Campy and the Belgian could see the town ahead where in the town square, in the midst of a crowd, was the finish line. Campy let the Belgian ride beside him, but with his wheel just ahead of the Belgian.
"Well, Domestic, it's yours for the taking."
"Oh no Campy, I couldn't, you were the one who pulled me here, it is yours."
"But I'm not in the race and you are. Go on, take the glory, you deserve it with all the water bottles and food you supplied to the main riders, it is your turn for some glory."
"Campy, I will be your domestic. I will ride with you and bring you anything."
Campy looked at the slight man. Strong and sinewy and thought about it for a moment. His own domestic but then Campy Girlymann was a free wheeling man who prided himself on being his own man.
"No son, you go on and take the glory. Campy is goin' to find himself a nice little bistro where the wine is cheap and the men even cheaper."
The domestic didn't want to leave Campy's side but when they entered the town and the roar of the crowd came at them with a rush, Girlymann backed off and took a side street to blend in. He kept an eye on the Belgian until the domestic was swallowed by the crowd and the sound of the winner coming to the finish line could be heard.
Campy was thirsty and hungry, he needed substance and perhaps a good bed after a good meal. He rode down the side street into a seedier side of the village. There, off to one side, near an alley on a narrow cobblestone street was the Noir Chat Cafe. A rather curious and queerly odd hangout for a crowd of artists and writers that needed a place of their own, for their own.
Girlymann placed his bike in front where he could see it from inside. The small leaded panes of glass that made up the window looked out to a planter of geraniums. Their bright red explosion of flowers waved in the slight breeze just above Campy's bike. Campy opened the door and walked in with the tinkle of a silver bell attached to the door announcing his arrival. The bartender, wiping a wine glass looked up to see who it was.
"Bon Jour, Monsieur Campy!"
"Long time no see, Pierre."
"Ah, but it so good to see you again. Come sit, have a glass of wine and tell me where you have been."
to be continued. ....
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