Free Coda 05 -Paris a to Z by Marie Sexton Page A

have come.”
“Dont worry about it a bit,” Cole said. “Im sure Zach can coax at least one more out of you.”
Jared laughed so hard, I was amazed he managed to stay in his chair.
    L UNCH took about three hours, which Jon assured me was normal for Paris. When we emerged back onto the street, it was colder than it had been earlier. Our breath puffed out in clouds. The sky was low and white, and the air almost seemed to sparkle in a way I recognized from Colorado—it was threatening to snow.
    Cole led us to one of the Metro stations. “I thought wed do the Arc today,” he said as we went. “It wont take as long as the Eiffel Tower, and I suspect youre all exhausted after that trip. Youll probably be ready for bed by dinner time.”
    After our huge meal, and a bit too much wine (Id lost track of the number of times Jon had refilled my glass), I would have been happy to go back to the hotel and climb into bed right then, but Cole assured us that the best thing to do was to persevere through the afternoon, eat an early dinner (by which he meant eat at a normal time for Americans as opposed to eight or nine oclock like the French), and then go to bed early.
    I was grateful that Cole knew where to go and what to do. The map on the Metro wall would have baffled me even if I hadnt been jet-lagged and a tiny bit drunk. Angelos eyes were huge, just as theyd been in Vegas, as he tried to take in everything at once. He brought our entire party to a halt in the Metro station to listen to a street performer sing as she played her guitar. Her clothes were dirty, and her eyes bruised. But her voice was low and sultry, sexy and seedy, and Angelo stood in front of her, mesmerized.
    “Whats she singin bout?” he asked Cole.
    Cole listened for a moment to the French words. “It seems to be about an empty cage,” he said, sounding puzzled. “A bird thats gone.”

    Angelo looked strangely spooked by that. “Is she sad?” Cole listened to a few more lines before answering. “Not exactly. It
    seems to be more about being free.”
    Angelo turned to look at me, as if that might mean something to me, but it didnt, and I shrugged. He turned away again, digging in his pocket and coming up with a few French bills. He tossed one into her open guitar case.
    “Dont let him use his own money,” I heard Cole whisper to Jon, reaching for his wallet, but Jon stopped him, shaking his head. It confused Cole, but I was glad that Jon understood. It wouldnt have meant as much to Angelo if it hadnt been his own. The others moved away then, but Angelo stood listening to a song he couldnt understand until the train came and I had to tug his hand to get him to follow.
    Once we reached the Arc, we spent a while at the bottom, looking at the carvings and in the visitor center. Then we started to climb. The spiral staircase was steep and narrow, but the view from the top was worth it.
    It was dusk, and streetlights were coming on. There were a dozen streets that led away from the Arc like wheel spokes. All dozen of them led into a roundabout with the Arc at its center.
    “The traffic down there looks insane,” I said. “No wonder they ride the Metro.”
Angelo looked at me in disbelief. “Were in Paris , Zach, and youre lookin at the traffic?” He shook his head. “Youre so weird.”
“What should I be looking at?”
“Everything.” He gestured at the landscape around us. “ A to Z says the view from heres even better than from the tower.”
“Really?”
“Maybe cause you can see that,” he said, pointing southeast at the Eiffel Tower. It was fully lit, glowing and majestic over the city.
I stood behind him and put my arm around his neck. “It is kind of pretty,” I said.
He laughed at what he probably thought was a ridiculous understatement. He leaned back, his weight so comfortable and familiar

    against me. “Thanks, Zach.”
“I dont know why youre thanking me. Coles the one who brought us here.”
“I know,” he said. “But I also