Marlene

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Marlene Page 10

by Philippe Djian


  She shook him awake. I let you sleep for fifteen minutes, but we’ve got to get moving, can’t hang around here too long.

  He stepped out of the car and poured a bottle of mineral water over his head. It was already midmorning, sunny, birds were flying above the green trees, farmers tending the fields, cows wandering around a prairie. Rubbing his head with a towel, he thought about the half-baked scheme Richard had cooked up, the tears of blood they might have shed, and he congratulated himself on setting things right.

  Later, after verifying the goods, Jacky pronounced that all was cool, and that he liked that, liked a job well done, guys who did things by the book and could drive fast.

  Dan could barely stand on his feet after twenty-four solid hours at the wheel, and now that the tension was falling, that his arms and legs weighed a ton, he could only manage a weak smile when they told him the baby’s fever had dropped and was doing great thanks to him and his brilliant suggestions.

  Tell Richard we’re all square, Jacky whispered to him in the doorway. But from now on, I’ll have to do without his services. No choice. I’ve got a family too.

  Dan looked around for Julia before leaving, but she had returned to the sofa and was chewing her gum, looking away.

  A walk in the park. After the hallucinatory stretch he’d gone through, that was the only term for a simple half hour of driving calmly down a quiet, pretty road.

  Even rolling at thirty miles an hour, meeting no one, no houses, no lights, he zigzagged like a drunk—even though he’d declined a drink at Jacky’s and hadn’t taken any uppers since the night before—lurching forward, botching easy curves. It was fatigue, extreme fatigue. The near impossibility of keeping his teary, bloodshot eyes open.

  With a start, just as he was about to face-plant on the steering wheel, he braked sharply and leaped from the car, roaring to wake the dead, jumping up and down, slapping his face and thighs, shadowboxing. He reached toward one of the car’s fenders, gathered up a few drops of dew in the hollow of his palm and rubbed it over his face. It even tasted good.

  Whatever the case, he started up again on a better footing and finally the shack appeared among the branches.

  A fire was burning. It was ten-thirty; it had taken him more than an hour. He knew fatigue made you less sensitive to pain, and that was the silver lining. He got out to open the gate and when he climbed back in the car, he noticed his finger was bleeding. He hadn’t felt a thing. Sucking it, he told himself he was in the best possible shape for confronting Richard—better than rolling up into a ball.

  They were sitting around a fire. Ralph raised his arm on seeing him come up. Shit, man, he did it, he bellowed.

  Come here for a hug, you son of a bitch.

  The fire was crackling, shooting out sparks and dancing on the lake.

  Man, you should’ve seen the row he kicked up, the shit he said. He even tried to bite us, ask Gisele.

  I had to put in earplugs, she said.

  He calmed down at daybreak, Ralph continued, and had coffee. He said he had some shit to settle with you. We can stick around if you like.

  The two brothers looked at him, grinning.

  No, go get some sleep, said Dan. I’ll take over.

  They stacked more wood on the fire before leaving. The brothers skipped stones over the lake while Dan exchanged a few more words and hugs with the other two.

  Anyway, you’ll see, we’ve left him tied up, Ralph concluded. Watch yourself, but you know all that.

  He waited for the van to drive away, silence to return—one of those staggeringly majestic silences that only occur in the middle of nature—and, after wondering whether he should bring something, some alcohol or cigarettes or treats that were still lying on the back seat, he showed up empty-handed, features drawn, zombie-like, ready to suffer Richard’s bad mood.

  Seeing Dan framed in the doorway, Richard let out a dull grunt. He was sitting on the floor, bound hand and foot, green with rage. You’ll pay for this, he hissed between gritted teeth. They exchanged dark looks, then Dan turned around and shut the door behind him. Richard’s curses immediately grew distant, their message largely muffled, then abruptly stopped before Dan had even squatted near the fire. Gisele had left him a thermos of coffee and some biscuits in a Tupperware container that he was supposed to return to her when he and Richard were done. He wasn’t hungry but his stomach was empty and he munched them one by one, without appetite. The coffee, on the other hand, was a godsend. He thought sadly of Nath’s, which was thick, contraindicated for heart cases, and absolutely black.

  Can we talk now, or do I turn around and leave, he asked, standing near the door.

  Untie me.

  I’ve just covered twelve hundred miles, I’m dead on my feet, and I’m not going to fight with you.

  You’ll see. Untie me, for Christ’s sake.

  Okay, let’s get some air.

  He untied only his legs, helped him stand. Barely on his feet, Richard tried to give him a kick that ended its trajectory in empty space.

  For an instant, they stood glaring at each other.

  I’m not expecting any thanks, said Dan, but let’s try moving on to something else. Either that or I’m going to bed.

  If he’d known their argument would last until daybreak, that climbing back up that hill would be so hard, he would have brought a chair: Richard could really hold a grudge, and making him see that Dan had acted in his interest long remained an unattainable goal, a star so distant that it blinked only intermittently.

  In the gray dawn, as the last of the logs burned out, they shared a few beers and bananas and agreed to go camping here when they felt better, when the final traces of their quarrel had fizzled.

  You can drive, said Dan, handing him the keys.

  A gorgeous mirror carp leaped out of the water, then vanished with a splash.

  Did that fish smile at me or am I dreaming, thought Dan, bug-eyed.

  He returned home in early morning. He heard a voice saying, so, young Dan, back from your trip, I see.

  His heart skipped a beat. Before even lifting his eyes to the dentist, he became aware of his disheveled looks, his three-day scruff, his graveyard pallor, his ash-covered shoes—he’d made sure the fire was out while Richard gathered up the banana peels and wrappers—and he stepped into the shade. The other blinked in the dazzling sunlight. Dan patted for his keys. Say, the dentist continued in a firmer tone, I hope you haven’t forgotten.

  His stupid dog was barking for no reason.

  Never fear, Dan answered. It’s etched in my brain.

  Once inside, finally alone, in peace, an enormous weight lifted off him, he could practically have shed tears of joy.

  He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and downed a few sleeping pills just in case—his brutal nightmares could return even after two sleepless nights, or after a marathon. Then he locked his door, unplugged his phone, and got into bed without even washing, neglecting to brush his teeth. In the dark, he listened to his messages.

  There were enough from Marlene to choke a horse.

  DREAMS

  Nath was losing sleep over the thought that Vincent might never go away. The poor boy was a ticking time bomb. Nath woke up worried and went to bed anxious—it couldn’t go on. She was in danger of giving herself away, somehow letting the cat out of the bag, forgetting a detail, talking in her sleep.

  He was becoming so clingy. She’d been weak enough to let him stay one evening after closing time because he claimed he was going crazy, was going to kill himself if he could no longer smell her, touch her, lick her breasts, etc., and she’d felt pity, her female heart had taken pity on him, she had let him come in and had given herself to him on the table where they treated the animals, and he had knocked over a tub of shampoo that had made the floor slippery and she had started to come violently, to tremble, without really being able to id
entify the cause of that long tremor that coursed through her body, the kind that happened so rarely, but the fact was, now she was paying the price for her slip, she should never have done that, she had lost her head, and she had gotten home late, cheeks on fire, and had benefited from an incredible stroke of luck because Richard wasn’t back yet.

  Dan had promised to take care of it and she was waiting for him in a local bar.

  She had had only a few inconsequential dalliances in eighteen years of marriage and had never encountered this kind of problem; the guys faded away at daybreak and she forgot their names a moment later. It was simple and easy. With Vincent, it was neither.

  Dan arrived bang on time. It was nice out, April was making with some truly glorious days and he pulled up a chair in the sun.

  I don’t want you to hurt him, she said.

  What exactly do you want me to do. I promised to trim that moron’s hedges, which’ll keep me busy all weekend. And I’m taking Mona to see Pride and Prejudice. I loved the book.

  I want you to tell him to be sensible, that I’m a married woman and I have a life. Tell him I love my husband, that’s all you have to say. Tell him I love my husband.

  That I’d like us to part as friends.

  Should be okay. I’ll try to find a moment. I doubt it’ll take long. Unless he gets pissy with me.

  He won’t. You’re a head taller than he is.

  And I’ve learned how to kill.

  Oh, and also tell him not to bring in his dog anymore.

  There are other grooming salons. He just stands there staring at me, and the other clients stare at him, and half those women are spiteful and pregnant to the eyeballs and then they stare at me.

  You know, some small guys are stronger than tall ones.

  But got it, no more dog.

  I will say he’s pretty fit, not an ounce of fat on him. I forgot about yoga. He can’t wait for me after class anymore, not even on the corner. Especially when I’m with a girlfriend.

  I’ll have him tie a string around his finger.

  Talk to him. Tell him what you have to say calmly. He doesn’t listen to me because I’m a woman. You he’ll listen to. Just scare him a little, like when you don’t smile.

  Watching Dan head off, she reflected that she and Richard had tried to marry him off half a dozen times before giving up and that he’d make a good husband if he weren’t such a loner, if there weren’t that double-bolted door way down inside him.

  She found Marlene in the salon, in her underwear in the back room. She was about to put on her smock and was examining herself in profile in the full-length mirror.

  You can still get by, but it’s starting to show, Nath told her. Put on your glasses.

  She had a new pair, round with fine steel rims that looked pretty good on her, according to most people, but they must not have been in her prescription and they left her blinded to the obvious. Still, arguing got you nowhere, thought Nath with a resigned shrug. They just had to wait—sooner or later, whether Marlene liked it or not, she wouldn’t be able to hide it any longer.

  The latter put on her smock and examined herself again in the mirror, tightened the garment, inspected her profile.

  Really, there’s no rush, she declared. Let me breathe.

  I’m just starting to feel at home here, with all of you. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. And it’s all thanks to you, it’s wonderful, you don’t know how badly I needed that.

  An old surge of affection for her impossible sister rose in Nath’s heart, and she gave a hint of a smile.

  I’m glad you’re here too. I wasn’t sure, you know. I wondered if you could get used to the climate, the atmosphere, the locals, all of it, because it’s a bit peculiar here, a little closed off, if you know what I mean. One could just as easily not like it, it’s not always a barrel of laughs, there’s that stench of war and muted anxiety that’s never far away, you have to get used to it, but you’ve adapted well, everyone loves you, me first and foremost, you know that, you know me, I’m not always in the best mood, you know me, she said, putting on her outfit as well.

  She sometimes wondered if she’d been too hard on her sister in the past. But she didn’t forget that Marlene had also asked for it.

  She grabbed a cat in its cage and started cleaning its ears while Marlene took out the tools and products for sale.

  At the idea that Dan would take things in hand, Nath felt reassured, a tiny bit regretful but calmer, and when her eyes again fell on her sister who was quietly flipping through the appointment book—daylight haloed her in a lovely powdery copper—she felt closer to Marlene than she would have expected.

  She wasn’t displeased. It was a good thing, wasn’t it. It was fun having a sister. Not a daughter, not a friend, but a sister. For a while, she had completely forgotten about this bond. There had been a few hiccups at first. Marlene had arrived like the proverbial bull in a china shop, it had been hard going for at least two months, but there, that morning, oblivious to the cat whining in her hands, she felt a soft, warm rain on her head, as if a soap bubble had burst over her.

  And so she ended up saying, you know, that guy, yeah, the one with the dog, you must have wondered, well yes, he’s the one, there, I’m getting rid of him, so that’s it, you’ve been taken into my confidence, so be super careful, darling, you don’t know anything, aren’t aware of anything, haven’t seen or heard anything.

  You called me darling.

  Yes, I know. No big deal. I used to call you little darling when we were kids. It’s only later that we didn’t get along so well. We were too different. And then Richard came along and we went our separate ways. It’s been quite a gap. How funny that we’ve come together again after all this time. When we used to talk on the phone, I hardly recognized your voice. I’m ashamed to admit it.

  I’m not the one who moved out.

  Yes, of course I know it wasn’t you. Let’s not start that again. Richard enlisted and I followed him, that’s all, there’s no more to it than that. Nothing more to be said. But you know, there’s an age when you’re so focused on yourself that you don’t see anyone else.

  And now you see me.

  Of course. Why else would I worry about you. The hardest thing here is not being black or Arab or Chinese; the hardest thing is to be a woman on her own.

  Either you become easy prey or you stay home and climb the walls. That’s why I slept with that guy, he came on to me in a bar, and now he’s chasing after me, but it serves me right. Of course I’m upset about it. I wish he’d just leave me alone.

  For a moment, their attention was distracted by some nut running naked in the parking lot—there were all sorts of drugs around, you had no idea what shit people were taking.

  If you knew how anxious I was before coming here, Marlene began. I had nothing left. When I say he threw me out, I mean he literally took my things and flung them out the window. I couldn’t look at another man, he went crazy with jealousy, there was nothing I could say to him. I went through total hell with him.

  I wanted to send a few guys to teach him a lesson but you refused, and I still don’t know why. I mean, there are limits. You don’t throw a pregnant woman out in the street. You just don’t do that. You have to have a smidgen of human dignity.

  No, I want to forget about him, that’s all. I’ve already forgotten him. I never want to see him again. This child is never going to know its father’s name.

  Yeah, that’s a good plan. I don’t know if it’s really possible, but it’s a good plan.

  Did I tell you he tried to get me locked up. He didn’t miss a trick. But I don’t want to get my hands dirty. It would mean giving him more importance than he deserves. It was another lifetime.

  They had to interrupt their conversation for a pair of Bichons that had rolled in dust and chewing gum. Nath sent Marlene to buy some peanut butter. Alone
, she reflected that in less than an hour they’d made up for a good portion of those twenty lost years, and feeling lighter, if a bit doubtful, she began running the spray over the two filthy Bichons.

  Finding a good man at a dance was all but impossible.

  At a gala evening thrown by the army, it was the best they could hope for. Nath had no intention of joining in, but she was curious to watch Marlene do her thing, see how she behaved with men, amid those testosterone-addled soldiers squeezed into their uniforms, who couldn’t dance.

  It was funny. As a teenager, Marlene had been hot stuff, guys got into her pants pretty easily, and Nath had resented her for that, for the degrading image, but now it was funny to see her so well behaved, sticking to the company of women—cloistered as if in an invisible pen, hair in buns, arms bare, most of them married, hesitant, terrified of life—funny to see her so indifferent to the men surrounding her, so unconcerned by the game of seduction, with so little appetite.

  She hoped Marlene would keep giving her such pleasant surprises, that adulthood had finally calmed her down and that finally she’d no longer make Nath ashamed; that Nath would no longer be embarrassed to be seen with her sister, that she could introduce her to friends and sign her up for her yoga class. Two sisters who got along well were a mighty force. Nath discovered how much she had missed it. She almost forgot the discomfort of her high heels, the abominable music, the ghastliness of these straight-laced affairs, all those medals, those absurd buffets, so conventional. She watched her sister until Dan came over to ask for Vincent’s address and tell her he was planning to visit him the next day, late afternoon, but first he had to trim that idiot dentist’s hedges before the man had an infarction.

  The uniform looked good on him. Here was someone who knew how to iron a shirt and crease a pant leg. He, too, looked over at Marlene, who was chatting with the colonel’s wife and the wife of his aide-de-camp. She should find herself someone, don’t you think, said Nath. Maybe we should help her find someone.

 

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