CHAPTER 22

  OUR TRIP TO FRANCE

  I had been to France one summer when I was in college. One of my roommates during my undergraduate days was French, and his parents had a home north of Paris. Vincent Payette’s family had moved to New York during the war to avoid the turmoil in Europe. At the end of the war, his parents returned to France to discover their home had been ransacked and pillaged but was still standing. After graduate school and before either of us received our doctorates, Vincent, or Frenchie as he was known in college, was summoned by his father to return to France to “grow up”. His father had felt that his time in America had not made him the man they hoped he’d become. Instead, he was more free-spirited than they had ever imagined, and they insisted that he return home to settle himself. Besides the need to grow up was the need for his parents to conserve money. His father’s assets had dwindled, and the costs to refurbish the estate made it harder for them to support a son living overseas. His father felt that Vincent should start earning his own way, and France was where he would do it.

  Upon finding out his father was cutting him off financially, Frenchie asked me to return with him for that summer. I don’t think he wanted to let go of his connection to America. We spent much of our time in Paris. We ate, we drank, and we lived a life that I had never really experienced before or ever again. It is one of the best remembered times of my life. We were carefree, young, and na?ve.

  It was the middle of summer when Grandma and I arrived in Paris from Rome. It was Mimi’s first trip to Paris, and we set out to look for an apartment of our own very quickly. Since we were asked to leave Italy, we did not take most of the items we had accumulated in Rome with us due to the costs of shipping them. We only had what we could pack in our luggage. By this time, our funds had also begun to run low. Our journey from Italy to Paris was not expected. We needed to find a way for us to make money while we were there.

  Mimi and I couldn’t seem more different to the casual observer, but at our core was this passion within us for what we believed. We always enjoyed lively debates whenever we were together. Even when we no longer attended the same graduate school, we would send each other letters with answers and arguments to each other’s philosophies and ideas. We shared our own ideas, as well as a list of our pursuits.

  During our great college discussions, the subject of giants came up. My quest for information on giants began when I was an aide to an anthropology professor I was working for. I had read one of his students’ papers on giants in ancient cultures, and when I read it, something lit up in me. I never paid much attention to stories of giants, even the childhood stories of giants, before reading this student’s paper.

  Much like the letters Mimi and I sent back and forth, Frenchi and I put together a list of what we called factological pursuits that we shared. Factological because, as intellectual, trained scientists, beliefs in myths, legends, and lore were just fantastical, unrealized beliefs. Without physical, concrete evidence, these things did not exist. Together, we theorized and debated that these things must have had some physical basis. How realistically coincidental it was that during the same periods of history, so many cultures around the world fictionalized the same things all at once. Logically, the basis for these legends had to be based in some fact since so many of the same stories are told from culture to culture. Our list of factological items included giants, angels, demons, ghosts, trolls, ogres, unicorns, mermaids, and dragons. We enjoyed arguing cases for and against each. We loved tearing apart each other’s theories on each subject. Sometimes I would argue for one, and he would argue against. Then, the next time we would swap positions and argue again. When we weren’t studying for our classes, we would gather research on the subjects we found most interesting and design hypotheses on the likelihood of where such physical proof would exist on the earth.

  For me, as I focused obviously on giants. I went on and on with Frenchie about the giants over the years. He would even tell me stories his father told him about the legends of the giants in his native France. The more I learned, the more I was convinced these were not fictional creatures.

  When Grandma and I arrived in Paris, I knew I had to at least attempt to look up Frenchie. He would never forgive me otherwise. From our last letters, I knew he lived in Rouen, where he was a professor at the University there. I also remembered his parents’ home was between Saint Quentin and Douai in the French countryside. I knew he spent most of his summers traveling, but would stay at his parents in the small guest cottage on the estate. He never quite grew out of depending on his parents, no matter how hard his father tried.

  I did not have a telephone number for his parents’ home, so I phoned the university to see if I could get any information on Frenchie there. As it turned out, he was teaching an elective course in cryptozoology and a class in paleontology that summer. He had received his PhD in paleontology.

  I made plans to go to the university and surprise him at his office that afternoon. Mimi chose to stay in Paris. She was not the biggest fan of Frenchie. She didn’t say it, but I could tell. We hadn’t found an apartment yet, so we were staying at one of the hostels. It wasn’t the best option for us, but it was the cheapest. I knew she planned on looking for better housing options while I was gone.

  I made my way to Rouen by train. When I arrived, I walked the university grounds and found the building where I was told Dr. Payette’s office was. It was on the third floor and no more than a broom closet than an office. All the offices on this floor seemed extremely small. Americans tend to forget how small Europe, its rooms, furniture, and even cars are compared to those in the United States. I knocked on his office door, but there was no answer. I waited and knocked again. A woman passed by, and I asked if she knew Dr. Payette. My French wasn’t the best, but it was enough to get by.

  She said he was teaching in Amstar Hall. I asked her for directions and thanked her for her assistance.

  I arrived at Amstar Hall and could hear him very loudly from the outside corridor. As I came to the door and looked in, the hall was filled with about sixty young French students, which was quite impressive for a summer session. And there, Frenchie was in his prime - lecturing in French. Vincent was a year older than I was, but much shorter. When we were in college, he was also the only guy with graying hair. Here he was, a much older, much grayer guy with a goatee. He looked older than I expected. We always seem to think the people in our lives stay the same age as the last time we saw them. Reality usually hits us when we recognize our own age in the aging face of someone we have not seen in a while.

  I knew he was still single and had never married. He claimed to have never met the right girl. I knew he enjoyed playing the role of the young, hip, single, and smart professor, and having a wife did not fit into this famous picture. He was wearing a tweed jacket and no tie as he lectured to his class on a subject he was very passionate about – crypto-zoology.

  Cryptozoology is the unofficial study of unknown animals or mythological creatures like the unicorn, griffin, and dragons. At the time, it was a new study and not considered true science. It was for this likely reason that it was only an elective course. I assumed Frenchie must have carried some clout at the university for them to allow him the luxury of teaching such a class. The movement of cryptozoology was growing at the time. Since the discovery of actual giant squids, speculation has arisen that similar creatures like the unicorn, yeti, dragons, and even the Loch Ness Monster could also actually exist. Bernald Heuvelmans, the French scientist who just a few years earlier wrote the book On the Track of Unknown Animals, had inspired Frenchie. Heuvelmans would become known as the father of cryptozoology. This book had a profound effect on Vincent and the movement quickly became his passion.

  I had my giants, and he had his cryptozoology quest that eventually became about dragons. Our letters back and forth, including that fateful list of factiological goals, only intensified our searches. In our letters, we included our notes on our goals to discover the truth about each of our passions. Our pursuits only became stronger with the competition between the two of us to accomplish our goal before the other one could.

  Over the years, Frenchie continued to write me about the history of French mythology, the Celts, and the medieval kingdoms of France with its lore of dragons and giants. Ultimately, his letters were a way for him to try to encourage me to join him in France in our crusades. Instead, I met and married Mimi, and we began teaching at the same university.

  I walked into the hall where Frenchie was teaching and found a seat toward the back. Right in the middle of a thought, Frenchie noticed me. Before leaving for Greece, I had not taken the time to write him and tell him what was going on. The last he knew, we had been given the grant to search out Greece for the bones of ancient giants, but he was unaware of our final plans. I had not had the chance to write to him before we left. Then, after Greece, I could not think of what I would tell him. Frenchie and I were far too competitive to write to each other about our failures. Our letters were always filled with our achievements and perceived successes.

  Frenchie attempted to get back on his lecture as I waved him on to continue. Instead, I heard, “Jackie, don’t be shy. There is a seat right here, up in front.” After that, in French, he told his class that they were to be honored with such a presence as I. He described me as a historian in giant culture. He then proceeded to clap his hands and motion for me to come down to the front and sit. The class erupted in polite applause – more humoring their own professor than being impressed with my presence. Frenchie then went on to pronounce that I was the partner of Dr. Bayne, the Giantologist. At that point, the class seemed to warm up to me as they had heard of Dr. Bayne.

  “Jack, you care to speak about your discovery?” Vincent asked.

  “No, I am here to enjoy the lectures of a prized French tradition.” Frenchie and I had a comically elevated pseudo-appreciation for each other’s knowledge. We both knew I was smarter, but Frenchie was a more gifted lecturer. He convincingly conveyed messages to the masses more than I ever could.

  I proved to be too much of a distraction for him during his lecture. It had been years since we had seen each other. He looked at his watch and dismissed his class. Through the thunderous movement of the students stampeding out of the hall, Frenchie approached me with a warm smile. Here was my oldest and dearest friend.

  “Jack. What a surprise. My god, you look terrible,” he said with a smile, almost pleased. He reached out and hugged me. It was a longer hug than I would have expected. Our friendship was always more treasured by the distance over the years. These meetings were rare but more important because of them.

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  “And look at you – a beatnik Americanized professor in France. With all that gray hair, I would assume you must be near retirement. Oh no, that’s right, you are only a year older than I, and yet we still graduated that same year.”

  “Don’t give me that rubbish!” he said. “I look good compared to you.” He looked around and behind me. “And, I don’t seem to see your shadow, Mimi. Did she wise up and leave you for a much more polished academic?”

  “No, she’s in Paris shopping for an apartment there.”

  He laughed. “You? Living in Paris? Now, I know you’re kidding. Besides, I would have figured you to be in Rome right now with Bayne.”

  I was now the one surprised, “Bayne is in Rome?”

  Frenchie seemed shocked that I did not know that.

  “Yes. It is in some of the papers. Bayne is in Rome searching for Sallust’s Gardens.”

  “What!” I could not believe it. “How is this possible? I just left Rome, or I should say I was tossed out of Rome.”

  Frenchie laughed. He was both pleased and surprised. “I am sure of it. I have the paper here in my briefcase on the desk.” He went back to the desk on the center platform in the hall. I followed him. I could not believe what I was hearing. He dug into his briefcase.

  “Here it is. It is from yesterday.”

  It was an English newspaper, and the headline for the article was:

  GIANTOLOGIST IN ROME TO SEARCH GIANT REMAINS.

  There was also a picture of Bayne standing next to Rome’s archeology director and the U.S. Ambassador. There beside him, to my even bigger surprise, was Gianni. I didn’t believe it. Gianni must have contacted Bayne after I left Italy. Then Bayne, not wasting a second, went straight to Rome to pick up where I had left off. And now, he had the permission of the Italian government and the U.S. Embassy to continue the search for the mausoleum at Sallust’s Gardens. I scanned the article. He and his team were given access to the U.S. Embassy site and would search the passageways under Rome and gather clues for where the mausoleum might be.

  My heart sank. I knew Bayne, much like Frenchie, was a much more polished speaker than I was. Obviously, Bayne made a favorable impression on the Italian government and the United States Ambassador

  “Jack, what is the matter? You look sick.” Frenchie asked me. I was. I felt like all my hard work and all I had tried to accomplish seemed more in vain now than ever before. Watching someone else achieve what I had always hoped for and set out to do was heartbreaking. The jealousy inside me raged. What could I do? I had no control over this course of events. I hoped more than anyone that Bayne would not find a thing in Rome. Although I became more certain of the fact that he would succeed. Certainly, with the wide range of resources now at his disposal and with his great luck, he would succeed.

  Plus, Gianni was there to accompany him, and the work we did would now benefit Bayne. Everything I knew about Sallust’s Garden I had shared with Gianni, and now he was with Bayne sharing that same information. It would be my own forethoughts they would use and, of course, Bayne’s gift for persuasion, that would get the Italian and American governments behind him. After all, this was supposed to be my quest.

  “Jack, what happened?” Frenchie prodded. I did not answer. I continued to read the article over and over again.

  “Here, let’s go get some coffee and talk,” he said. I agreed and followed him without saying a word. I couldn’t speak.

  We walked over to the faculty lounge, and he grabbed us some coffee. We then sat at a table near a large window, which looked out to a vast courtyard. We talked. I told him all about what had happened in Greece and the men who had died. About how Bayne took off with the bone and, against my wishes, publicly claimed that it was from a giant when, in fact, we could not prove it. I then went on about Rome and what had happened there. About who Gianni was and how he was now pictured next to Bayne in the newspaper. That Mimi and I had been forced out of Italy and that this was how we came to France. It was obvious that I was feeling dejected by this news.

  “But Jack, here you are in France with me. No worries.” He seemed pleased and excited. “This is fate, my friend. You see, I have good news. I had tried to phone you, but you had already left for Greece. I made a purchase this summer. Some land out past my parents’ estate with some interesting history.”

  I couldn’t understand what his excitement over his new purchase meant for me. Frenchie reminded me about how the northern French countryside was rich in its history of dragon lore. The farmland he purchased, with the help of his parents, was land he believed to be part of a dark ages kingdom where dragons were said to be revered. It was a kingdom that bordered northern France, Belgium, and Germany. He talked on and on about it. I barely listened. I was unable to focus on anything he was saying. I could not get the thoughts of Bayne out of my head. It was like an illness. Then I caught something that Frenchie said about dragons. I finally realized he was trying to tell me something specifically.

  “Jack, legend has it that this land was once part of the kingdom of the Celts that once ruled in Gaul. I am positive that I now own what once was the kingdom of giants.”

  Frechie’s quest for dragons always seemed more obtainable as the discovery of dinosaurs was quite common, and their similarity to dragons was obvious. He theorized that the ancient dragons likely would have survived the extinction of the dinosaurs by adapting their eating practices and habitats to the changing climates of the world. He was certain that there was evidence that dragons and humans coexisted somewhere in the world, much like there was proof that dinosaurs and humans coexisted at points in history.

  Frenchie focused much of his research and attention on the history of his own country, as it related to the folklore of dragons in the history of Gaul and the kingdoms of France, from ancient times to the Middle Ages. This was when dragon lore was at its heyday. Much the way I constructed a history of giants from ancient times, he did the same with dragons. We agreed on one thing: to understand a culture or species, you must understand its history.

  Through his own research, Frenchie would gain a better understanding of what and where dragons might have existed. Now, our quests intersected in the Middle Ages, and here we both were in France. He was certain that he had discovered part of the kingdom of giants, whose lands included some of northern France.

  “It is fate that brought you here, Jack. Perhaps the meaning of life we have both been looking for is waiting for us up on my farm. The end of our quests begins now. It is time for the two of us to seize this opportunity,” Frenchie said with such zest.”

  I couldn’t believe the turn the story was taking. I asked Grandpa Jack, “Was there really an entire kingdom of giants?”

  “I believe there was. It is widely believed that the Celtic giants who wandered and inhabited much of northern Europe settled in the west. These are the same Celts who in ancient history battled the Romans. The influence of the Celts can be seen all over Western Europe, including France, England, and Ireland.

  It was in the seventh century BC that the Romans reported the migration of the Celts into Gaul. Caesar, himself, made deals with the Celts and subdivided them into regions with chieftains at the helm. In English, the word Gaul refers to a Celtic inhabitant. In fact, ancient France was known in 50 BC as Celtica, as noted on maps dating back to that time. The Celtic giants of ancient times were still present during the Middle Ages and throughout medieval history. What is interesting in the history of France, as it relates to Gaul, is that one of its greatest leaders is said to be a giant himself.”

  Darby asked, “You can’t be talking about Napoleon, Grandpa. He was very short.”

  “Oh no,” he laughed. “This was long before him. No, I am talking about the one king considered the greatest of all the Middle Ages –Charlemagne. Charlemagne is described as “above the height of ordinary men, both giant in stature and in his mind”. Charlemagne was the King of the Franks, which included the land of Gaul and eventually became ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, which encompassed most of Western Europe. He is considered the greatest Christian ruler of the Middle Ages. He is said to be a direct descendant of Noah. In fact, much of the French monarchy is said to be descended from Noah.

  Noah’s descendants were known to have colonized all of Europe. It is said that the first King of Gaul was the son of Noah’s son, Japheth. One of Noah’s other sons, Tuyscon Gigas, who was said to be of giant stature, also had a son, whom legend would know as Hercules. It is Hercules and his wife, Galatea, who were said to have produced the French monarchy that would descend through history and ultimately lead to Emperor Charlemagne.

  “Now, here I was with my friend Vincent in France, unaware that I was poised to find what would be one of my greatest anthropological discoveries in my quest. It would give me the strength I would need to push forward to tell the history of giants from ancient times to the present day.

  “What was it that you think you found?” Darby asks.

  “It must have been a real giant bone. Like the one Bayne thought he found in Greece,” I quickly filled in. I had heard the skepticism clearly in her question. “But this time, Grandpa finds the real thing. Is that what it was, Grandpa? The bone of a giant?”

  “We seem to be getting ahead of ourselves again. Before we get there, there is some history to be learned here.”

  Our shoulders and hopes sank as all the excitement seemed to be taken back with the word “history”.

  Looking back, Grandpa Jack likely hoped that by now we would be more excited about history. After all, “without history there is no reality to his stories.” The gravity of history comes from order.

  “We’ll continue this story more tomorrow or perhaps after dinner if you two get your chores done,” he said. He was disappointed in our reaction. “Now run inside and see what your grandma might need help with this afternoon,” he continued.

  I insisted, “Just don’t forget where you left off. I don’t want us to miss a thing.”

  Going into the house, I turned and looked back. Grandpa Jack sat there and looked out over the farm from the front porch. I’d come to find out later that he enjoyed telling us his story. Something I don’t believe he ever sat down and told our father. I’ve always wondered what Dad would have thought. What would he have challenged his own father with?

  I’d also come to find out that Grandpa Jack struggled with reading the story. It talked about failures in his life. A history not many people would want to remember or be remembered for. There was more that lay ahead and things that he would have to explain. It had to be difficult to recount some of the painful parts of his failures.

  Like the familiarity of a song from our past, his history clearly brought back the feelings he had at the time of the events. I remember standing there at the screen door that day, or what I remember as that day. Watching him sit there and let a breeze wash over him, his eyes closed as the coolness of the air mixed with the warmth of the hot afternoon sun.

  The air on the farm was always cool and clean. Nothing like the city. Country breezes are as close to perfection as I can recall what I have experienced in my life. I imagine my grandfather feeling the same way I did about that breeze washing over him

  Later that night, something peculiar happened. For the first time since we arrived, there was a howling cry out through the moonlit night. It sounds like Darby or I had ever heard before. Almost half man and half animal. It is frightening. Immediately following the howl, I remember Rascal howling back. He then ran off to the western edge of the farm. His collar jiggled as he ran away from the house in the dark of night.

  It sounded like he had run off past the well house near the west gate. Darby and I could then hear Grandpa Jack go out onto the porch to see what all the barking was about. I quickly whispered, “What was that?”

  Darby didn’t answer. Her silence was the answer I needed. She didn’t know either, and she didn’t have enough confidence to speak more about it.

  I filled in the silence, “Is that a giant coming to the farm?”

  This time, Darby didn’t stay silent. “Are you crazy? Stay out of the clouds. It was probably a coyote or a wolf or something like that.”

  I focused on “something like that”. She didn’t know any better than I did. The thought of what it was both excited and scared me. It felt good knowing we had both Rascal and Grandpa Jack keeping watch over us. It was reassuring after the year we had to feel protected. When your parents are killed and you are a child, it feels like all the protection in the world has been killed with it.

  Grandma Mimi told me years later about a conversation she and Grandpa Jack had that night with howling we heard.

  She told me that she cautioned Jack. “Slow down a little. There is only so much time and so much that the twins can handle at their age.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” he’d tell her.

  He ended up going to the cabin that night to refresh some of his memories from that trip to France.

  He was looking for a map of Mount Fillon that he had drawn in France. Grandma Mimi said it was both a little exciting and scary. His enthusiasm meant things were changing.