Aminadab 0803213131 (32 page)

BOOK: Aminadab 0803213131
7.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

my task as a domestic without the necessary tools? I really have no reason to reproach myself." The door did not close again, and he thought that the young woman had not left the room and was hesitating to pass through the doorway. There were several possibilities to consider: perhaps she had no intention of leaving and only wanted to ventilate the room; or else she wanted to chase away the intruder who had come to knock a moment ago, and she was giving a sign that she would remain loyal to her commitments. He stayed with this thought and was not surprised to hear the sound of voices. The negotiations were beginning, and they continued for a few mo ments. This prospect encouraged him; he tried to use this delay to gain a few inches by grasping onto the edge of the steps. First he reached out his arm and took hold of a piece of wood, which he pulled toward him with all his strength; he struggled tenaciously and managed to bring his head close to a round carpet covered in thick, rough hair that gave off a strong bitter smell, similar to the smell of pepper. He pressed it against his cheek and was relieved no longer to feel the cold, hard fioor. "How is the dis cussion going?" he said to himself with a certain detachment, thinking of the girl. He still heard voices, the halting and combative voice of a man, and the voice of Lucie, which sounded remarkably deep. Important inter ests were no,doubt at stake, and he followed the back and forth movement of the responses, which resembled the chaotic calls of the wind. The girl shouted to him, as though forcing him to participate in the conversation: "It's someone to visit you." Then she quickly returned, followed a few steps behind by the visitor who had been delayed by closing the door. Thomas waited until she came up next to him before worrying about this extraordinary news, but first she called to the man walking behind her, and holding his arm, she again took up her place by the desk. Thomas made a great effort to recognize this visitor, who was arriving at such a bad moment; he was a young man, strongly built, with an imposing presence, a man who held his head high and seemed to be conscious of his dignity. "I am your former companion," he said to Thomas, without giving him the time to draw his own conclusions from the examination. "Yes," the young woman interrupted, "he has come to verify that every thing is happening according to the rules." And she added, anticipating an objection: "It's the customary practice." Thomas asked him to kneel down next to him so that he could observe 1 79

him more easily and, if need be, speak to him. A great deal of negotiation was required to arrive at this result. The young man thought that Thomas was asking him to go away, and serious about his role, he refused by shak ing his head irrefutably. When he finally understood that he could recon cile Thomas's request with his assigned duties, he made up for his delay with an exaggerated haste, and as if leaning over were not enough, he lay all the way down on the floor. Thomas considered him for a moment with surprise. "You find me changed?" inquired the young man, looking annoyed. Then, so that the question would not long remain without an answer, he added: "It's quite natural. When you met me, I was coming out of a serious illness and had not entirely recovered. Now that's an old, long-forgotten story. Besides," he added in a flattering voice, "you have certainly changed as much as I have." Despite these explanations, Thomas continued to look at him all the same. He seemed like a man who later in life had undergone a phenome nal development, who had from force of thought molted and transformed into the model of vigor and strength he was bound to become one day. His scars were no longer visible, except around his mouth, which, when he spoke, lifted up toward his eyes a little. Through a mysterious association of ideas, Thomas thought about that woman seen by some to hover next to Lucie and who alone communicated with them. "If you are looking now to see if there really are any resemblances be tween me and you," said the young man, "you are making a mistake, and I must warn you about the illusion you may let yourself fall into. It is a well-known fact that when people have lived for a long time together, they come to have identical mannerisms and common expressions. But the re semblance goes no further. I advise you not to linger over these remarks, whose superficial character will not stand up to serious consideration." "Where do you live now?" asked Thomas. "I have not yet left the old room on the first underground floor," he said. "It's a temporary assignment that will be modified as soon as the tenants have re-assembled." Thomas asked another question in a weak voice, but since the young man could not understand him, Lucie had to kneel down to listen to him as well. "This is the customary practice?" repeated Thomas. 180

"It's more than that," said Lucie, "it's an obligation. The agreements we have discussed, to the extent that they are of a personal nature, must be guaranteed by a third party who oversees their execution. This supervi sion is indispensable because, with the feelings that draw us together, we would be incapable of mutually overseeing ourselves in a sufficiently rig orous manner, and from this there would result problems that must be avoided. The intervention of this young man is therefore an excellent sign; soon, nothing will stand in the way of our intimacy." The former companion thought it useful to complete the response: "My role is very important," he said. "I have the responsibility of serving as a mouthpiece for you when your weakness no longer allows you to express yourself and when there is something particularly important that you need to say. I am also supposed to facilitate your knowledge of events that you could no longer experience directly or that you seem especially inclined to misinterpret. Since no one in the house has been more closely asso ciated with your existence, I was especially suited for this role, and I hope that the way in which I carry out my duty will give you complete satisfac tion. Now," he added, turning to Lucie, "everything seems to me to have been clearly specified; would you be so kind as to take down what I say? A simple formality," he shouted for Thomas's sake. "One more word," said Thomas, as the young man was about to stand up. "The thought never occurred to me to compare myself to you, and I find that we do not resemble each other in any way at all. For me, you are only a former companion." "Really?" said the young man incredulously. "Well, then, it's all for the better. So we are all agreed and ready to begin." He quickly stood up, as if he were afraid that Thomas might have some thing more to add, and touching Lucie lightly on the shoulder, he drew her attention to the vestibule where there was something he wanted her to see. They both stood there staring in that direction. Thomas, annoyed by the silence, also wanted to look at whatever it was that so aroused their curiosity, but he only succeeded in troubling the young man. "Night is coming," said the latter. "We are only waiting for the moment to light the lamps; when the last reflections of light have faded from the furniture and the floors, we can consider the day to be over. Have a little patience, it will only be a few moments." Thomas thought that his work was not completely wasted, since the fur-

niture he had polished so well was still catching the light and prolonging the day; he said to himself, thinking of all the facets of the desk: "They are mistaken to think they will soon be done." But the two observers prob ably did not have the stamina to wait for the darkness to be complete, for it seemed to Thomas that he had hardly had the time to close his eyes and open them again, when he saw on the steps several lamps whose red light was very different from that of the twilight. They had a glass ball on top to serve as a lampshade, and on each one was inscribed short sentences that glowed from the fire. Three of these sentences struck him in particular; the first was written in gothic letters and carried these words: The lamps of love are lamps of flame; the second, more drawn than written, said: I lit up his ignorance; as for the third, it was so long that the words he read seemed to be only a small part of it, although the deciphered text needed no comple ment: The day sings praises to the day, and the night teaches knowledge to the night. These lamps shed a pleasant light, and Thomas, while remain ing convinced that they had been lit prematurely, did not ask that they be taken away, which in his opinion, he would have been right to do. But realizing that the mottoes he had just read probably had a much more im portant continuation or reply on the side facing the bedroom, he asked the young man to tell him what they were. The latter looked over at Lucie for a moment and said: "In the uppermost sections of the vaults, some of the panes of colored glass are no doubt broken and are letting the light of day pass through, for at such an hour we should be in complete darkness, whereas only the vestibule is filled completely with shadows. This is sur prising, but we can do nothing to counter this phenomenon. For as long as the night is not yet complete, you will have the right to remain in the room, and you can choose between prolonging your stay here another few moments or disregarding this unexpected delay and withdrawing to the bedroom right now. You are therefore free to decide. Nevertheless, since it is not always easy to judge the exact moment when night falls, there is every reason not to wait until the last minute, which would oblige me to act swiftly and would deprive you of the precautionary treatment that will be indispensable to you." Thomas noted with pleasure that he was not mistaken in his sense of the day's long duration. To emphasize this advantage, he said: "I wish to claim the fullest extent of my rights." "Of course," said the young man. "I cannot act against your will." 182

Lucie walked over to the lamps and bent over them with her tall thin form; Thomas thought she was going to turn the glass balls around so that he could see the other sentences, but either because the lamps hades were too hot, or because she had never intended to do this, she overlooked the desire he had expressed, and stepping past the line of light, she entered the third room. The young man did not want to remain behind; he indi cated with a few gestures that he was not responsible for the decision, and in a single stride he had climbed the two sets of stairs. But his absence was brief. If they had gone to prepare the room, their work could not have been very meticulous. Thomas said as much to his former companion, and he added: "Why was it precisely you whom they sent to me?" The young man thought about this question for a moment, then he slipped his hands under Thomas's arms and, with an abrupt movement, stood him upright, holding him tightly against himself. In this uncomfort able position, the two of them climbed the stairs; Thomas was squeezed against the chest of his guide, shoulder to shoulder, and was walking back ward, able to see only the vestibule and the room he was leaving. "Of course," he said to himself, "it is still the middle of the day," and he pro tested the abuse of which he was a victim by resisting with all his might. To his great surprise, he was less weak than he thought, and he succeeded in paralyzing his opponent by tightly clinging to him; he was the same size, his shoulders were almost as large, and he was able to prevent him from moving around by pressing hard against the steps. In the course of this struggle, he looked closely at his old companion; he tried to deter mine what resemblance there might have been between them. If there was any resemblance, it was not very striking. Perhaps his eyes were the same color, and the shape of his face might well be identical, but there were little spots here and there on his skin that made any confusion impossible. He was discouraged nonetheless by the analogy between certain features, and holding offhis resistance, he let himselfbe carried away by the young man, who took him straight to the bed and laid him down on it. "Now," he said to Thomas, "rest peacefully. I will keep watch in your place and will inform you of any important events." He drew the curtains, leaving only a narrow gap through which the room could be observed. Then, sitting on the bed, he took a piece of bread out of his pocket and ate it ravenously. Thomas, happy at first to be lying on a real bed, soon grew anxious. The bed was narrow and short, and

although its dimensions were perfectly adapted to his body, it gave him the impression of being meant for a much smaller man; there was also a large hole in the middle, formed no doubt by the thousands of bodies that had already been there, and Thomas had great difficulty keeping himself from slipping into it. The young man paid no attention to this uncomfortable position and made it even more cramped by sitting across the whole width of the mattress and gradually forcing his companion into the hollow spot that threatened to engulf him. As he ate, he said, no doubt out of polite ness: "I will always have good memories of the time we spent together. Your company was a pleasure, and I appreciated your way of living. I will reproach you with one thing only, which is that you did not follow my ad vice more closely. In my opinion, this dwelling did not suit you; you were made for life in the open air, and your organism could hardly tolerate a long reclusion in these rooms that are insufficiently ventilated, overheated, and contaminated by the frequent presence of the sick. Your bad physical condition is what hindered you in your searches, and in the end it has been responsible for your failure." Thomas merely replied: "But I have succeeded." "Most certainly," said the young man, "you have succeeded; I am not here to contradict you; but you know very well that one always succeeds and that that is not what's important. I simply wanted to point out to you that you chose the wrong path and that you would have been well advised to stay in a climate that is more appropriate to your temperament. The success you have gained, however laudable, will not leave any deep traces; it will not be recorded in the annals, believe me." "I know," said Thomas in a low voice. "And yet you were not lacking in fine qualities," the young man con tinued. "You were industrious, persevering, sensible. You made enormous efforts that should have put you in the foremost position and earned every one's esteem. I regret that all this strength was squandered." "What was I lacking, then?" asked Thomas. "You didn't recognize your own way," said the young man. "I was placed with you in order to enlighten you whenever you wished. I was like another you. I knew all the pathways of the house, and I knew which one you ought to have followed. All you had to do was ask me. But you preferred to listen to advice that could only lead to your loss." Thomas tried to remember whether he had not turned to Dom several

Other books

The Lie by Helen Dunmore
Ghost Town by Joan Lowery Nixon
The Gringo: A Memoir by Crawford, J. Grigsby
Murder in a Hot Flash by Marlys Millhiser
Until I Die by Plum, Amy
Dragon Deception by Mell Eight
Death Climbs a Tree by Sara Hoskinson Frommer
Brightness Falls by Jay McInerney
Across the Spectrum by Nagle, Pati, Deborah J. Ross, editors
Monument to the Dead by Sheila Connolly