Page 41 - NyghtVision Magazine Volume 3 #2

to let the moment be. No. I’d never done any of I’d briefly woken around 7:30 AM that morn-
these things. Each day of my life was no more ing, long enough to pull the comforter up, turn
than something to “get through,” and so that’s over, and go back to sleep. When next I awak-
what I did. Until the October of 2002 that is, ened, it was almost 10:30 AM. JD had appar-
when my life nearly killed me. ently been up for some time and, for reasons I
So here I sit, with only two days left in Paris. can’t quite understand, had decided to let me
Saddened because I don’t know how I can ex- sleep in. I showered, and we gathered our gear.
perience all the things I wish, given the short Père Lachaise Cemetery is located on the other
time that remains. So many evenings of the side of Paris—almost 45° northeast of where
days to savour, yet so few days are left. we were staying. Several Metro maps later, we
“Yo,” said JD. had charted a path to the cemetery.
“What is it?” “I’m running on empty. I’m going to need
“You ready?” to eat soon,” JD told me. I pondered the com-
“What? I’ve been waiting for you.” ment momentarily, but decided to push on.
The next time he mentions it, I take him more
fF seriously. “C’mon man, I’m getting light head-
ed,” he pleaded. I now knew that food was nec-
The cement beneath my feet suddenly gave essary. I found a small shop and we went in.
way. My body instinctively shifted weight to Bread and pastry. What every army needs.
my right foot. Poised on a narrow ribbon of We headed off towards a few park bench-
polished marble, my right foot remained rig- es. JD—in a way that is quite unlike him—sat
id while my left leg hung—suspended over the down on a bench that was very dirty. I guess he
open earth. The camera remained cradled in was that hungry. Dressed in black cargo pants
the tripod of my arms. Sh-click. Its shutter (as I always am), I held out for a bench that
opened and closed. I didn’t dare move. was cleaner. The bread was good, quite good.
“JD. JD...” We finished our meal quickly. A few minutes
“Yeah, man,” he said from somewhere later, we entered at the cemetery.
behind me.
“Be careful where you step.” fF
Still balancing on one foot, I looked down
into the now-open grave beneath me and May evenings in Paris are long. JD and I
pressed the shutter again. The stench of mil- made our way across Trocadero Plaza towards
dew and rotted wood rose up from the dark- the best view of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It’d
ness. become clear earlier, while having coffee and
“That was strange,” I said to JD as I jumped a sandwich with our friend Jean, that we were
down onto the solid ground of the path. frayed and worn. After we parted with Jean,
“What was strange?” he asked. JD and I sat in a small park drinking water
“Well, I had just walked across the length and trying to decide what we would do next. I
of that cement and it seemed fine, certainly wanted to go back to the apartment. JD want-
strong enough to hold me. Then it just cracked ed to see the Tower at sunset. It would be our
open.” last chance. So, of course, we went down to the
“Hmm,” JD said. “Gotta be careful.” Metro and were on our way to see the sun set.
“Yeah,” I agreed. Yet a moment later, I was We settled ourselves on the lawn facing the
straddling another thin ribbon of marble, in Tower. There were people everywhere—more
pursuit of another photograph. than I had ever seen there before. Had we not

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