Gautier: A Destiny

The mist curled around her feet as Marie stared at the man sitting casually in the wing back chair in her secret attic room. His black, shoulder length hair was tousled slightly and streaked with just the tiniest bit of silver at his temples. Beautiful green eyes were framed in long black lashes, and beneath his aquiline nose, his dark mustache was impeccably groomed. A gold loop earring sparkled from his earlobe. Marie noted his handsome face was void of malice of any kind. Was this the man she had read about in her great-great grandmother’s journal? 

“Gautier?”

“Oui, it is me, Marie.”

“You…you know who I am?” she asked breathlessly.

“Of course. I have waited for you for a very long time.”

“I don’t understand.” She knew she was dreaming, but it seemed so real. “You are a…ghost?"

“I am."

"Why are you here?”

"This is a long story, chérie. Are you certain you are up to it?” He asked with concern as he watched her white knuckled hands clutch at the skirt of her nightgown.

She didn’t miss his regard and sheepishly unclenched her hands then primly folded them in her lap. This is how dreams work. No need for rationality or logic. 

She watched the man stand and pace the floor with his hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed in a full white shirt that was open at the neck and black breeches tucked into tall, black leather boots. A silk sash hung at his waist. 

 He brought his index finger up to rub at his mustache in thought. “Where to begin?” He met Marie’s wide, expectant eyes. “How will I explain all this to you?”

 “Perhaps you can begin with how you happened to get this wondrous reprieve. Why are you able to appear and speak to me?”

Gautier shrugged his shoulders with wonder in his voice. “Truly chérie, I do not know all the answers.”

He saw the skepticism in her eyes, and he sighed. “I can show you what I know — what I experienced after I was killed.”

The hair on her arms rose. “How?”

“I can move my energy into you, and you will experience what I experienced.”

“You will do what? Will it hurt?”

“Non, of course not! I would never do anything to hurt you. I believe it is comparable to getting gooseflesh.”

She looked at him skeptically.

Gautier held his hands out. “You will try so you can understand? I do not like you looking as if you are being deceived. I am, after all, an honorable ghost.”

What if what he was saying were true? She met his wounded verdant eyes and found herself consenting.     

Gautier smiled. Her quest for knowledge and enlightenment had won over fear. That was why he knew that she was the one. 

  He circled behind her where she sat, then rested one hand on her shoulder and felt her stiffen. “Do not be afraid, chérie.”  

 When he felt the tension drain from her body, he slowly shimmered and lowered himself into her sitting position, as if she was absorbing a shadow.

She gasped when the energy entered her, then sighed in delight. It was as if solid light was fluttering within her and she watched the pictures in her mind begin to unfold.

Gautier was lying on the deck of a ship where he had been struck down by a pirate’s sword. Then the perspective shifted, and it was as if she were looking through his eyes. She stared up at the towering masts outlined against the blue, cloudless sky. I do not want to die. I left so much undone, so much unsaid. The hot, searing pain in her body was unbearable until the earthly tether dissolved, and she was floating upward. Such blissful freedom, such radiating lightness, and the pain was gone. It was truly euphoric. She felt as if she were being swept into a whirlpool of pure light and happiness. Then, she was standing in an exquisite garden, unlike anything she had ever seen. The pure clarity and vibrant color! It almost hurt her eyes to see such beauty. She lifted her nose to the warm, flower-scented breeze. Her gaze finally came to rest on a tall, beautiful being of perfect form and light, serenely standing before her. His words were like the lightest music even though his mouth never moved. He smiled gently, and it wrapped around her heart with such warmth and love that tears filled her eyes. 

“You will have your judgment day, Gautier. However, before that time, you will return to Earth and relive injustices; the ones you experienced and the ones you caused along your life’s journey. You will guide those who need to stay on their given paths. Gautier, it will be your penance. Hopefully you will learn grace, kindness, and humility so you might come back and rest in perfect peace with your loved ones.”

  The ghost’s energy drifted out of Marie’s silhouette, and she shivered. Tears filled her eyes, and her emotions undulated wildly. After the incredible light and warmth she had just experienced, she now felt cold and empty.

 Gautier knelt before her and gently took her hands. “The emptiness will fade as you get used to your Earthly surroundings again.”

Marie nodded and took in a tremulous breath of air.

“And so, I will tell you the rest of the story. But first, I need you to know Gautier is for real.”

“Well, as real as a ghost can be,” Marie murmured, still overwhelmed.

Gautier chuckled, then gently squeezed her hands. “You are indeed one of a kind.”

“Before you begin, Gautier,” she interjected before the ghost could begin his dissertation. “Why me? Why did you choose me and this time to reveal yourself?”

“You are the one that I knew would believe me. You are the one with an inquisitive enough mind to think, what if? If I had sprung this on any other women of your family line…ah well, their sensibilities were much too delicate, and their minds would never have been able to absorb the possibility.”

Marie simply nodded.

“So, I was sent back. It couldn’t be in my human form, since my body was gone. I was instructed that I am not to interfere with the human lives around me, except to guide them when needed. And I can only guide and protect those lives that would intertwine with my unfinished business here on Earth. I am only here to see that my treasure is recovered, and my home is in the right hands. I did not know how it was to be accomplished, or by whom. I watched and waited as each generation passed by, without a clue as to who would fulfill my dream. Then, like any puzzle, the pieces began to fit into place. You, Marie, are the last piece which completes my picture. Now, mon ami, it is time to wake up.”

Marie’s eyebrows shot up. She forgot it was only a dream, and a sudden melancholy enveloped her. “Will I see you again?” she asked sadly.

“Most assuredly. We have a lot of work to do.”

***

After a hasty breakfast, Marie locked her bedroom door and opened the secret panel. She carried the flickering oil lamp into the narrow stairwell, and the soft light illuminated the worn, wooden treads as she ascended into the hidden room.

Marie started when she saw the large black cat lying on the chair, lazily swishing his tail.

“How did you get up here, Gautier?” She did a quick mental calculation and hoped she hadn’t locked him up here. No, she had seen the cat since then.

She moved to the pile of parchments, pulled one of the rolls from the twine that encircled a stack, and settled on the floor near the chair. She tried to distinguish what appeared to be various landmasses, but they too seemed a puzzle. Their shapes didn’t seem to be any area she could recall from her geography classes — leaving them undistinguishable to her untrained eye.

“I really should have paid more attention during my school lessons. This is bloody Greek to me.”

“Ah, you quote Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.”

Marie’s head snapped up in shock. Her heart beat hard in her ears and her mouth went dry.

“Who…who…?” She whirled around, taking on the look of a cornered animal. She stared at the black-haired pirate lounging in the wingback chair. She knew she wasn’t dreaming now! She was in a dead panic, but her body flatly refused to respond. 

“How…how did you get up here? Who are you? You will leave at once!” she choked out in a near frenzied voice as she tried to calculate a way out of the cramped attic.

 He smiled kindly — a familiar smile. 

“Mademoiselle Marie, I have known you for some time now. But alas, you do not know me? How could you not know me? I am Gautier. We met in a dream, did we not?”

Her eyes widened even further, and her heart threatened to burst with the split-second awe of possibility. “G-Gautier?” Her eyes darted to the cat of the same name, now apparently sleeping just inches from her.

“Who are you?’ she demanded again. “Is this some sort of joke? Who put you up to this?” As her fear began to subside, her complexion went from pale to flush.

The familiar stranger sat quietly, watching her with a worried expression on his face. She quickly moved to her feet and faced him like nervous prey that had been snared.

“I do not think this is the least bit amusing, sir. I want some answers! Starting with, who let you into this house? How did you get in my room? I locked it behind me.”

He rested his chin on his poised fingers. “I will tell you again, Marie. I am Gautier Jean-Baptiste Lafayette, owner of this room, and once owner of this house.” He then added with a rakish grin, “at your service.” He stood and gave her a most elegant, sweeping bow.

She shook her head to wake from the dream she was sure she was having. 

“You are not dreaming this time,” he said earnestly.

She studied him with a forced logical perspective after she realized she wasn’t going to awaken. “This cannot be,” she breathed, then added, “How did you get in here?”

“This is my room, Marie,” he said gently as if talking to a very frightened child. He stretched out his hand to sweep over the area around them, “and those are my maps.”

“I do not believe this. You cannot be Gautier.”

“And yet, I am Gautier.”

She was afraid she might faint at any moment, so instead she collapsed her wobbly legs and settled herself back on the floor.

“Do not be afraid, Marie. I have waited for you for a very long time.” He sat in the chair again.

“I remember you telling me that in my dream last night,” she said in a quavering voice.

“Indeed. I truly did not think it would go this badly.” He added with a deep sigh of resignation, “It went much smoother in our dream.”

Her panicked eyes settle on him as she crossed her arms defensively in front of her.

“You do not believe me? Ah, Marie, I am deeply hurt.” His voice held a genuinely wounded air. “Why would I lie about a thing like this? To what end? How did I know about the dream?”

She stared fiercely at him from her vulnerable position on the floor.  

With a shrug of his shoulders, he stood. “Very well then, I will have to show you I am neither a liar, nor a charlatan.” He moved to where the large black cat lay motionless on the carpet near the chair. The figure of the pirate began to glow, then slowly melt down into the motionless cat — like a column of shimmering smoke.

Marie felt faint, despite forcing slow, deep breaths into her lungs. But she stayed present and stared at the familiar feline as he leaped up on the desk and flicked his tail.

 “Gautier?” she whispered hoarsely.

He cocked his ebony head and meowed. Then, slowly, the metamorphosis began all over again. The cat lay on its side like an empty puppet and the ghost moved opposite Marie. He sat back on the wingback chair with his booted feet crossed casually before him.

  “Is the cat...dead?” Trepidation dripped from her voice.

  “Non, of course not. I would not walk around in a corpse. That is just distasteful.”

 Marie’s eyebrows shot up at this.

“Let us just say, I have left enough life force behind to keep le chat’s little body functioning. I leave him in a sleep state.”

“This is all too much. I am going bloody mad!”

He shook his head in dismay. “Non, mon cher, you are perfectly sane. Please let me explain.”

“I doubt it will help me comprehend what is happening to me,” she fretted. “Are you certain I am not dreaming all of this?”

“I am certain, Marie. I did come to you in your dream to help make this a bit easier for you, but I can see it did not help much.”

 “You need me to help you recover your treasure,” she started when the dream began to filter back to her. “You were killed on your ship and came back.”

 He nodded sagely. She took a ragged breath and the feeling of being on the other side with him foggily flowed through her. It wasn’t as intense and wondrous as it was in the dream, but her panic subsided. 

“Tell me how you are here,” she whispered.

Gautier clasped his hands casually over his chest, satisfied that she was going to be fine, and began his story once again.

“After I was given the rules of my return, the next thing I knew, I was standing on the quay, not far from where my old ship bobbed in the harbor. I felt very strange. I was looking out of different eyes, and I was smaller. It took some time to get used to using all fours, but it wasn’t long before I realized I had been sent back as un chat.”

“So, you live as a cat?”

“Let us say I am temporarily using the cat’s body. When you see me as le chat, there is real form, and my energy incorporates the body. But, when you see me now as a man, it is simply as I wish you to see me. You can feel my touch when I transfer my energy to you and convince that part of your brain that it is so.” 

He spoke as if it was the simplest concept of all time.

“Can you disappear completely?”

“Non. I was given one form or the other. I am either le chat or as you see me now. The energy can shimmer and lighten, but it cannot simply be dispersed into nothingness. When my task here on earth is complete, my energy or life force will be taken to the other side.”

She raised a finely arched brow. “I can’t sit here and say this isn’t happening, because it obviously is. And I can’t say it is impossible, because you are here.” She felt better when her logic kicked in.

Gautier lifted his hands, palms up as if to say, there you have it.

“Everyone can see you as a cat, but only those you wish can see you as…as…”

“My handsome self!” he cut in with a grin. “I can transform into this image to make it easier to communicate. It would be rather absurd to talk seriously to le chat, non?”

“I would say so, although as you know I talk to the cat quite often.” 

He laughed easily. “Touché.”

Ghost or not, he was indeed charming. Somehow, he had touched a warm cord in her logical heart, and she shook her head. “This isn’t easy for me, you know.”

“Oui, I do.” 

“So, what was the other reason you thought I am the one to help you?” Marie asked.

“Ah, now le coup de grâce. Come.” He stood and walked to a large, flat wooden crate and smiled triumphantly when he bid her to lift the lid.

 “You will have to pull it out. I can only move the lightest and smallest of things. It is very frustrating.” 

He gestured to the crate, and she stood and lifted a velvet-covered frame from its depths.

She pulled the shroud away and sucked in her breath.

“It’s me,” she whispered and gazed at the familiar eyes staring back at her from the canvas.

“Ah, contraire, mon cher, this is my wife, Helene."

“Helene,” she breathed in awe, staring at the painting in front of her.

The woman was sitting on a blanket beneath a flowering pink dogwood. Her auburn hair was upswept from her face and twisted into cascading curls down her white shoulders. Her violet-blue eyes looked out over a serene pond.

“That is your great-great grand mère. Do you see now, Marie? It is you I have waited for.”

She dragged her eyes away from the painting and met Gautier’s gaze.

 “Just because I resemble her….”

 He cut her off. “Non! Not only do you look like her, but you also have her spirit and intellect. You will be the one to fulfill my life’s journey, and I will finally rest. I am tired, le miel.” His eyes took on a wistful look. “She patiently waits for me.”

  “Very well, Monsieur Gautier, I will accept all of this, and I will try to help you. After all, this must be my destiny as well, no matter how strange it is.”

   The old ghost’s eyes softened.