Springtime in Paris: A Journey to Remember

On a rainy afternoon, the Atomic Octopus opened the brass hatch of his memory cabinet and began polishing old adventures. As gears turned and recollections flickered, he realized one precious journey was missing: his adventure during springtime in Paris.

Memories from Around the World

There was New Orleans, where trumpet notes had curled around his tentacles like golden ribbons, and where he learned that even a machine could dance if the rhythm was persuasive enough. There was Meteor Crater, vast and silent beneath the Arizona sky, where his compass spun backward and a startled jackrabbit mistook him for a moon rover.

Then there was the New Jersey Shore, with its saltwater taffy, noisy gulls, boardwalk wheels, and one unfortunate misunderstanding involving eight simultaneous games of ring toss.

Occo clicked fondly to himself. What a well-traveled octopus he was.

Then a photograph slipped from between two gears and fluttered to the floor.

“Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed. “Paris!”

How could he have nearly forgotten springtime in Paris?

A Croissant and a Compliment

The memory returned in a bright rush. Occo had arrived beside the Seine wearing a black beret, a red scarf, and goggles polished so perfectly that every cloud admired itself in them. Chestnut trees were budding along the boulevards. Flowers spilled from cream-colored balconies. The Eiffel Tower rose above the city like the world’s most elegant antenna.

Occo’s first stop was a sidewalk café. With one arm he lifted a tiny cup of chocolate, with another he held a warm croissant, and with a third he unfolded a map. The remaining five tried to look casual, which is difficult when you are an atomic octopus surrounded by wicker chairs.

A waiter studied him gravely.

“Monsieur,” he said, “you have excellent mechanical posture.”

Occo treasured the compliment.

The Flag Above the Seine

After breakfast he wandered along the river, photographing bridges, booksellers, and boats. Near the Quai de la Tour Eiffel, however, a gust of spring wind snatched the French flag from its bracket. It sailed above the promenade, dipping toward the Seine.

Occo sprang into action.

One tentacle hooked a lamppost. Two formed a ladder. Another caught the flag just before it touched the water. He returned it to its bracket with a delicate metallic flourish while café patrons applauded and a violinist improvised a triumphant waltz.

For the rest of the afternoon, Paris seemed to celebrate with him. Children waved from a carousel. Bakers offered him macarons in eight different colors. At sunset, the Eiffel Tower began to sparkle, and every tiny light flashed across his rivets until he glittered too.

Remembering Springtime in Paris

Back in the present, Occo placed the photograph beside his New Orleans trumpet, his crater stone, and a seashell from New Jersey.

Some adventures thunder, he thought. Others taste of salt, sound like jazz, or spin beneath carnival lights.

But springtime in Paris had been different. It was a croissant held carefully in a steel claw, a red scarf dancing in a soft breeze, and warm sunshine touching an atomic heart.

That was certainly worth remembering.

Another fun use for the tools is proving to invent a backstory or add some words to dress things up.