “display areas” of the Catacombs.
“This is creepy.” Antoine stuffed his hands in
his pockets and grimaced at the macabre display of skeletons. He snapped a few
photos to commemorate their visit.
“Don’t be a ‘fraidy cat, you wuss.” Yvette
admired each morbid pattern of human bones decorating the winding tunnels of
the Catacombs.
“I’m not a wuss, I’m just hungry. Can we go
soon?”
“No way! We waited four hours, we may as well
make the most of the time we have left until closing.” Yvette stopped in front
of a wrought-iron gated door blocking a side tunnel.
“Don’t even think about it,” Antoine put his
foot down. “See the sign? ‘Do not stray from the main tunnel’.”
“Oh, now you want to obey the signs. I noticed
you didn’t have a problem taking flash pictures.” Yvette pointed to the “No
flash photography” sign.
‘Touché.”
“I just want to see what’s back here.” Yvette
tugged on the gated door and stepped back, pleasantly surprised that the door
wasn’t locked.
“What if we get caught?”
Yvette shrugged with a wicked grin. “I don’t see
any cameras or guards.” Yvette stepped through the open gate and used her phone
as a flashlight.
“Arrghh, okay, you win.” Antoine begrudgingly
followed his truant girlfriend into the forbidden tunnels of the Catacombs.
“Wow, this is fascinating! Look at all these
hallowed out niches in the walls. There’s dozens of skeletons here. I wonder
why they don’t include this as part of the tourist path.” She stepped through an
opening and into an enormous cavern.
“Wow! It must be at least fifty feet high.” Antoine
gazed up in awe.
“Are those stairs up there?” Yvette pointed
towards a crumbling staircase.
“It looks like they lead to more tunnels.” Antione,
now committed to the adventure, led Yvette up the narrow brick stair case.
“Better let me test them first. If I fall, don’t try to grab me or you’ll go
down with me.”
“Ahh, how valiant.” Yvette cooed.
Antoine gingerly ascended the stairs, using the
decorative bones as hand rails. “Careful, this part is tricky and we’re almost
at the top.
“Give me a break, I’m not going to…..” Yvette’s
foot slipped as she reached her hand to grab the skull imbedded into the
wall. “Help me!”
With quick reflexes, Antoine grabbed her arm and
tried to pull her up. “I got you, don’t look down.” Antoine’s calm tone tried
to soothe her, but his panicked eyes revealed his fear of losing her.
“Antoine, let go or we’ll both die.” Yvette’s
mind worked rationally to sacrifice her life for his.
“No, I’d rather die with you than live without
you!” He pulled her arm up and slowly lifted her torso to meet his.
“Oh, Antoine! You saved me.” Yvette hugged her
lover with relief.
‘There, I got you, my love. Let’s go home.”
Rumbling noises vibrated through the cavern.
Rocks and bricks crumbled beneath their feet and they fell five stories, still
entwined in each other’s arms.
***
“Here’s two more, Andre,” Yvette heard a
Catacomb worker sigh. His tone dripped with a combination of disdain, exasperation,
and just a tad of sympathy.
“How awful, Philippe. Why do we bother to post
signs warning tourists not to veer off the carefully tunneled path?” A younger
worker asked rhetorically.
Oh, thank
goodness you found us. Yvette’s comment went
unnoticed.
“Stupid Americans.” Philippe started to pull the
lifeless forms out into the center of the aisle.
I’m not
American! I live in the south of France. Yvette retorted, defending her nationality.
“How long do you think they’ve been down here?”
Andre asked.
“Years. The rats ate the flesh. Just bones and
tattered clothes left.”
“Should we report it?” Andre asked?
“No, it’s almost closing time. I’m too old to deal with the hassle and
paperwork. Besides, you’re meeting that sexy Mademoiselle, at the café in an
hour.
“Great point, my Manon, does not like to be kept
waiting, especially since she is always late herself.”
“That settles it, then. Here give me a hand with
this skull.” Philippe pulled the head off of Yvette.
Nooo! What
are you doing? That hurts. Yvette screamed as loud
as she could. Her head snapped off of her spine and the older worker
meticulously stacked it on top of the pile of hundreds of other skulls.
“Did you hear something? It sounds like a faint
scream.” Andre said. He crossed his arms and warded off a chill.
“Yeah, sometimes the spirits lingers, like they
don’t realize they’re dead,” Philippe said. He pulled apart the rest of the
bones and removed the tattered clothing.
“Toss ‘em in the back?” Andre asked, even though
he knew the drill.
“Yeah, then we’ll split the loot.”
Philippe and Andre pulled apart the big bones,
and tossed the partially dismantled skeletons behind the neatly stacked rows of
skulls.
The bones of Yvette and Antoine, now forever
rest with the millions of bones in the Catacombs beneath Paris.
