“So.” Cady cleared her throat and looked away from those sherry-colored eyes. “What was Hubert saying about the wind making Andres crazy?”
“Haven’t you noticed how windy it is here? Provence claims thirty-two different winds, coming from all directions. Each of them has a different name and a distinct character. But the mistral is master of them all—in fact, in the Provençal languagemistralmeans ‘masterly.’”
“I didn’t know there was a Provençal language.”
He nodded. “It’s mostly died out at this point, but a few of the old people still know it. They say the mistral can blow the tail off a donkey or the horns off a bull.”
Cady smiled and finished her coffee.
“When the mistral howls,” Jean-Paul continued, “pets misbehave,and people complain that the roar of the wind gives them headaches and robs them of sleep. Also, supposedly it drives people mad:c’est le vent qui rend fou.”
“I have noticed the wind,” she said. “I just never thought of giving a wind a name, much less a character. So the mistral is the bane of the Provençal existence?”
“Funny you should ask. There’s a story my grandmother used to tell me about it.”
“Well, don’t hold back. I’m here to soak up the local culture, after all.”
“Seems people got so sick of the mistral that they found out where it originated, way up in the mountains, and a group of brave young men made a very strong door of thick wood, reinforced with iron beams. They took this up to the crevice in the rocks where the mistral originates, hammered it into the mountain rock, and managed to shut the wind in.”
“That sounds like quite the door,” said Cady.
“Never underestimate a determined Provençal man.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Cady licked some coffee from her lip and noticed Jean-Paul’s eyes following the movement of her tongue. He cleared his throat and continued with his story.
“At first, everyone rejoiced at the stillness of the air. But after a while the humidity led to marshy conditions, and mildew destroyed all the crops. Insects multiplied, and everyone was miserable. So the young men went back up to the mountain to let the wind back out. There’s something about negotiating with the mistral, making certain demands of it before agreeing to let it out, and the wind reneging on the deal, but I forget the details. The point is that now it blows away the clouds, which is what gives the area so much sunshine, dries out the grape leaves so they don’t mildew, and cleans out the marshes.”
She gave him a grudging nod. “Okay, that’s a pretty good story.”
“The old people draw it out with a lot of details and some shoutingback and forth between the wind and the men,” he said. “Add a glass or two of wine, it can go on all night.”
“I’ll bet it can,” Cady said, and they shared a laugh.
“Anyway, I’m glad to see you.”
“Me, too. I have two very exciting things to tell you. First, Fabrice gave me permission to develop the film I found in the basement. Any suggestions?”
“I have a friend who’s an amateur photographer, with his own darkroom.”
“Would this be a tile man named Guido?”
“I see you’re really figuring out this town. You don’t need me at all.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. And now, for thebignews: Fabrice showed me the carousel!”
Jean-Paul blinked. “He did?”
“I thought you’d be excited.”
“I am. Of course. That’s great news. Is anything still there? Is it intact?”
“It’s in terrible condition, and it looks like several of the animals are missing. But I spoke with Toinon and Élodie, and they gave me some supplies and advice about restoration.”
“Toinon and Élodie, too? You really are making yourself at home here in our fair town. So Fabrice is going to let you restore it?”
“I’m no professional, obviously, but he says he won’t let me call anyone else in. For now I’m it. I can at least clean things up a bit—Johnny showed up to work, and he’s been helping as well. I wanted to ask you something else, too: It turns out Toinon has one of the animals from the carousel. I never thought to ask before, but does anyone else in your family have one, or do you know of anyone who might? Fabrice seems sure that family members looted things from the château.”
