So I made the decision.

I stopped the project. I liked the walls the way they were. I didn't want the beams to be painted. I liked the crumbling plaster ceiling (this, in retrospect was a mistake) and I told them to leave the walls. The contractor was very gracious. The workers I am am sure thought I was nuts. I am sort of. But what I didn't realize, couldn't realize was that Foued would be out of a job. Not permanently since there was work waiting for him but this job was over. He had been promised, say, 500 euros for the work and he was only going to get 50. He could not understand this. He had been promised 500. He was furious. Oddly, not with me but with the contractor. He took a hammer and began to chop out the wall he had completed. He was forcibly restrained and ejected from the apartment. Not while I was there thank God. In fact, I had no idea this had happened. I was out quaffing beers with Loralyn who was neglecting her children.


But Foued was furious. He stalked the contractor and spit in his wife's face. He came to my door and harangued me in French I could not understand, spitting (accidently) through his braces as he passionately told me a story I did not comprehend. He began to stalk me in the small town. Sitting in a bistro to have a beer was frightening for me. Walking down the small unfamiliar streets at night was horrifying. Everything echoes, there are not a lot of lights.