Day 1375: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: the first bill

Day 1375: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: the first bill

Saturday morning, I opened a letter that came from the city of
Los Angeles on Friday. It turned out to be a $160 parking ticket for an Acura Integra - the car I used to drive two years ago.

"Wait a second," I said to myself, "didn't I sell it by then? Where is the damn bill of sale?"

I looked inside my filing cabinets for about fifteen minutes and felt nauseous. "Oh man, is this how I'm supposed to spend my weekend!?" I asked Francis the First, who was mysteriously half smiling at me from the reproduction that hung on my office wall.

I slammed the cabinet drawer, fell back into the chair, and closed my eyes.

Francis, Francis, I'd much rather wander in your time than deal with the nasty parking tickets. I could just see it.

Foggy morning, November 1505. Turin, France:
A group of horsemen is approaching the City Hall building. They are armed and dressed fancy. In the middle of the group is a young man without a helmet.
His red tunic is flapping on the wind.

Wait a minute. It couldn't have been 1505. Francis was born in 1494. In 1505 he was only eleven. Think. Think! Okay. Hold your horses, Francis.

Bright morning, August 1516, Amboise, France:

A young man wakes up with a smile, gets up, and rings the bell. The lackey immediately walks into the large room and bows.

"Your majesty?"

"Fertiet, did he come?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"When?"

"Yesterday late in the evening." Fertiet buttoned Francis' doublet. "Your majesty, please straighten your back."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"
Francis turned, letting hid lackey straighten the garment on his back.

"Your majesty was asleep. I did not dare."

"How silly, Fertiet. Didn't I tell you to inform me as soon as he would arrive?"

"Yes, your majesty. I am sorry, Sire." Fertiet bowed even deeper than etiquette required.

"How does it look?" Francis asked.

"Marvelous, your majesty, marvelous." Fertiet looked at the young Francis with admiration.

"So, where is he? Did he sleep well?"
Francis put his right hand in a sleeve of a robe.

"Yes, your majesty. We gave him an apartment in the left wing of the palace."

"So where is he now? I can't wait to meet him."

"Master from Vinci is in the main hall with all the other courtiers. He is seeking to be admitted to your sight."

"Quick, Fertiet, quick. Hold the robe straight."

Francis Valois, the king of France, has left his bedroom and quickly went through the palace's corridors towards the main hall. His lackey, Fertier, adjutant - count d'Alene and ten soldiers guarding the entrance to his bedroom at night followed him.

The young king walked so fast that his followers had to run at times to catch up. Their steps left a loud, dull trace in the tranquility of the castle corridors.

Hmm, I wonder about that? "Where the corridors carpeted?" I should look it up in the "History of Arts" or something.

"His majesty, King of France," the announcer proclaimed.

All the courtiers aborted their conversations at once, and the main hall became very quiet. Francis took a quick look around, scanning through French courtiers and foreign diplomats.

"Ah, here he is!" He exclaimed and walked toward the right side of the hall.
People parted, leaving an old man with long gray hair in modest black clothes standing in front of the king.

"Master Leonardo from Vinci!" said Francis loudly so everybody could hear him, grabbing and squishing the old man's hands.
"I am so happy to see you."

"Your majesty," Leonardo's voice hoarse from excitement, dropped on one knee and kissed Francis' hand.

"Please don't do this, monsignor," said Francis trying to lift Leonardo from the floor.

"The honor is all ours. The whole civilized world knows about your incredible achievements! I was in Milan and saw your "Last Supper." A magnificent piece!

Wait. Was it Milan or Pisa? Hell, I don't remember. Oh, who gives a damn!

"I am very honored," your majesty" Leonardo slowly got up from his knees and bowed low. "You won't be sorry that you've invited me. I am old, but I am still strong. I can be very helpful as a military engineer and architect as well as painter."

Francis gestured for the man to stop.

"Master Leonardo," said he loudly and distinctly, "We have been following your life. None of your previous patrons gave you justice. You see, we don't want you to do anything." He smiled, turning towards the crowd lifting his hands, and smiling. Everybody smiled in return praising his generosity. He was charming despite the characteristic Valois family long nose and small eyes.

"We just want you to rest and be happy with us" he turned back to Leonardo.
"That doesn't mean you cannot do something if you want to. We have huge plans. We don't want you to worry about stupid survival."

Leonardo Da Vinci stood in front of the young king with tears in his eyes.

"Your majesty, I brought you a present.
Leonardo made a sign to his apprentice, who stood in the corridor behind the main hall door.

"The apprentice brought what seemed to be a painting covered so that observers could see only the backside of its canvas. Francis stood impatiently, and his impatience transferred to all the people in the hall.

Leonardo removed the draping. The crowd sighed deeply; several ladies screamed. Francis's eyes glued to the canvas.

"My god!" He exclaimed. "What is it?"

"It's a portrait of a young lady, your majesty. Her name is Mona Lisa."

She looked at people with a strange half-smile as if knowing everything about them and much, much more.

I wondered if their actual meeting was similar to the way I imagined it. I thought that it was clever of this Renaissance politician to invite Leonardo and give him a sense of stability in his old age. In return, he received one of the most precious pieces of art ever created on Earth and his place in history. He did what he had to do for the glory of France then, and I had to do what I had to do now. I opened my eyes and winked to Francis on the portrait, right man?

"You bet," Francis told me, winking back. I smiled and went back to look for that damn bill of sale.