I was planning to participate in Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge today. Then, as I was organizing the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge page, I was inspired by the photo below. So, I ended up with a twofer. Cee’s CFFC challenge this week is “Crooked or Squiggly.”
“This week our topic is celebrating Crooked or Squiggly. Basically, anything but straight lines. Just make sure the squiggle or crooked part is clearly visible in your photo. Have fun.”
Most of the photos in today’s gallery are there for CFFC. Now for the story.
Lost Lens
Jean-Léon paced the floor of the reception area to the first-class dining room as if he were part of the waitstaff. Unexperienced in the art of meaningless small talk and unprepared for the stress of meeting people, he would rather have found a way to eat in his cabin. He was certain that Mr. Blanchet would feel perfectly at home in this crowd. He’d probably be chatting in one of the groups of large leather chairs along the windows.
“Would you care for a cocktail, sir? Whiskey perhaps, or a glass of wine?”
Léon was startled by the request. Trying to look the part, and imaging that ordering from a random steward would be easier than ordering at the dinner table, he gathered himself and nodded. “Whiskey will be fine. Thank you.”
Léon tried to move closer to the dining room door. He was hoping to see place cards. Assigned seating would be so much better than having choose a table. He didn’t see any. Perhaps he would be able to get in quickly and sit at an empty table. The steward tapped his shoulder from behind. “Your whiskey, sir.”
Léon, overcome with dread, sighed, and asked, “do I pay you? Should I tip you? I’m sorry. I’ve never traveled by boat before.”
The steward smiled. “First class tickets include select drinks before and during dinner. There is a cash bar after dinner if you want brandy or cigars. Our gratuity is also included in the price of your ticket. Enjoy your meal, and your time aboard our ship, sir.”
He missed whatever signal had been given but noticed the crowd moving toward the doors. He fell in line behind a couple. He thought briefly about his wife, but that pleasant thought was quickly pushed aside by the panic setting in as he realized he was the only single person in the group he could see. He moved with the people as if on a crowded street.
Once inside, he was awestruck. The dining room spanned the entire width of the ship. The tables near the windows were filling fast. Instinctively, he moved toward the center of the room.
“Would you care to join us young man?” The voice came from a table behind him. He turned awkwardly to the older couple occupying a table for four. Léon smiled and sat.
The man introduced himself. “Charles Baumann. This is my wife, Helen. You looked like you’re by yourself. I frequently travel alone, and I know how stressful that can be. Did you board in Cherbourg? I don’t recall seeing you last night.”
Shaking the man’s extended hand, he greeted the couple. “Jean-Léon Endres. Thank you for inviting me to join you. I did come on board in Cherbourg and I skipped dinner last night, as I was trying to get used to being on a boat.”
“You look somewhat uncomfortable, Jean. Do you go by Jean?”
He smiled at Helen. “I prefer Léon, ma’am, and I am quite uncomfortable. This is a new and unexpected experience for me.”
“Please, call me Helen. Ma’am sounds stodgier than I hope to be considered. If I may ask, you say the trip is unexpected. Did you not buy the ticket?”
“No, M… Helen. My employer, Mr. George Blanchet was supposed to be making this trip…”
“George Blanchet, of the Blanchet Glass Works?” Charles interrupted.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
Charles nodded. “I do. I have met him at several business functions in London and once in Paris. Why did he decide not to travel?”
Léon took a sip of his whiskey. Now he was concerned that his fiddly behavior would be reported back to his boss. “He fell.” Léon paused to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry, he fell down an iron staircase in the plant. The workers either didn’t notice or were unable to leave their station. I picked him up, bandaged a gash on his head that was bleeding terribly, and helped him to the infirmary. The doctor on staff had me take him to a hospital. They released him, but he was in a lot of pain when I finally got him home. He couldn’t make the trip, so he gave me his ticket and assigned me to the task in America.”
“And what task would that be? I’m sorry to be so inquisitive.”
“Oh, that’s OK. Mr. Blanchet was to meet with the engineers who are redesigning a lighthouse on Lake Michigan. The Saint Joseph Light. I am an engineer, so he figured I could step in for him, since I ‘speak the same gibberish,’ as he put it.”
Helen sipped her wine and tried to steer the conversation away from the weariness of her husband’s inquiry. “What does your company have to do with the lighthouse?”
Charles answered his wife, first. “I’m sure they’re building the lens, dear.”
Léon instantly became more comfortable at that question. “Exactly. We will build the Fresnel Lens for the lamp. The lighthouse was originally constructed with a stationary red light. They are upgrading to a moving lamp that will be visible for eight miles.”
“Isn’t it odd to visit the site? I would think the dimensions and specifications could be communicated without the expense of an in-person visit, especially, no offense, a first-class passage.”
Léon wanted to agree, but he didn’t think that would reflect well on his boss. “Since it’s a replacement, the lens will have to be brought up through the structure. I suppose that’s why Mr. Blanchet wanted someone to be on-site.”
Charles laughed. “Well, don’t tell him I said so, but I’m sure he used that as an excuse to get away on holiday. My guess is you will actually study the situation while he would have merely pocketed the on-site engineer’s report.”
Léon squirmed a bit in his seat. “I will be able to go into more details of the arrangements, but Mr. Blanchet is familiar with the installation process.”
Helen gave her husband a stern look. “Dear, you’re putting Jean-Léon in an awkward position. He certainly isn’t going to agree that his employer was hoping to be off on a lark.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry if I put you on the spot.”
“It’s quite alright, but I am mindful of my position, and this is a fantastic opportunity for me.” Léon looked around gaping as a small child would. “Despite my obvious discomfort.”
A waiter arrived at the table. He set a large platter of fruit and bread in the center and asked if anyone wanted anything else to drink.
Charles answered for the table. “The young man and I will have another whiskey. My wife would like a glass of Moselle…”
“Oh dear, that’s too sweet before dinner.”
Charles corrected himself. “A glass of dry Riesling.”
Léon wasn’t much of a drinker. He became worried at the thought of two whiskeys on an empty stomach. He wanted to eat some of the fruit, and some of the bread, but he didn’t want to go first or look as hungry as he was. He decided to wait until Helen or Charles took some food. Charles grabbed for some grapes when Helen softly put her hand on his. She picked up the grape scissors and cut a bunch loose for him.
“Would you care for a bunch, Léon?”
“Yes, please.” He was trying to act more sophisticated than he was, but he didn’t want to embarrass Charles, not that he thought that was possible. “I would never have known to use the scissors, and I have to say, I don’t know what to do with most of this silverware.”
Helen smiled. “They’re serving a ten-course meal, you will end up using most of that. Just start at the outside and work your way in. Follow my lead if you like.”
“Thank you. My wife and I don’t eat out often. I know it’s becoming more popular, but we have two young children, and… I’m sorry, as my wife would say, you didn’t ask for my life story.”
Giggling, Helen looked at Charles as if it was a common affliction.
Charles smiled. “My wife is trying to let you know that I, too, usually offer a longer answer than what is necessary. It’s a shame George was traveling alone; your wife would probably have enjoyed this sailing.”
“Why would George be traveling alone, dear. It’s such a lavish ship, I would think he would have planned to bring his wife along.”
“You would, but I’ve met Suzanne. He paused and looked at Léon. “Mrs. Blanchet, and she’s quite the shrew. I’m sure traveling alone is a bit of pleasure for George.”
Léon took a bite of bread and followed that with a generous sip of whiskey. He studied the small dinner plate as he set the slice of bread down.
Helen noticed his interest. “Is something wrong with the plate? Is it chipped? They’ll bring you a new one if it’s chipped or dirty.”
Léon shook his head as if coming out of a daydream. “No, no, the plate is fine. I am simply amazed that the flag logo is on every piece of china and silverware. It’s really remarkable.”
Helen smiled. “That’s the White Star swallow-tailed burgee. They are quite proud of that logo.”
Charles chuckled as he added. “You should nick one of the spoons as a souvenir.”
Helen smacked his shoulder lightly. “Don’t listen to him. I’m sure there are items in your stateroom that they mean for you to take home.”
“Stationery, and a pen or pencil. You’ll use them or lose them in a few months.” Charles picked up a small spoon and pretended to put it in his breast pocket. “Easy enough to do, my boy. You’ll stir your tea with a spoon from Titanic’s maiden voyage for the rest of your life.”
No Facilities 
Add your thoughts or join the discussion. One relevant link is OK, more require moderation.