8/30/11

DESTINY
By Peter Pogany


(In memory of a handsome Parisian couple)

-- My poor, dear, unhappy baby. I lied and cheated, trampled on your good name.

-- I could say, Holy Mother, awaken the remorse in the heart of my adulterous wife! But I’m not a hypocrite. I had affairs myself and underhanded dealings serious enough to be locked up, as you well know . . .

-- Stop! Enough! Don’t say any more, snapped Madeleine, combatant and teary.

The Thai bar girl, who understood French, averted her eyes but observed the couple in a side mirror as she continued to wipe the endless row of glasses in the hotel’s deserted cocktail lounge.

Irritated by the transparent curiosity, Gerard paid and the couple walked out into the night, down to the edge of the Indian Ocean.

Khao Lak, Thailand, December 20, 2004.

They strolled on the beach, stopping for an occasional kiss, until dawn began to whiten the skies; then returned to their bungalow to the right side of the main building.

No one knew why they had left Paris for the holidays, why “Indochine,” and most of all, why together. Their marriage was on the rocks, divorce was taken for granted by family, friends, and colleagues.

Gerard worked for a private hedge fund as a stock market analyst and Madeleine was the supervisor of archives at a well-known international banking giant. Although there had been no formal charges or accusations, many suspected they were accessories to insider trading by violating conflict of interest laws and rules of confidentiality.

Their offices were fairly close on the Right Bank and the two of them were frequently seen together at lunch time. That would be “normal” as the French like to say, but why the serious, clipped exchanges? What else if not time-sensitive information could have been the subject between an estranged husband and wife, given that they still lived together?

Thailand was the last and longest stop of their tour. They water-skied and learned to scuba dive around the neighboring Similan Islands; they enthusiastically embraced the spirit of bonding among fellow vacationers of all nationalities.

Was Rousseau right to believe that human nature is congenitally good but civilization makes us corrupt, greedy, deceptive, envious, and excessively rational? As soon as we return to nature in a bathing suit, with the need to look out for each other while playing in deep waters, we become engulfed by the magic of tribal oneness and feel ourselves again.

The “Parisian couple” was the talk of the resort.

Madeleine, tall and lanky, without being athletic, had pale blue, laughing eyes; her short brownish-blond hair was parted in the middle, smoothened back. No one had ever seen her without a heavily beaded necklace. Gerard reminded everyone of a younger version of the French movie star Alain Delon. They were in their late 20s or early 30s.

Eye-catching as they were, their notoriety had another reason -- scenes.

They simply could not keep their arguments and acid repartees out of the earshot of others; they were unable to hide that they had brought heavy-duty marital discord to paradise. Most hotel guests along the strip and many locals in the small, close-knit vacation town saw what was going on.

A middle-aged businessman from L.A. generated merriment when he remarked to a small crowd of guests observing Madeleine and Gerard from the terrace bar: “Looks like the marriage of Heaven and Hell without knowing which is which.”

It was both sad and funny to see them stagger on the beach, drunk. That happened once and the occasion proved to be the turning point. From then on, to everybody’s delight, the relationship began to mend, gradually turning into a wild romance.

On Christmas Eve, a Belgian tourist, sitting on a sand dune in the dark, witnessed the following memorable scene:

Madeleine kneels down before Gerard:

-- I will forever be faithful to you. I want to bear your children.
-- How many? – asks Gerard playfully.
-- Four, in five years.

Gerard gently lifts her to her feet and goes down on his knees:

-- Allow me to consecrate my life to you.

After a short pause she says:

-- I failed you before. Aren’t you afraid that I’ll fail you again?
-- My father always said “only those who are not afraid to lose have any chance to win.”
-- But will you love me even after four children when my breasts will dangle over my belly and my belly will flop against my thighs?

Laughter again and long silence. The listener discreetly moved away.

Christmas Day fell on Saturday and the couple joined other guests for a festive dinner in the hotel’s banquet room. A former minister from Ohio offered comforting words and blessings.

The sun was already high on Sunday, December 26, when Madeleine and Gerard heard strange, excited noises. They came out of their bungalow, sensing that something unusual was happening. Something unusual, indeed; the water was gone.

Hundreds were running toward inland, yelling to others to do the same, but many remained motionless, staring awe-struck at the fuzzy horizon and at strange fish convulsing on dry land or in miniature pools.

Astonished silence, punctuated by frightened bird cries.

Then the ocean came back, roaring like a vengeful ogre, 33-feet high, washing people away along with beach chairs and umbrellas.

The couple vanished, officially declared victims of the tsunami.

The memorial service in Paris attracted a huge crowd. The in-laws, reunited in their anguish, asked the eulogizing priest to underscore the happiness and harmony of Madeleine’s and Gerard’s marriage despite the occasional frictions their dynamic life style caused.

“Beyond lights and shadows, sunsets and dreams, Madeleine and Gerard are now walking hand in hand -- as they should -- in a luminous ocean of heavenly harmony,” the priest said.

Of course, things would have been different if they had left before Christmas. Gerard’s cell kept chirping -- his office asking him to return before the end of his leave. “Urgent developments, requiring immediate attention!” He didn’t even answer. They decided to quit their jobs and leave the “financial industry” altogether. They had come to regard it as both corrupt and corrupting.

Anyway, why bother now with things that cannot be changed?

Fate makes no mistakes.

People looking from the hotel’s rooftop with binoculars later reported that they saw the couple in a tight embrace as the wave approached. Gerard said something and Madeleine answered with a smile that went so well with her surfer necklace.

What could they have possibly told each other in a moment like that?

When the infallible prescience of demise, already void of fear, made it clear to them that everything in our brief, rushed lives except our destiny is a lie -- knowing that certain Gallic flair -- those words must have been:

Merci ma petite!
Merci monpti!


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As a career economics professional, Peter taught at the university level and worked in the international arena for many years.