The Spider's Web

The ballroom was empty; Vincent de Montaigne sat alone on his chair, his mind plunged in the distant past. The tables, covered with white cloth, were full of empty plates, glasses and bottles. The chairs had been left in disarray. A few napkins lay here and there on the floor. A coat, which lay on a chair behind Mr. de Montaigne, had most likely been forgotten by a guest.
The head waiter stood next to the main entrance, awaiting Mr. de Montaigne's departure. It was already very late at night, but the head waiter did not dare disturb the famous host of the evening. Just a few hours ago, the ballroom had been filled with lively, animated and prominent guests. Vincent de Montaigne had just celebrated his sixtieth birthday. The most highly respected personalities of the city had been present. The Mayor, John Hudson, joined by his elegant and charming wife, had been present for the entire celebration. Mrs. Hudson was the second most famous personality after Mr. de Montaigne.
The orchestra had been especially brought in from New York. Such a magnificent and splendid party had never been seen since the days of British royalty. The ladies had been elegant in their beautiful evening dresses. The night had been a very special occasion for the younger ladies, who had come from distant places just to be seen. The guests had been looking forward and prepared for a long time, in expectation of this desirable exposure.
The Mayor had not left the de Montaigne family for even a moment. He was proud to have such a magnificent festivity in his city; the presence of a host of such stature had been an honor for his community. Every guest had tried to make his way towards the de Montaigne's just to be noticed by one of the host's family or his entourage.
The guests had gossiped about the de Montaigne's; some appeared to be envious.
The main ballroom of the hotel had never witnessed such a brilliant party, replete with the richest and most influential families from all over the world. The brooding de Montaigne relived the entire evening in the now desolate and empty ballroom. He seemed to be in deep thought. Just a few hours earlier, however, he had appeared to be the most radiant and happy man on earth. No one could have imagined that this would be his final evening with his family and friends. His entire wealth no longer held any importance for the silent host.
At present, everything hung by a thread. Mr. de Montaigne's future would be determined by a decision he was soon to reach. During the birthday ceremony, which he celebrated with the Mayor and his family, Mr. de Montaigne received a message, written on a small piece of paper, which he read avidly. Mr. de Montaigne continued hosting his party gracefully, as though nothing had happened to him. However, the message contained a few words upon which his entire life was now dependent.
Mr. de Montaigne had put the piece of paper in his pocket; no one had noticed any change in his facial expression; Mr. de Montaigne had continued to be the charming and gracious host.
Now that he was alone, he reread those few words again and again. “My God, how could it be possible that everything had been based on falsehood?”
He had to correct this. He did not know what to do with his family or with his wealth; it would be a painful decision. Yet he knew that he could not hesitate in making a prompt decision. His wife and his children had left with friends to continue the party at his magnificent residence. He knew that he could not divulge anything to anyone. His decision could shake the entire community. Thoughts about his children, his wife and his business weighed heavily on his conscience. No one would understand his reason.
He chose to act silently for he could not trust anyone. There was no one upon whom he could rely. All these thoughts crossed his mind, and suddenly he recalled all those terrible scenes that he had witnessed when he was only eight years old.

At that time, Vincent de Montaigne had lived on a small farm in Louisiana with his mother and father. One day while his mother was preparing the fire in the hearth, a spark accidently ignited the rug. The fire quickly spread to the entire house, burning it to the ground. Vincent's father had been unable to save his mother's life. She had perished in the flames which lit up the entire neighborhood. His father chose to save Vincent's life first. When he tried to go back into the flaming house to save his wife, it was Vincent who had held him back. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Don't go! Think of me!” His father was desperate. He would have preferred to die with Vincent's mother. In fact, it was Vincent who had saved his father's life as the flames were raging and it was already too late. Afterwards, he traveled with his father from town to town, from state to state, searching for a new existence. His father did not even want to see farms anymore. Vincent and his father became close companions. Their life became harder every day. His father sacrificed his entire life to raise Vincent. He took care of him as well as his mother would have done. Vincent never lacked anything except the love of his mother. He had everything he wanted from his father. However, no one could replace his beloved mother.
Vincent and his father left the American continent for Europe soon after the death of his mother and landed in France. There, they moved from place to place, from city to city, looking for a new home and a livelihood.
 

 Copyright Emile M. Tubiana 2009 all rights reserved for the entire story