He took the old womans arm
it almost physically harmed him simply holding it
its very thinnessits weight and feel of Infirmity
how the wind hadnt broken her up and blown her away like fallen leaves startled him
taking her by the wrist with
one hand
the other cradling
her elbow
he
delicately sought to impart to her his fast assurance and quiet aid
his willingness to solicit and cater
to her evident independence
had
he taken her arm too abruptly
too firmly
she
would have sensed as any antenna who has
learned by Living over scores and scores
and sores of years any secreted annoyance or hastening he might have
borne
instinctively
he knew those were the terms of helping her that
she would rather he go away
than
burden her
the museum they happened in the Legion of Honor was as elegant as she and as
stoic
a copy of Rodins bronze Thinker
sat in the paver courtyard without he perhaps was
either pondering or admiring the soft white
sunlight playing a childs game of hidenseek
gaily in the cool fog oozing from out
of the Bay
but the cold gnawed at her knobby
rheumatic joints
firing spindles of elastic
pain which insinuated themselves like Dalis softclocks and
peeled masks draped
to one side
Pain
her
one True Persistent and So-very-attentive companion stroked her small gray head
telling her -- Im here love
Im not going anywhere
she blanched
bit at her lips
her
eyes became glassy with tears
she mumbled
not incoherently
but in a language only the Suffering can hear
he thought she mumbled
he helped her pass through an
elaborate checkpoint and stood in the antechamber
where the Matisses were
exhibited
suddenly as best she could and in her own way she hurried
possessed by her intent
and urgency
to the south wall where five small paintings hung
the whole while mouthing marvelous marvelous
she craned her forward-tilted skull back nearly to press at the hump fixed between her
thin shoulders
and they must have astonished even Matisse when he had completed them more than
one hundred years earlier
La table au café Nature
morte – fruits, pot Sevres and the Assiette de fruits
they simply Vibrated
their unique stature and brilliant molten colours
she
drew up on her heels stiffening then her arm began twitching between his hands
he looked into her face and watched
its seams soften become
pliable supple
looking back into his eyes she
seemed to want to throw off his hands as
if they were
shackles worrying her
though she
didnt say a thing to him
just looked him in the face
her expression was evidence of
what he had felt through his hands
so he let go
-- Maam I
trust youll have a good afternoon Please
take care
she nodded her practised eyes answering for her
he
hadnt expected that
there as there never is was nothing in the day before he left home to
take in the
Impressionists exhibit that would have assumed anything this
improbable
he stopped short in the foyer
of the Matisse before leaving to take her in one last time
to relish this small bit of Life
she was standing erect unaided
her
posture was that of a younger woman
her cheeks flushed lips
blossomed
she seemed in full
possession of herself and being
and over her shoulder
not that anyone else might have noticed
the
three Matisses were flat duller
less vivacious
2326, Day-Between-Two-Ts, 9 7.
14
