A St. Malo Serenade

The sun set over the busy St. Malo street

allowing the shadows

of the dead time

to capture the memories of all who walked along the

cobbled pavements and to make the

 haze of

childhood recollection seem infertile and bitterly cold.

The group of English, the ragtag of German, the abundance of French

badly spoken questions, bitter rivalries without the understanding

or the compassion needed to be better than they were.

The shouts and hails from vendors, a bull whip on offer,

money parted his wallet, fawned over by

many, the look of horror on the rest and

confiscated, not by a keen eyed

Customs

Officer, under paid, undervalued and with starched shirts that

gleamed in pride but were as creased as his sense of justice,

but by the teacher, angry, incensed, moustache

twitching like some comical war-time General

handing out an ultimatum of peace in their time.

The retreating of the sun, the splash of continental colour

it gave to the rooftops high on the mounted isle

reflected the teen-age angst, the devilry, the humour

of the age. Oh how we laughed

at what now seems so innocent but then

the creeping into a bar and watching the locals

bemoan the appearance of yet another

school from abroad, invading

their space, their time, the shadows of the day

in which they drank to the winter.

I watched, we scrutinized

in grim fascination and wondering if

the heroes of the hour in these men

would ever be seen again.

The shouts from street vendors became louder as we ducked

Out of the door and into the cold

outside

keeping an eye out for the twitching moustache,

a pair of eyeballs on each corner as we slipped back into the crowd

as two entertainers tossed batons aglow with

a raging fire which for a moment

ate into the shadows lair, causing it to turn and run back and

forth, back and forth, back and

 forth

until a baton was dropped.

 The fire lingering for a moment or two on the cobbled streets.

A cheer rang out from the younger crowd,

Booming, loud, destructive, but we were just lads.

 Even the girls

joined in the mock applause, the sympathy of the gentler sex lost

as their independence had steadily grown from their week away

from home

We desperately counted out the Francs,

the small change

That was left between us, deciding on what to blow it on.

The option of hearing music from the crippled busker not even

mentioned. In the end the argument it caused made the moustache

look in our direction and the thought of a subdued trip

back to Cherbourg

gripped us enough to make us quiet and sullen.

I wondered what the French kids that we met

would have made of our small town

where the island we had was the one we made in our mind.

Where the nightlife meant not street jugglers and vendors calling out

to meet our rising excitement as if we were sailors on a day pass,

with a pocketful of shrapnel and a Queen’s Shilling

in which to sample the local lemonade,

but instead hoping for a day out in Oxford

a cycle ride that would stretch on and on through tiring

winding roads.

I have no doubt that their boredom

would have caused the finely combed and proper moustache to

droop in

 exasperation.

Ian D. Hall 2013.