Two days later, in Jongno.
Winter had passed and early sumr had arrived during the exhibition preparation period.
It had been a long ti since I last visited an art gallery.
It had been over eight months since I t Henri.
Is his exhibition still ongoing?
Damn art gallery. They should at least announce it in advance.
They change exhibitions abruptly and sotis extend them for a long ti, so it's unpredictable.
If only they had a website, or even a phone number, I wouldn't have to visit in person.
"Phew, luckily it's still on."
The art gallery, still in the sa spot, doing the sa exhibition.
Looks like I can still et Henri.
I quickly bought a ticket and went down to the basent.
Now, it feels normal for it to be empty.
Walking into the deserted gallery today, I sat on a rock sofa amidst grand music, waiting for Henri's painting. The painting that makes dream. Until Henri's bed appears.
I waited for the painting in the most comfortable position I could manage.
And when the painting finally appeared, I closed my eyes, accustod to the dizzy sensation.
**
Clopping, jingling.
The sound of a carriage on a muddy road, people in boots walking over puddles.
When I gently opened my eyes, I found myself standing on the grass next to a country road.
A carriage passed by, followed by two gentlen walking. In this dream, too, I wonder if people can see ?
One of the two gentlen talking to each other glanced at . As seeing an Asian in this era's Paris was unusual, they looked at curiously and nudged each other, gesturing towards .
'I am visible again this ti.'
I straightened my clothes and approached them on the dirt road.
"Excuse , monsieur."
Sohow, I can communicate with people of this era. The gentlen were surprised to hear speak their language.
"French?"
"No."
"Did you co by ship? To where, Spain?"
Henri asked similar questions. I evaded them.
"Yes, that's right. May I ask you sothing?"
"What is it?"
"What year is it now?"
"..............."
It's a trivial question. But think about it. If soone ca up to you on the street and instead of asking for directions, asked what year it was, you'd find them strange, too.
"It's 1899."
"Oh, is that so? And where is this?"
The two gentlen looked at each other and then up and down at , as if I were a madman.
"Neuilly-sur-Seine, on the outskirts of Paris."
"Ah, thank you."
The gentlen, startled by my deep bow, a rare sight in Europe, quickly walked away. They probably thought I was not sane.
But I couldn't worry about their reaction.
I had guessed what might be happening to Henri based on the information they gave.
'1899, Neuilly-sur-Seine. This must be when Henri was hospitalized for alcohol-related ntal illness.'
Oh no! I forgot to ask for the location of the ntal hospital.
I waved my hands frantically and chased after the rapidly departing gentlen.
"Excuse , monsieur! Where is the ntal hospital?"
The gentlen ran away in horror.
"Ahh!"
"He's mad!"
No, I'm not saying I want to be admitted there. I need to visit soone.
Chased away like a mad dog, the gentlen ran off.
I stopped in my tracks, daunted by their monstrous glares.
"Damn."
Where do I find a ntal hospital in Paris in 1899?
I caught my breath from the chase and looked around.
I could see a few buildings in the distance. Like in Joseon at that ti, even in a large city, a short distance outside the city limits was completely rural. Paris was no different. If I head towards where there are buildings, I should find people. Then I can ask again.
A building resembling a Greek temple.
I stopped looking for passersby to ask directions and instead headed towards the building, noticing a sign carved into a stone panel of the building.
'Folie Saint-Jas Asylum'
Folie Saint-Jas ntal Hospital.
I don't know which ntal hospital Henri was confined in.
But it's unlikely that there are two ntal hospitals in such a rural area.
I should have studied more before coming here. Let's just go and see.
As I enter the hospital, a woman dressed as a nurse in the cozy lobby looks at and is startled. It's the sa unfamiliarity with an Asian, now a familiar reaction to .
I straightened my posture and asked.
"Excuse . I've co to visit a friend who's admitted here."
The nurse, surprised once again by my fluent French, quickly realized my request and began looking through the charts.
"What's your friend's na?"
Phew, I never thought I'd actually have to say this long na.
"Comte Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa."
Damn these nobles with their long nas.
Unlike modern hospitals where a PC search would suffice, the nurse flipped through charts to find the room number and then handed a docunt.
"Room 303. Please write your na and signature for the visitor's record."
""
Hmm, signing is fine, but what about the na? Maybe I should just write it in English?
I wrote my na in English and added the signature I created, then handed it back to the nurse.
After checking my na, the nurse asked.
"Are you from the Netherlands?"
I get this question a lot. The Ban surna isn't common in Korea, but in Europe, it's always assud to be Dutch.
"No, I'm from another country."
The nurse seed to want to ask more but then nodded.
"You said he's a friend?"
"Yes."
"Let's go together. But if he doesn't recognize you, you cannot visit."
"Okay."
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