Best Australian Yarn: Vivianne Delacour’s Blessing by Niharika Garg

Vivianne Delacour was an average modern twelve-year-old girl. She lived with her sister, Paisley, and her parents, Cedric and Patricia Delacour above a bakery in central Paris, France. Mr. and Mrs. Delacour owned one of the oldest bakeries in Paris and ran it all by themselves but for their daughters. The four were very busy. Yet Vivianne, the family’s oldest daughter, was different from the rest. The Delacours were all very grounded, down to Earth people, with Vivianne being an exception. She preferred to be in the clouds, stargazing, wishing, hoping that something magical would appear. Her acute sense of style however, trumped her family’s, for she wore only garments which complement her olive skin and chestnut curls precisely. Her parents sometimes fretted about her, hoping she would grow out of her ‘childish’ aspirations and even her sister doubted her occasionally so it was a true miracle when all of Viviannes’s fantasies finally came true…

Vivianne yawned awake with the sun, light streaming in through her large window and the comforting smell of fresh sourdough wafting in through her open door. A sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she realised it was her 12th birthday. She jumped out of bed and pulled on some blue denim jeans, a chartreuse sweater and a glimmering silver pendant. She grabbed her worn apron and rushed downstairs to the shop, surprised to see that the usual customers were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, her whole family burst out from behind the counter plus the shop’s regular customers and yelled “Bon anniversaire, Vivianne !”. “Merci, Merci” Vivianne replied, bewildered. Pulling out a cake, Vivianne’s mother said in heavy accented English, “ Here is a special cake for a special girl !”. Vivianne was overcome with gratitude. After profuse thankings, the group dug into the cake, a delicious confection with fluffy vanilla sponge and creamy chocolate ganache. Afterwards, a large present got handed to Vivianne by her father. She opened it carefully and gasped at what was inside. A brand new skateboard!

This peculiar passion was one Vivianne has been infatuated with ever since she tried it with her friend Colette at the age of 7. Her current skateboard was worn ( to say the least) and she had been desperate for a new one. She was immensely grateful that her parents gave her one, especially as it was her favourite colour, emerald. After gaining her parents’ permission, Viviaane grabbed her white skating helmet and her brand new skateboard and skated out onto the streets of Paris, texting her best friend, Colette Pierre, to meet her at the Cafe Fleur as soon as she could. Soon, Vivianne had arrived at the heart of Paris, the Eiffel Tower. She sat on a nearby bench and listened to the flutter of pigeon wings as the late morning sun beat down on her, making her hazel eyes sparkle. She waited for Colette, breathing in the overlapping scents of coffee and flora when she heard a familiar squeal and enthusiastic voice jabbering away in rapid french behind her. Colette had arrived! The two girls hugged as a hello and bought two cups of hot cocoa with their pocket money to chat over from Cafe Fleur. They caught up, gossiped, showed off new purchases and discussed each other’s outfits. The pair got along so famously that time flew in their company and before Vivianne knew it, the sky had turned shades of violet, magenta and vermillion and the sun had started to dip over the horizon.

Colette and Vivianne decided to bid their goodbyes and return home to their families. Vivianne made the executive decision to walk home and so she did, skateboard in her hand and darkening the Parisian sky above. She walked down backstreets in the dim, streetlit light and stopped to rest her aching legs. She realised that she was standing in front of the great Notre Dame Cathedral itself, one of the prides of Paris. She examined its intricate infrastructure and craftsmanship from bottom to top but her eyes lingered on the grotesque gargoyles that adorned its roofline. The most famous in the world, these gargoyles were ancient creatures, mythed to come alive at night and have magical powers. Vivianne looked away as she contemplated the likelihood of such things being true when she felt a slight swoop of wind brush her cheek. Glancing up, Vivianne gasped at what she saw, for hiding a portion of the stars that blanketed the late evening sky, she saw the group of gargoyles that sat upon the Notre Dame Cathedral. Vivianne couldn’t believe her eyes. The gargoyles glided and swooped in ways that mankind didn’t even think possible. She rushed home, puzzled, disbelieving and very, very curious. What could possibly just have happened?

Entering her home, she greeted her parents and answered a few questions about her day incoherently before hurriedly padding up to her room. She tugged the door shut behind her and stumbled onto her bed, pulling her sheets up to her chin. “It’s all going to be okay, “ she comforted herself and wandered into a broken sleep with dreams about gargoyles hunting her down. The next morning, she woke with the yelp after exiting another horrifying dream about the creatures and came to the conclusion that the only way to put her mind at ease was to visit the gargoyles again that night to find out whether her ramblings were true. And so she did. At the exact time she finished her meeting with Colette the previous day, Vivianne snuck out of her house. She creeped out of her bedroom, tiptoed down the stairs, sneaked through the hallway and creaked open the door to exit, all while her parents and sister were oblivious. Bundled in a puffy jacket, Viviaane cautiously walked over the dimly lit pavement to Notre Dame Cathedral and arrived just in time to see the stone chipping off the gargoyles and their large, scaly bodies erupting from underneath. They soared over the Parisian rooftops in pin-drop silence and Vivianne watched in awe, as if in a trance.

Hiding an escaped yawn, Vivianne awoke from her hypnotic state and returned home. The next morning, she came to a decision. Just like she did in a science experiment at school, she would do this seven more times to make sure her results are accurate. And sure enough, a week of sneakiness and watching gargoyles later, Vivianne realised that this was actually happening. After the initial shock of being associated with mythical creatures had passed, she made the difficult decision not to tell anyone. Not her parents because they would get worried and think she’s crazy and not to Paisley because she would just tease Vivianne. She thought of telling Colette but in the end, she couldn’t risk their friendship on a fantasy. Apart from them, Vivianne didn’t really have anyone else and they would think she’s delusional even if she did. And so it was a secret, and a well kept one too. After a couple of more weeks of life in this orientation, Vivianne was enjoying her new schedule, apart from a few drowsy mornings. She felt that the gargoyles sensed her presence and were comfortable with it but she didn’t know for sure. They were gargoyles after all. Then it hit her, of course she couldn’t communicate with the gargoyles but what’s one thing created to help mankind understand faraway concepts better? The Internet !

Vivianne sprinted to her computer and logged on as fast as she could, fingers flying across the keyboard. Once she was on, she Googled every question in her mind, scoured every website she found, sifted through every article she came across until her thirst for knowledge was quenched and she flopped back onto her bed sighing. In truth, she has learned quite a bit of information on gargoyles. She previously knew about the gargoyles of Notre Dame Cathedral were the most famous of all but she found that it was supposedly originally a french legend that gargoyles came alive even though Ancient Egyptians have had gargoyles above their pyramids for centuries to ward off set their god of chaos. In Europe they were used to ward off evil spirits but did not bother humans, which explained why they stayed away from Vivianne. She knew they were reptiles but they are apparently also cousins of grotesques and chimeras. They were even derived from the French word gargouille meaning throat but there are many in American city, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. They were used to prevent water erosion from masonry and mortar but have long been replaced by drainpipes and are now purely for decor. With a newly heightened understanding of the gargoyles, Vivianne was enjoying her nightly session more and more as time wore on, a heavy workload took hold of her and she was forced to reduce her visitings gradually until it reached a time when she was only visiting them once a week. Did Vivianne want to watch them more ? Yes. Did she enjoy watching them? Absolutely. She utilised her time around them expertly through the years and one night of many, as she watched the gargoyles soar, Vivianne prayed someone in the future would someday be bestowed a blessing as amazing as hers.