The Cult of Romeo

XIII. Good Night, Good Night!

Act 2, Scene 3

The rain poured dangerously fast, like small pellets that showered down from the heavens. I liked it, though. The rain as if created a barrier between Khaleel and me against everything else. The sound masked our voices, making them sound like deep whispers rather than words. We were hidden by the reaching branches of the tree and backs pressed against the cold stone wall. 

I couldn't help but want to confide in this boy, and I never confided in anyone anymore. I felt the need to explain myself because it was as though I desperately had to make him understand me and my habits and why I was the way I was. 

"So my family business is a bit of everything these days but back in Lucien Monet's day when he started it all those years ago, it was just bottled juice. I'm not sure what was in it then, or what's in it now, but it's popular regardless. He was going through a real rough time and the family was having a struggle making ends meet. He had a drinking problem and the money was running thin so he decided to gamble in hopes he'd make it all back and double. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and he ended up in a worse place than when he started, as all gambling addictions start," I explained thoroughly, not taking my eyes away from the puddle covered floor of the school campus just through the branches that loomed over us. 

My whole side was on fire from his stare but I tried not to let it bother me. "So, when his only son got sick, Lucien supposedly called on higher forces to help him. These higher forces heard his calls that were so desperate and pleading, they had no choice but to answer. Depending on who you ask, it was either a god or the devil who made his wishes come true by creating a fountain in his garden that spouted this drink my family sells. Julien bottled this juice and he sold it to all of France, even the richest of all the country. Soon, he made all his money back and sold it outside the country too, even outside the continent! Lucien soon became rich, far richer than he ever knew possible. His son got the treatment for his illness, it seemed his wife was happy and the fountain never stopped working." 

"I feel like there should be a sinister twist but your family is still rich so I'm not sure there is one..." Khaleel commented. I was grateful he was still listening. 

"You're right, there is a twist. The wish-granter didn't care much for the money Lucien had made so he never removed the fountain. However, he granted the man a unique gift of vision. Visions of the past and future." 

Recognition flickered in his eyes when I glanced up and it encouraged me to continue. 

"With his powers of the past, it ensured that he could never make the same mistakes again. No more drinking or gambling or anything of the sort. Then, with his visions of the future, he was able to see what was to come for his company and how to make sure it continued to thrive. However, whether on purpose or not by that higher power, it seemed this gift was more a curse in disguise. He was able to see everyone around him's past and futures. He saw the vision of his wife's affair through her eyes over and over again. He prophesied of his mother's death every time he brushed against her skin, weeks before she showed any sort of sign of illness. There was nothing he could do about it once he'd seen it." 

I paused and leant my head against the building behind me. I hated this story. My father once told it as a glamourous tale before bed and wondered why I couldn't sleep. Not even Henri's bedtime stories could rid these horrible memories. 

"This supposed gift soon turned Lucien Monet sick with madness and he killed himself the summer of his peak success. The business was then passed along to his son, and so was the curse. The son, however, kept a diary of his slow descent into madness that, to today, the Monet's still swear by. He learnt that the curse was cruel and unforgiving but the only thing that kept the business alive. These visions are all that hold it together and the reason the Monet's have gotten this far."