Chapter 3

Château Migraine

  1. The county fair: white tents, faded bunting, hay bales, a Ferris wheel. Gérard raises a glass behind a table of dusty bottles with a tooth on the label; Monique is sceptical, Papy René drinks from the bottle.

    The county fair. Gérard enters his wine: Château Migraine.

    Today, America learns wine!

  2. A fair judge tastes the wine: horrible grimace, cheeks puffed, eyes watering, about to spit in a bucket. Behind her, Gérard smooths his moustache, confident.

    PTUI!

    You see? She is moved.

  3. Gérard holds up a big blue first-prize rosette, chest out, eyes shining.

    FIRST PRIZE! France one, America zero!

  4. Monique reads the little card of the rosette, one eyebrow up; next to her Gérard’s smile falls apart.

    It says “Best vinegar”, Gérard.

    Vinegar is just wine that tried harder!

  5. Duane, the sheriff’s deputy, tall and skinny under a hat too big, leans very close to Gérard, clutching a toy high-speed train; Gérard leans back, sweating.

    Sir, you’re French! Have you driven a TGV? How fast does it go?

    …Very. Very fast.

  6. Gérard mimes a train with his arms like pistons and puffed cheeks; Duane takes notes in a little notebook, fascinated.

    What color are the seats? Is there a dining car? Do they have cheese?

    Choo. Choo.

  7. At the stand, Monique brings a baguette down on Gérard, his beret flies, his bottles wobble; Duane gapes behind, clutching his train; Papy René looks straight at us, glass of red raised.

    BONK!

    Monique, take it for your salad. Finally, some taste in your kitchen.

    Vinegar? So that’s why I like it.