Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 41

I cut the smoke lamb into big pieces and ate a full bite.

Chomp

The rich flesh melts down as soon as it touches the teeth and tongue.

The gently melted lamb soothes the desolate chest with old memories.

Why can you be so benevolent.

The smell of lamb coming up through the nose is not burdensome at all.

Rather, I can fully feel this excellent lamb smoked steak with its generosity.

One more time.

Chomp

I can’t do anything but move my tongue and chin busily in the ecstasy that has reached the other side of pleasure.

“Is it good?”

Grandpa asked a very obvious question.

I smiled happily and nodded my head with mouth full of lamb meat.

“Go ahead and eat slowly.”

Chomp

Grandfather also took a big bite with his mouth.

He quickly opened his eyes wide.

“This is definitely delicious dish.”

“Ha ha ha. It must be delicious. We only deal with high-end products produced within a 50km radius of the Auvert,”

Martin Janssens added,

“We only buy and use organic ingredients from local farmers.”

I don’t know what organic is, but it’s probably a huge scientific and technological innovation.

It’s completely different from the dish of Mrs Ravoux, who wasn’t very good at cooking.

It has the same name, but the taste is completely different from when I lived here.

“When I think of Van Gogh, my heart aches. He couldn’t eat a bread properly and was hungry until he died.”

I’m eating everything I couldn’t eat then now. So it’s fine.

“That’s why I run this restaurant with the hope that if his soul is still left in this world, he can fill the regret that he couldn’t eat at that time.”

I didn’t know about the regret, but my heart does got filled with warmth hearing his words.

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

Martin Janssens and grandpa kept talking about work while I kept eating.

“So. How did it go.? Did you find it?”

“No, there’s no progress.”

“Seeing that you haven’t been able to find it so far, I suggest you should give up.”

“Well, you’re right. It must have changed because a lot of time has passed,”

I was chewing the lamb and listening, and then I met Martin Janssens’ eyes.

He smiled in vain and asked.

“Hun, do you know what was Van Gogh’s last work?”

“It’s Tree roots.”

Martin Janssens looked surprised.

“How did you know? It’s a very difficult question to answer.”

“I knew.”

“Everyone usually say it’s a wheat field. You must be a hardcore fan of Van Gogh for being able answer this difficult question so easily. Don’t you?”

“Even though he is young, Hun is smart like his grandfather. I think he know about Van Gogh better than you. Hahaha!”

“ Hahaha..stop joking Soo. I understand that you love your grandson, But do you really think, he know more about Van Gogh than me, the president of Van Gogh foundation.

“ Hahaha!”

I wondered why my grandfather knew well about me, I think he might have heard it from Martin Janssen, who studies Vincent van Gogh.

“Anyway, the location of the Tree roots in the painting you mentioned, remains unknown. Since it’s the last picture Van Gogh completed before….”

“ Martin.”

Grandpa shook his head when Martin Janssens tried to mention the time when I tried to commit suicide.

Martin Janssens also tried to swallow the words as if he had noticed the grandfather’s intention.

“ Grandpa. I know Van Gogh committed suicide.”

Grandpa seems to worry that I might think suicide as a brave act since the artist I like seems to have done it.

“Don’t worry grandpa. I know Suicide is bad.”

It is the cruelest thing you can do to yourself, and at the same time, the cruelest thing you can do to the people who loves you.

“Okay.”

Grandpa stroked my head.

“So, what’s happening with the Tree roots painting?”

When I asked a question to continue the topic, Martin Janssen groaned quietly and continued the story.

“Our foundation has been looking for the location where the tree roots painting was drawn. Then we can know where Van Gogh travelled before dying.”

I tried to name it as a Tree bush, but now it seems to be settled as a Tree roots.

“Why are you curious about that?”

“It’s very important to know what Van Gogh was thinking in his last days.”

I really don’t understand, why the people of this time wants know about my personal things, like looking at the letters of mine and Theo.

Isn’t this invasion of privacy.

“There’s still a question being raised that he didn’t commit suicide.”

Martin Janssens brought up an unexpected story.

“The most supported story is that he died because of the pranks of the children in Auvers.”

What does this mean?

At that time, the children of Auvers did do some extreme pranks, but they were not to the point of shooting at people as a joke.

At the time, when I was under police investigation, I said I did it myself, and I made sure that I wanted to die, especially to Theo and the people around me.

It had to look like that.

“Why did such a story arise?”

“It’s because it’s so sad.”

Martin Janssen’s expression hardened.

He seemed a little angry.

“They don’t want to believe that the great artist committed suicide. The act of giving up life itself is a sin, so they are trying to glorify him by saying it was a murder.”

Whether it’s with the Van Gogh Museum or with the compilation of my letters into books, I think I now understand a little about how people living in this era view me.

At first, I was just thrilled, but now that I think about it, I think that they are seeing me as a ‘Pitiful Genius Painter’ rather than Vincent Van Gogh.

I felt bitter.

I lost my appetite thinking about it and put down the fork and knife.

Martin Janssens who saw me put down the fork, forcefully continued the conversation.

“But I think that’s very rude to him,”

Martin Janssens said in a confident voice and I raised my head.

“We’re not trying to figure out exactly what he was doing at the time. What we want to prove is that Van Gogh didn’t want to die.”

I looked at the eyes of Martin, which was filled with love for painter Van Gogh, not pity.

“ Do you think, a person who had the will to draw 72 paintings in 70 days, had the will to die.”

Right. I was that desperate at that time.

I was going crazy because I wanted to draw as much as possible.

“People say he shouldn’t have committed something silly like suicide, but think about it. How did he feel when he couldn’t even hold the brush properly because of paralysis? For Vincent van Gogh, drawing was everything and a life without painting was meaningless for him.”

When I lived as Van Gogh, I’ve never met anyone who understood me so well.

“If we really love him, we should remember his life as it is. I’ve been looking for the place where he died for the past 40 years to find out and the show the world his passion for Art even when fighting with death.”

“ I don’t want People insult our Hero anymore as a coward, I want them to look at our Hero as a fighter, who fought till the end for the love of his life”

Martin Janssens breathed heavily after saying that.

Grandpa smiled and swept his back.

“This friend gets excited every time, he starts talking about Van Gogh.”

I thought coming here would bring back only bad memories, but it made me able to meet a good person.

I think I now understand why grandfather cares about him.

“You’ll see. I’ll definitely find it.”

Martin Janssens said with a face that didn’t show any signs of giving up.

The corner of my mouth grew wide.

I stood up from my seat and said.

“ Grandpa. I want to take a walk.”

“A walk?”

“It’s nice for digestion.”

“Well, if you want to, let’s do that.”

I left the Ravoux Lodger and started walking slowly.

As far as I remember, the north uphill road is not far up, and fortunately, the surroundings have not changed much, so I think I can find it.

“Hun, do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes Grandpa.”

I was walking ahead of grandpa and Martin Janssens, but suddenly I became a little confused at the appearance of a building that didn’t existed before.

Where is this place.

The sign says Daubigny, which means the area is right.

“My my. Little Hun has become excited after a long time.”

“Of course he will be full of energy since he is still a child.”

I found it, but the place changed.

There are buildings now, which weren’t present in my previous life.

Now I understood why they haven’t able found it even after 40 years of searching.

In the past, it was just a small uphill road, but now the surrounding scenery has become quite different, and it got changed into such a narrow space. It would be hard to recognize for anyone other than me.

It would have been nice if there was a picture left.

There is nothing I can do since there is no evidence even if I let Martin and grandpa know it’s here.

Even Martin, who had been living here for 40 years won’t believe me.

“Is the walk over already?”

Grandpa and Martin Janssen approached.

“When was this building built?”

“Well, it looks pretty old,”

Martin Janssen said, looking around with his heads up.

“It wouldn’t have been here when Van Gogh lived here.”

“Hahahah. Maybe you are right. I wonder what it used to be before.”

“…Yes.”

Martin Janssens, who bought all of the Auverts area and kept it the same way it used to be.

There is nothing I can do for him who accepted Vincent van Gogh as he is, not as a pitiful genius painter.

“We can try looking at it. There are quite a few old photographs in my office.”

“Old photographs?”

I had some expectations since the camera was already used when I was alive.

But who would have took a picture of the quiet uphill path?

Now it is possible to take photos with the smartphone, of whichever place we want, but at that time, it was difficult for ordinary people to take photos except when celebrating something.

“So. What do you think Soo?”

“Hohoho….Since my grandson is interested, count me in.”

We headed to Martin Janssens’ office.

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

‘Oh, my.’

37 Auvers-sur-Oise — Rue Daubigny.

An old postcard in Martin Janssens’ office surprised me.

The uphill road at 37 Daubigny remains so accurate.

Who on earth thought of putting this picture in a postcard in 1905.

“Grandpa Grandpa”

Grandpa and Martin Janssens, who were drinking tea, were frightened when I shouted loudly out of joy.

“Oh, I burnt my lips!”