Le ciel est bleu

Chapter 1

In the early 20th century, a wealthy bourgeois George Lovelain bought 2.8 square miles of land in Seattle, having established factories there, he wanted people to visit his 'little' town. The town of Lovelain had an old folklore. It was alleged that bachelors visiting Lovelain for a tour or mere vacation would find their twin flames in the streets of Lovelain.

The Lovelains came from a wealthy background and British aristocracy. They had set up factories, theatres, shops, homes, hotels, restaurants and almost everything luxurious by the end of the 20th century. In a way, the folklore was pretty successful in tempting single men and women to visit Lovelain, thereby increasing its gross value. Technically, the demand here was for a suitable partner and thousands of dollars worth of coffee depending upon the number of coffee dates. A theatre named Sparks after George Jr's wife Susan Sparks was also distinguished to be a revival house of classic romcoms.

And here was a 28-year-old Timothée Notre Voight sitting in the front row of Sparks at 11 in the night and monotonously rewatching Jerry Maguire for the 4th time in the hope of finding a friend like Dorothy Parker or Rod Tidwell. Tired of yawing and sulking and jealous of the on-screen chemistry between Tom Cruise and Renée Zellweger, he calls up his 31-year-old ex-wife Rita Sutton in the hope of talking to his 3-year-old son named Harry. Unlike every other time, Rita actually picks up the phone.

"Hello, who is this?" answers Rita

"Hello, it's Tim, you had me at 'Hell no, we should just divorce' Timothée sarcastically remarks

"Of course! only you can call at 1 in the morning and still expect people to answer"

"So, I was watching Jerry Maguire and uhh, how's Harry?"

"Harry's all right, he's sleeping or pretending to sleep because I don't hear him snoring, either way, he's doing a good job. Jerry Maguire, I see"

"Does he miss me?"

"He would if he remembered what you looked like"

"Listen, I don't think I'll get the time to visit soon, my thesis is due and I know what you'll say 'Lazy Lazy Lazy' but hear me out, it's pretty long and arduous"

"Everything in your life is arduous and boring, even you"

"Hey!"

"It's true, that's why we hardly talked because you had nothing to say."

"I didn't know how to communicate with you, it's hard with a lot of people I meet to be honest," says Timothée with a low and sombre voice.

"Of course, it's hard, you're an autistic genius who left his master's programme to marry a woman 3 years senior to him."

"I'm not autistic, at least I hope not, it's hard, I don't find people that uh relate to me"

"You mean you don't find geniuses, if you did, you'd be interested and interesting to those people, people of your intellectual capacity.

I heard about that folklore in Lovelain, maybe, just maybe, you'll meet someone equally smart who finds you fascinating."

"Maybe and I hope so"

"I'm off to bed now, it's late, night, you bastard"

"Night, ex-wife."

He puts his phone down and wonders if the folklore was actually true but his logical side said to him that it's just a rumour spread by the Lovelain Capitalists to profit.

He reaches his room at the inn and falls asleep to the sound of an accordion playing in his speakers.

The next morning, Timothée woke up at 7 in the morning. He hard-pressed with his unfinished and unending thesis while knowing perfectly that he has to be ready for his research with his professor Dr De Marco at the University of Washington at 7. He hurried and put on pants and his batman T-shirt.