Mai at the Predators' Ball (13 page)

Strange Years
, my style was pretty bloodthirsty and I can’t fully bring myself to regret it, Daniel has matured though and the youthful failings of his first books are no longer so evident, tighten up your sentences, the entire content, that’s what I always said to him, if he’d listened to me I bet his writing would be covered in university courses by now, I really believed I was doing the right thing by critiquing him the way I did, okay, critics like me just can’t resist being a bit acerbic, it’s a temperamental thing I admit, but that was before, when Daniel was still a beginner and new to the game and I too had to sharpen my claws on somebody, so why not him, what do you say Esther, I did do the right thing didn’t I, oh that’s between you and your conscience my friend said Mère, that poem of yours, “Settling Accounts,” is one of the most moving precisely because you admit your failings, Augustino now, in his book
Letter to Young People Without a Future
, didn’t escape your scourge either, remember, Adrien, my grandson was most upset, whatever claw marks I may have left on him replied Adrien, a young writer absolutely must be pushed to the wall by criticism, it can only give him a push along his way and force him to shake things up, after all he hasn’t stopped writing has he, no of course not, his success isn’t any the less for it either is it, again no, he’s still writing constantly and travelling abroad, so much so even his father is a bit jealous of him, still I have an article coming up showing that the pessimism and human sympathy between father and son allow Daniel and his own son to share a morbid fascination for the dramas of the past, they share a common belief that the errors of the past are handed down from generation to generation, that we are not born innocent and stain-free, that the curse of error is imprinted in every one of us, born guilty, that’s what we are truly Esther, I can’t agree with such a thing, it would mean the abolition of all joy in life, I am an earthly creature too fond of life to subscribe to such a disconsolate doctrine, still with my sweet, my beloved Suzanne gone the old joie de vivre
seems to have abandoned me, you know I see her on the tennis court from time to time, Daniel says it’s just a mirage of course, it’s Charly, Caroline’s chauffeur, she hounds me everywhere, offering her services, look how alone you are without your wife to drive you around, perhaps I can be of use to you she says, Caroline, indeed yes Caroline had no complaints whatsoever, and she comes on every bit as enticing as she must have been to poor Caroline, must be the vanity of an old man anxious to please and feel on par with young people, she can be dangerously fascinating as a matter of fact, and I think to myself what have I got to lose without the love of my life beside me, everything else bores me, what I read, what I write, what I translate, everything without Suzanne, she was my observation post, nothing reaches me anymore without her, her amused and penetrating stare, I see things through her eyes or not at all, she was celebration itself and without her nothing amuses me as it used to, beware of Charly, my friend, don’t trust her said Mère, remember how she drove Caroline mad with her drugs, do look out for yourself my friend, for that way the trap of madness may well close on you, oh my dear how can I protect you from that woman, oh perhaps she’s not quite the monster they make her out to be said Adrien, the young woman’s attractive in her own way, hard to pin down perhaps but she might be a pleasant change, oh no don’t start spending time with her Mère said, now do promise me you won’t, then she saw him get up to leave, still handsome in his blue blazer and white pants, oh how she wished she could get him to stay just a bit longer, I’m dining with Isaac tonight he told her, more than ninety years old and still making plans, such a man, if only it weren’t so foggy, then we could go off to the Island No One Owns,
Isaac says from the towers he’s built onto the house you can see not only the ocean but infinity, oh better for me to stay away then, I’m not in the mood to see anything limitless right now, I’d lose myself completely, better for me to stay on terra firma even though I do miss my dear wife so, the companion of a lifetime, can it really be that we’ve been together so long, dear sweet wife he repeated, through the window of the bar and the metal grille in the shape of a bird Petites Cendres saw Louisa, a young black prostitute, whistling a song through her teeth, her tulle hat was almost a green umbrella held close over her head, hopping from foot to foot she seemed to be expecting a client at sunset over the turquoise and green water just at the end of the street, hey you got a few grams for me Petites Cendres asked her, Timo always had some on him and I bet you do too, but Louisa said she’d seen his old man sawing away on the old violin over on Esmeralda and when he saw Louisa he said beat it, I don’t want your filthy money, that’s no kind of father for you she said from under the wavy green hat, it’s really a shame, really it is to see him wearing that scratchy old tweed suit, now Louisa’s parents were living well and Louisa had a lot of customers, so they were all going to get rich and live in the Bahamas, yes we are, what you’ve got to do she said, is make it out before you wind up rotting in prison like all those pimps, what the hell’s happened to that Timo of yours anyway, eh she asked Petites Cendres, they put him up against a wall and shot him quietly, well almost quietly, one revolver shot that echoes round the countryside for just a moment, oh he’s fine came the answer, he’s in Mexico you know and he doesn’t want for a thing, no, no way, no way he’s squirming for a fix, nasty little habit, nope he gets his half-gram of coke a day, maybe four joints, meth, really, even his fifty-milligram spoonful of heroin, he told me it’s perfectly legal, hey it’s manna from heaven, yeah well he’s still going to wind up against the wall with a revolver to his head Louisa said, least he hasn’t run into those killers wearing hoods, let’s face it we all know a whole bunch of us are going to buy it in the end, look you’d better get out of here, find somewhere else Petites Cendres said, Yinn and Jason don’t want you coming into the bar, oh yeah well they don’t own the sidewalk and that’s mine she shot back at him, I can do whatever I want out here, c’mon ain’tcha got just a small hit for me Petites Cendres asked her again, and she shook with laughter under the hat which flapped its green wings, nah not a thing Petites Cendres, you can’t pay and I don’t give credit, what you gonna use for money huh, then Petites Cendres heard a voice calling Louisa, hey Louisa c’mon over here, I wanna talk to you, hey, and there under the street lamp leaned the familiar silhouette of Herman, come on over here Louisa, I don’t want anyone listening in, and with one bound svelte Louisa ran over to him as he spun slowly round the lamppost the way Yinn so often did when she was displeased or annoyed, or so it seemed to Petites Cendres, rotating with one hand gripping the base till he got dizzy, so what’s up Herman Louisa demanded, your brother Marcus, that’s who I want, he needs to give me some of that pain medication, I’m dancing tomorrow night and I don’t want it to show, he’s a nurse so it should be easy, nope, uh-uh was her reply, my brother’s already got a record, once more and he goes to jail, tell me, tell me where I can find him Herman said, he was standing next to her now and whispering in her ear, he still had all his fringes dripping off him, the outfit he wore for the second show Petites Cendres had seen moments ago, the one where he sat on the papier-mâché horse, I hurt my leg, a few more days and I’ll be right as rain, I just want to get rid of this stabbing sensation so I can go on dancing at night, c’mon where is Marcus, it’s really urgent I talk to him Louisa, liar she said, it’s malaria and you know it, you’re lying Herman, no honest I fell over the set onstage he protested, it’s that stuff you dissolve in bottled water, all I have to do is take some before I go on and I can pull it off fine, but Yinn mustn’t find out, no way, it’s just between Marcus and me, hey it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve made a deal, yeah well you and your deals are going to land him in jail, he’s the one who’ll get caught taking them without a doctor’s order, not you Herman, hell no not a rich white man, even if your old man the lawyer helps us, no, uh-unh it’ll be my brother Marcus who gets sent away for a second offence, not you, but Louisa was really dug in now, aw come on it’s not like I’m asking you for some sort of illegal dope or anything said Herman, just an anesthetic to ease the pain, that’s all, Marcus can do that for me can’t he, where is he anyway, why isn’t he at the hospital, what’s he got himself into now, look all I know is it’s bubbly and it really works, that’s all he ploughed on, he’s the only one that can get it for me, where is he, where’s Marcus anyway, by now he was distraught and ragged-looking, curly hair standing up, Petites Cendres wondered what mysterious tragedy Herman would dig himself into this time, yesterday it was his wild ride through town on his multicoloured tricycle, now this quest for a cure, but who or what was it really for, he was always rushing headlong into disaster one way or another, had he been seeing Fabian again, nobody could absolutely prove it but he was always alone or with his cabaret friends, Geisha, Cobra, Robbie, Vanquished Heart, and he stayed inside the bar till dawn, when his noisy boot-heels clacked across the floor, hey that was quite some night, wasn’t it he said energetically, eh girls, so cool, and Robbie you really made us laugh, one more to your health ladies and then I’ll hit the road and get some sleep, you could see him side by side with Yinn, a little more easygoing with his friend, declaring once more boy our queen Yinn sure knows how to have them eating out of her hand, either that or just plain blow them away with something new, way to go Yinn, brilliant, but I mean these people that we entertain, who come to see us dance every night and get away from all their worries, do they ever give a thought to the guys that get themselves shot, hanged, or whatever, say in Iran every day, the ones who model themselves on us, our replicas but really just men like you and me, yeah hanged and shot every day, do they even think about that, otherwise Herman at times would keep all this to himself and share it later with Yinn or Robbie, maybe get their throats cut out behind some dump of a place, yeah men like you and me Yinn, and those countries are never gonna get past it, they simply follow up some war against human dignity with another one just like it to take away whatever freedom they’ve got, the first human right is to have a totally ambivalent sexual identity, and Yinn even listened to him on those languid late nights by the bar, her black bra showing through her pink transparent bodice, all the feminine attributes about to be taken off and replaced by a pair of jeans, a brilliant gold-patterned belt at his waist, white-flowered shirt knotted at the navel, you’re right it was a good night he’d say, and tomorrow please try not to get hung up in the scenery okay Herman, those boots of yours made such a racket I thought the whole set would come down, do you really have to dance in those knee-high things, why do you hide yourself like that eh Herman, then again Yinn might say nothing at all so Herman wouldn’t take offence, you never knew what was going on in his head, he measured his words carefully, you can’t really dance free when your body’s covered up that way Herman, that’s how come you scared yourself taking a tumble, for Petites Cendres realized Yinn knew there was no way he could keep tabs without Herman turning nasty, no, no way at all without him snorting like a horse, and Petites Cendres knew there was no chance of safeguarding any of them while they were still growing pell-mell like wild grass in every direction, Marcus, Herman, no two of them alike, and who could I try to reassure or protect now, not Adrien in his grief, not Julio in his exile, not even her own children and grandchildren, what really happens when a tree is uprooted under the full force of a cyclone or a tornado and propelled from its earthly home, the spirit alone remaining, yet in Daniel and Mélanie’s garden the Texas olive tree or amaryllis or silver palm, the prince of palms, so very few of them remaining, perhaps fifty species, no more than that, rose higher and higher toward the sky like giant hands with fingers spread wide, their roots at home wherever they found themselves, whether sand or salt air, as luxuriant as they were fertile, life, this is how it is shaped and articulated thought Mère, her mind’s eye seeing Mélanie and Daniel there once again, Samuel diving into the pool on a summer night, the house so bright and lively night or day, how much time had simply dissolved for her to see Samuel become a father with a child on his shoulders saying Grandmother how will we get through all this water, how Grandmother, you be our beacon, how else will we guide our boat, and she answered, as if all this were real, yes I too am skeptical of all this, of marriage, Samuel, Samuel I’ve always thought we were so much alike you and I, did you finally learn how to write properly in school, you were so unruly and you brought home exercise books filled with mistakes, that’s because I couldn’t think about anything but dancing Samuel replied, that was my purpose in life Grandmother, not learning how to write but wrapping myself in the ecstasy of dance Grandmother, that’s what you were all scolding me about, then your parents and I were very unfair to you said Mère, it was unfair of us to think you were being troublesome and distracting Samuel, and now it’s too late to repair the damage we did, the apparition of Samuel with Rudolf on his shoulders dissipated and Mère was once more unable to hold on to someone she loved, she always met Caroline in the hallway of that same darkened station, Caroline, dressed all in white, was luminous in the half-dark and she made Mère choose one of the platforms, arrivals or departures, just follow me, it may have seemed simple but it was not thought Mère, who found it difficult to walk and thus to follow Caroline to one or the other, limited in this way she kept on saying Caroline, Caroline it takes me a little while, you seem to be in such good shape, would you at least guide me so we can both visit those unknown continents, I know this will be long, even with my reading and music to accompany me, here’s where we go in to get the night train said Caroline, but Mère had already lost sight of her, it would have been better thought Petites Cendres, for Timo to be nothing more than a ghost, not that pile of remains scattered on a beach by the side of some village road in Mexico, the sailor who found him had no way of identifying the corpse of a young man lying in the wrecked hull washed up by the wharf, who was he and what brought him to this, Timo, was it Timo, if it was him the patrol boat must have collided with his before the sharks took him apart, and now the twenty-two-foot boat was washed up here against the dock and the remains looked deteriorated, nibbled, sure of course it would have been better for Timo to be nothing more than a ghost floating out over the water, no longer having to contemplate himself as one of the living, Herman wanted something from Marcus but what was it and why was he being so insistent, Marcus’s sister Louisa didn’t seem to want to give in to Herman at all, how long would it take for Yinn to step in wondered Petites Cendres, when was he going to step in for Herman under the candelabra fitted with electric bulbs over the stairway leading to the cabaret, Yinn had stopped dancing now anyway so was he about due to come down drunk from the night’s sensual heat with Jason and head toward his sewing room on the ground floor of the house, or he was still fast asleep while on the huge TV screen, just like Geisha’s and Robbie’s, a film or video was playing to no one but itself in the tropical shade cooled by the breeze from a fan, bet you could also hear the rough sighs of Yinn’s very, very old dog on the bed or in his laundry basket near the TV, bet Jason has forgotten to turn off the computer too unless of course he was planning to get back to it sometime during the night, maybe add a few decorative touches to the poster of Yinn welcoming the hordes of bikers in the streets to their cabaret, gotta make them feel welcome said Jason, they really like us and, don’t forget Yinn, they’re not as rough as they seem when they’re straddling their bikes, lots of them are professional people, well off, we need to respect them, so Jason touched up the drawing of Yinn that seemed just a shade too erotic for him, they’re bikers not strippers but you’re right Yinn, the bike is what gets eroticized, like in the poster, then possibly they might even have got up early, at least Jason and Yinn thought Petites Cendres, and were sitting side by side on the sofa watching the film unwind on the computer screen as it showed the drawing and lettering for the poster, would they still be side by side, hands and faces brushing one another in the excitement of their shared labour, so close to one another while Petites Cendres was alone under the electrified candelabra in the coarse light of early morning, or while preparing to welcome the bikers would Yinn’s fear of crowds and groups be dispelled by Jason’s clear-eyed gaze, white smile, candour, and irrepressible faith in humanity, but there in the midst of the crowd Yinn, seeing a fanatic’s picket sign that read