And then I had a nightmare… Deep in the bottom of my sleep I was fighting with the old bag!… She was having things her own way… I broke loose… She grabbed me again… What a battle!… What a ruckus!… I couldn’t disentangle myself… The noise was awful!… She had me in a drowning man’s grip!… She was cracking my head with her questions… I tried to shake her off, to cover up with straw… but the bitch was holding me, she latched onto my head!… And she yelled!… And she bellowed!… She twisted my ears in her fists!… She wouldn’t let go… Where was her Courtial? she yelled in all fifteen keys!… She’d just come back from the kitchen… she’d wanted some coffee… There wasn’t a drop left!… So she’d started raising hell!… Everything was empty!… He’d swilled it all up, the swine!… Every last cup, the three coffee pots, all by himself!… Before going out… Hadn’t he said anything to me? She kept at me…
“No, no! Not a word!…”
“Which way did he go?…” Had I seen him in the yard?…
“No!… No!…” I hadn’t seen a thing!… Mésange jumped up with a bang and started blubbering… She’d had a crazy dream!… She’d seen the boss, Courtial, riding on an elephant!… This was no time to fall for such bullshit… We tried to remember what he’d said that evening… He’d eaten enough for a regiment!… We remembered that… Maybe he’d been sick… maybe he’d passed out… It was mighty cold out there… We started listing the possibilities!… A stroke?… We didn’t waste any time, we went looking for him with the kids!… We searched all through the straw… every corner of the house… the outbuildings, the two barns… and the experiment shed… He wasn’t anywhere… We went out across the fields… the immediate vicinity… and then a little farther… Some went up toward the hillside, searching every gully and clump of trees… The rest combed the plateau like they were picking berries!… We sent out Dudule’s dog… No hair or hide of Courtial!… We reassembled… We searched the little woods, bush by bush… He often went roaming around through there… Just then one of the kids noticed something written on the big panel of the front door… “Good luck! Good luck!” in chalk… in big capital letters… That was his handwriting all right…
At first the old lady couldn’t make head or tail of it… She kept mumbling: “Good luck! Good luck!” She couldn’t stop…
“What does it mean?… Why, good Lord! Why, he’s shoved off!…” Suddenly it hit her between the eyes. “Say, who does he take me for!… Heavens above!… Good luck!… What’s that again? Good luck? He wishes me… good luck?… He says that to me?… Say… that’s stinking! Oh!” She was outraged… absolutely furious!…
“Why, it’s monstrous!… His Highness shoves off!… He steps out!… He takes a little trip… His Highness trots off to town for a binge! The skunk! The scoundrel! The no-good!… Good luck and that’s that!… And I’m supposed to shut up and like it!… So the eight ball’s all for me, is that it?… So I’m knee-deep in shit?… Well, climb on out, you old bag!… Just shake your arse! And good luck!… And I’m expected to take it lying down!… What do you say, Ferdinand? What do you think?… Of all the rotten stinking gall!…”
The kids were doubled up listening to her raving!… I didn’t want to stoke up the fire!… I let her cool off some… But I say to myself inside… “The poor bastard was sick of us!… He was fed up of farming too!… He’s cleared out fast and far… We won’t be seeing him again so soon!…” That was my hunch… I remembered some of the things he said… They pinched me hard… Sure he talked a lot of bullshit… But maybe all the same he’d finally gone through with his Great Decision… the skunk… leaving us to sink… up to our necks in shit… That was his way… He was plenty underhanded, vindictive, deceitful… worse than thirty-six bears… It was no surprise to me… I’d always known it… “The details are unimportant!… They clutter up our lives!… Decision is what counts!… The Great Decision, Ferdinand! The Great Decision!… You hear me?…” I heard him!… It was all a lot of gas!… But suppose he’d really cleared out once and for all!… Wouldn’t that be stinking!… Wouldn’t that be low-down!… How were the rest of us going to get out of this mess? The old lady was dead right!… What could we do with this telluric junk?… Not a thing!… If they all came around accusing us of stinking up the whole earth… what would we have to say for ourselves?… We’d be out on our arse!… He with his glib tongue… maybe he could bamboozle the cannibals… maybe he could spellbind them!… But us?… We didn’t have a chance.
* * *
We were knocked for a loop… We tried to figure it out… Gradually the old lady calmed down… The kids searched the joint again… They went up in the loft. They turned over all the hay… Will he come back?… Won’t he come back?… That was the chorus.
In Blême he didn’t have his cellar to hide in like at the Palais-Royal… Maybe he hadn’t gone far… Maybe it was just some fool idea… A little spell of lunacy… Where would we and the kids go if he didn’t come back at all?… What with thinking it over, the old girl began to feel more optimistic… She told herself that it couldn’t be… he had some heart after all… it was just some idiotic trick… he’d be back soon… We began to take hope… for no good reason… except there was nothing else to do…
The morning was getting along, it must have been about eleven… The lousy postman shows… I saw him first… I was looking out the window kind of… He comes up… He doesn’t come in… He just stands outside the door… He motions me to come out… he’s got something to tell me… I should hurry… I beat it out… He’s waiting under the arch, he whispers to me, he’s all excited…
“Quick, quick! Go see your old man!… He’s down there on the road, after you cross the Druve… on the way up to Saligons!… You know the little wooden footbridge?… That’s where he is, he’s killed himself!… The farmers at Les Plaquets heard him… Jeanne Arton and the kid… It was just after six o’clock… With his gun… the big one… They said to tell you… So you can take him away if you want to… I haven’t seen a thing, understand?… They haven’t either… They heard the shot, that’s all… Say, here are two letters… They’re both for him…” He didn’t even say goodbye… He beat it along the wall… He hadn’t taken his bicycle, he cut across the fields… I saw him coming out of the woods by the road up top, the one that goes to Brion.
* * *
I whispered the whole story in her ear… so the kids wouldn’t hear… She made one bound to the door!… She ran out full tilt… She raced over the gravel… I didn’t even have time to finish… I had to quiet the kids down… They suspected a disaster…
“Don’t get excited!… Don’t show your mugs outside!… I’m going to catch the old bag!… You keep on looking for Courtial!… I’ll bet he’s still here… hidden somewhere!… He hasn’t gone up in smoke!… Turn over all the straw… bale by bale!… He’s sleeping underneath!… We’re going to see the cops in Mesloirs… they’ve sent for us!… That’s what the postman came about… We won’t be long… Don’t shit in your pants!… Stay right here and keep quiet!… We’ll be back by two… Don’t let them hear you from outside!… Don’t go out!… Search the loft!… Take a look in the stable!… We didn’t look in the bins!…”
The kids were scared stiff of the cops… That way I knew they wouldn’t trail me!… They smelt a herring all right… but where?… They had no idea…
“Keep the doors closed whatever you do!…” I told them… I tried to locate the old lady out of the window… She was already miles away!… I shook a leg… I had a hell of a time catching her… She was cutting across field and forest at full speed!… Well anyway, I followed her… Hell, it took all I had just to keep her in sight!… All the same I put my thoughts together… I’m running like blue blazes!… And in the fever of the chase a rotten suspicion comes up in me… “Hell!” I say to myself. “What a business!… You’re a sucker again, kid! It’s a frame-up!… A swindle!… That stuff about the footbridge!… Nuts!… It
’s a big hoax!… A stinking lie!… A sinister trap, that’s all!” I strongly suspected it!… A crummy trick of the postman’s!… It was just like him, the stinker!… And all those cannibals!… I wouldn’t put it past them. That’s what I was thinking in the middle of running… And where was our old man at that exact moment?… While we were breaking our necks running after his corpse?… Where could he be? Maybe he was only at the Big Ball… playing cards and sopping up anisette!… We were the suckers again!… I wouldn’t put it past him!… It didn’t take a suspicious nature to know him for a mean sly bastard!… We were the fall guys… That was clear!…
After a long level stretch through soft fields, there was a steep climb up the hillside… Up top you discovered the whole countryside so to speak… The old lady and I were puffing like oxen. We sat down for a second on the bank to see better… The poor old thing’s eyesight wasn’t very good… But mine was really piercing… You couldn’t hide a thing from me twenty kilometres away as the crow flies… From up top there… all the way down the slope… the Druve flowing at the bottom… the little bridge and then the bend of the road… That was the place, I could see it plain as day… right in the middle of the road, kind of a big bundle… I was dead sure!… Maybe three kilometres away it stood out against the gravel!… And right that minute, the second I saw it, I knew who it was!… By the frock coat!… The grey one… and the rusty-yellow trousers… We beat it lickety-split… We ran down the hill… “Keep on going!” I said… “Go straight ahead! I’m going to turn off!… I’ll take the path!…” It was a big short cut… I was there in no time… Right on the spot… Two steps away… He was all shrunk… all shrivelled up in his trousers… It was him all right!… But the head was a mess!… He’d blown it all to hell… He’d hardly any skull left… Point-blank!… He was still holding his gun… He was hugging it in his arms… The double barrel went in through his mouth and passed straight through his head… It was like hash on a skewer… shreds, chunks and sauce… Big blood clots, patches of hair… He had no eyes at all… They’d blown out… His nose was wrong side out… nothing but a hole in his face… all sticky around the edges… and plugged up in the middle with a lump of coagulated blood… a big mash… and trickles oozing all across the road… It was flowing mostly from the chin, which was like a sponge… Even in the ditch there was blood… puddles in the ice… The old lady took a good look… She just stood there… She didn’t say boo!… So then I decided to do something… “We’ll move him up on the bank…” I said… The two of us went down on our knees… First we tug at the bundle… We try to dislodge it… We tug a little harder… I pull on the head… It wouldn’t come loose!… We weren’t getting anywhere!… It was stuck too solid… Especially the ears were welded fast!… The whole thing made a solid block with the ice and gravel… We could have unfastened the trunk and the legs by pulling hard enough… But not the head!… The hash… It was one solid brick with the stones on the road… It couldn’t be done… The body bent crooked like a Z… the head impaled on the gun barrel… First you’d have to straighten him and get the gun out… His back was all bent, his arse was wedged between his heels… He’d spasmed as he fell… I looked around… I see a farm down below… Maybe that was the one the postman had mentioned… Les Plaquets… I say to myself: “That’s it… that’s the place all right!…”
“Hey, you stay right here!…” I tell the old witch… “I’m going to get help!… I’ll be back in a minute!… They’ll give us a hand!… Don’t move!… That must be Jeanne’s farm… They’re the ones that heard it.”
So I come up to the house… First I knock on the door, then on the shutters… Nobody seems to notice… I try again… I double back to the stables… I go right into the yard… I knock… I knock some more!… I yell… Still no sign of life!… But I could feel there was somebody around!… The chimney was smoking!… I shake the door with all my might… I tap, I clatter on the window panes… I’ll tear the shutters down if they don’t come… And then a face peeps out after all!… It’s the Arton kid… by a first marriage… He’s not taking any chances… He just barely shows himself… I tell him what I want… Could they give me a hand carrying him?… Just those few words send her sky-high… She won’t allow it… she comes to life… She wouldn’t even think of touching it!… She won’t even let her lousy brat answer me… She won’t even let him go out!… He’s going to stay right there with his mother!… If I can’t get him off the road, why don’t I call the police?… “That’s what they’re there for!…” The Artons aren’t going to get mixed up in this… not for anything in the world… They haven’t seen a thing… or heard anything!… They don’t even know what I’m talking about!…
Old lady des Pereires up there on the embankment watched me parleying!… She let out terrible screams… She was making a disgusting stink… That was the way she was… After the first shock you couldn’t hold her!… I pointed her out to the two savages… the poor woman in despair!…
“Do you hear that?… I suppose you can’t hear her?… Her terrible grief!… We can’t leave her husband out there in the muck, can we?… What are you afraid of?… Good God, it’s not a dog!… He hasn’t got rabies!… It’s not a calf!… He hasn’t got foot-and-mouth disease!… He’s killed himself and that’s that!… He was perfectly healthy… He hasn’t got the glanders!… The least we can do is shelter him in the barn for a while!… Till they can come and take him away!… Before the traffic starts up… They’ll run him over!” Those shitheels were adamant!… The more I tried, the more pig-headed they got… “No, no!…” they yelled! Certainly not, they wouldn’t take him in!… Not on their property!… Never, never… They wouldn’t even open the door for me… they told me to beat it… They were burning me up… So I says to this rotten bitch:
“All right, all right! That’ll do, Madame! I see!… You won’t help. That’s your last word? You’re sure? All right, it’s your arse! In that case I’m going to stay right here! That’s right!… I’ll stay a week! I’ll stay a month! I’ll stay as long as I have to!… I’ll yell until they come!… I’ll yell so everybody can hear me, I’ll tell them it was you!… That you engineered the whole thing!…” That got them… Christ, were they scared!… They were shitless!… And I went right on!… I wasn’t going to stop!… Those scum made me so angry I’d have thrown an epileptic fit to show them!… They didn’t know how to make me shut up… The old lady up on the bank was shouting louder and louder… She told me to hurry… “Ferdinand, hey, Ferdinand!… Bring hot water!… Bring a sack! A cloth!…” The only thing those two bastards were willing to do… in the end after my song and dance and to make me let go of their blind… was lend me their wheelbarrow on condition that I’d positively bring it back that same day… rinsed, cleaned!… And scrubbed with bleach!… They said it over and over… They repeated it twenty times!… So I toted the thing up the hill… I had to come back down to ask for a trowel… to pry the ear loose… to break up the lumps… Little by little we made it… But then the blood began to gush again, it flowed profusely… His flannel vest was one big jelly, a pudding inside his frock coat… the grey was all red… But the worst was getting the gun out… The barrel stuck so hard to the enormous plug of meat and brains… it was so completely wedged into the mouth and skull… that it took the two of us… She held the head on one end and I pulled at the butt on the other… When the brain let loose, it gushed out even harder… it dripped down sideways… steaming, it was still hot… a stream of blood spurted from the neck… He’d impaled himself completely… He’d fallen on his knees. He’d collapsed like that… with the barrel deep in his mouth… He’d stove his whole head in…
Once we got him loose, we turned him over on his back… belly and face up… but he folded again! He was still like a Z… Luckily we managed to squeeze him in between the sides of the wheelbarrow… We still had trouble though with the neck, the stump of the head… It kept dangling against the wheel… The old girl took off her pet
ticoat and her heavy kilt… to bundle up his head in… so it wouldn’t drip so hard… But the minute we started moving again, with the bumps and jolts, it started gushing thicker than ever!… They could have followed our tracks… It was slow going… we took little short steps. I stopped every two minutes… Those seven kilometres took us at least three hours… I saw the gendarmes way in the distance… or rather their horses… right outside the farm… They were waiting for us… There were four of them plus the sergeant… And besides there was one in civilian clothes, a big guy I didn’t know… I’d never seen him before… We were crawling… I wasn’t in any hurry at all… But we finally got there… They’d seen us coming… all the way down from the ridge… They must have spotted us even before we went into the woods…
“OK! Leave the wheelbarrow in the doorway, you little stinker! This way, both of you!… The inspector’ll be here in a little while… Put the handcuffs on him! And her too!…” They shut us up in the barn. One of the cops guarded the door.
* * *
We waited several hours in the hay… I could hear the mob collecting in front of the farm. The village was crowding up!… They were pouring in from all directions… Some of the hicks must have been right there under the arch… I could hear them talking… The inspector hadn’t come yet… The sergeant came and went, getting angrier and angrier… He was making a show of activity while waiting for the orders… He was dishing out orders to his men…
“Push back the crowd! And bring me the prisoners!…” He’d already questioned all the kids… He had us brought in to him and then he sent us back to the barn… After a while he hauled us out for good… The bastard browbeat us!… He was overzealous… He threw his weight around, trying to terrorize us!… Probably so as to make us talk… so we’d confess right away!… He had another thing coming!… He said we had no right to tote the body around! That was a felony in itself!… We shouldn’t have touched it!… It was doing fine on the road!… That now he wouldn’t be able to make his report!… What do you think of that? And that twenty-five years in the pen would teach us a thing or two! Hell! That boy didn’t like us!… Anyway, the worst kind of bullshit! A lot of stupid cocksucking bellowing!…
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