The carousel carver bows down
And within the healed wound,
the figure keeps the secret
Anon
What in the world wasthatsupposed to mean? Was this a reference to the apprentice carver she had been seeking? And what was the secret?
Cady scoured the next few pages, but the story careened off into a confusing mélange of musings about postwar taxes, the revolutionary notes of jazz music, and the generally decadent state of French society.
She had taken to using the mystery note as a bookmark. Gazing at it now, she drummed her fingers on the counter.
Souviens-toi de moi.
According to her plan, Cady was meant to stay in Paris for another week, continuing to photograph carousels and other related spectacles, such as carnivals and fairs, or vintage attractions like yesterday’s marionette show. Out of hundreds, or even thousands, of clicks, only a handful of final images would warrant being published in a book, so she needed to be able to show the publisher plenty of options.
But what she really wanted to do was to find out if Gus truly had come from Château Clement in Provence. And if so, why he hadn’tbeen carved by the famous French carver Bayol, and who had hidden the box in his belly, and how had a hundred-year-old carved carousel figure made its way into her hands in California? And who was the woman in the photograph, and who was begging whom to remember... whom?
You’re obsessing, Drake,she told herself.
It was a stupid idea. Of course it was. But... Cady opened her laptop and located Saint-Véran on a map, not far from Avignon. Two rooms were available for rent in private homes in the village, both inexpensive. Giving in to impulse, she booked one, along with a ticket on the TGV from Paris to Avignon, and a rental car to drive from Avignon to Château Clement.
After hitting the last Send button, Cady sat back and blew out a shaky breath. She poured herself another glass of wine, feeling impulsive, reckless.
Round and round on the carousel.
She couldn’t stop thinking about a derelict château in the Provençal countryside, inhabited by an elderly, reclusive novelist, hiding the remnants of a lost carousel.
It was probably a recipe for disaster.
But... it sounded a little like a fairy tale.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
1900
ANGERS
Maëlle
The factory is in full swing, with half the workers finishing a carousel for the city of Nantes while the other half start on the carousel for Château Clement. Bayol spends many evenings with his designer, poring over concept drawings, developing the sweet barnyard faces for which he is so famous.
Maëlle has learned that carousel designs depend on tricks of perspective to increase the sense of movement and size. For instance, the figures on the outside of the platform are larger in scale than those on the inside, creating a heightened sense of perspective. Often the top section of the carousel turns slowly clockwise while the main mechanism turns counterclockwise, increasing the dizzying sensations of spinning.
The animal figures are the focus, but they are not the only artistic feature. There is also a richly decorated fixed ceiling over the top of the moving carousel ceiling. The movement of the prancing animals, spinning tubs, and tilting gondolas is achieved through gearing under the platform. The mechanism is built by the engineer Charles Detay.
Bayol’satelier de mécaniqueemploys joiners, carpenters, and paintersin the workshop, but the master calls on the famous landscape painter and professor of Paris’s École de Beaux-Arts, Fernand Lutscher, to paint scenery panels and the decorative canvas ceilings that cover the wooden swifts and overhead cranks.
Eventually, Maëlle is allowed to carve some of the interior sides of the animals, the master closely watching her every chip and shave as she sculpts. She primes and gessoes and sands until her fingers are raw. Maëlle yearns to fully carve her own figure, but when she speaks up she is chastised.
“Do you know how long Léon Morice has worked for the master?” responds Monsieur Maréchal. “And still he does not carve his own figures. Monsieur Bayol is the artist here; he is the one who gains the commissions. Do you understand? An apprentice might work here for tenyearsbefore carving his own animal. You are too ambitious by far, little girl.”
She hates it when he calls her “little girl.” Her cheeks burn.
Lifting her eyes, she finds Léon’s gaze on her from across the studio.
• • •
