The Unknown Huntsman

by Jean-Michel Fortier

  But Leaven’s not giving up:

  “Well then, let’s call the number, now that Blanche has given it to us. We’ll find out, once and for all, whether the stranger languishing at the Station is in fact James Campbell, whether he’s a census-taker, and whether this affair is actually as resolved as they tell us.”

  He’s a tough nut, that baker! But it’s true this whole story has been dragging on for so long and has worn us all out so much that we may as well get to the deep dark bottom of it and call that number.

  “Obviously the number will no longer be in service. All the government offices have been destroyed. The line will have been cut.”

  That Blanche has all the answers, but even so, Leaven snatches up the slip of paper—he’s got some nerve—and rushes over to the telephone.

  The mayor, the priest, and the Bedford girl stare straight ahead, what strange looks on their faces, and the baker grips the phone as if he were clutching Sybille by the neck after catching her in the act of stealing a loaf, and after a minute or so, his hand relaxes and he turns around:

  “The number is no longer in service.”

  We let out a collective sigh, old Cantarini slips his arm around Mrs. Latvia’s shoulder, and for the first time in centuries the tension that usually holds her together eases. Angelina White adjusts her shawl.

  “But the fact remains we’ll never really know. We’ll never really get to the bottom of this whole story. Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”

  Leaven is talking to us all, but he may as well be talking to the wall; we’re not going to answer him, enough is enough. For once, we’re in full agreement with the priest and the mayor, it’s time to let this season—and this story—go. Once and for all!

  “Blanche, my dear, you will be so kind as to take back the Campbell children now that you appear to have returned from the dead.”

  Mrs. Latvia is hedging her bets, and in the presence of witnesses to boot, she’s back to her usual stiff, upright self, and she jabs poor old Cantarini with a well-aimed elbow. Angelina White is the only one who still looks somewhat out of sorts, she hasn’t stoked the fire once and then, in a fit of madness deserving of instant incarceration at the Station, she lets out a piercing howl.

  “You locked him up! You killed him! It’s you, the damned unknown huntsman! Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the saints. It’s you, the unknown huntsman!”

  And she points straight at us, at us, and we have no idea who she’s talking about, her voice so shrill she sounds just like Albania throwing one of her tantrums, good heavens, even the baker looks stunned, the priest crosses himself with the wrong hand, and Blanche Bedford giggles—what’s gotten into her?—then Angelina White continues:

  “Of course I spoke to the Census-taker! Lord above, he is not the huntsman, may I leap into the flames and burn to a cinder if I’m not telling the truth!”

  Mrs. Latvia quickly moves to stand in front of the woodstove to prevent her crazed friend from doing the irreparable, we grip our chair so tightly our knuckles turn white, and Mayor Gross replies:

  “Miss White, you can be sure we have all shared the same thought at one time or another. It crossed all of our minds that it could have been them, yes! But it has been decided and proven by the priest and myself that the Census-taker is, without a doubt, the unknown huntsman. He is none other than James Campbell, the secret lover of the late Lisa Campbell who came from the city to torment us, to torture us. To have created such a stir among us, he can only be an enemy of our village! My friends, my children, I’m telling you this novel must end right now. There’s no point racking our brains any longer. The light that needed to be shed on this matter has been shed. May we find peace once again.”

  He’s got some nerve, our Mayor Gross, sharing his evil thoughts out loud like that: us, the unknown huntsman! It’s utter nonsense, and merely further proof that this can’t go on any longer, that our village is on the edge of the abyss, that we must put this whole thing to rest and be done with it, done with it for good!

  The baker eyes the mayor even more dubiously, and we can tell he’s on the verge of giving him a piece of his mind, but before he can, Angelina White springs out of her chair and rushes toward the sacristy staircase, completely hysterical, she reminds us of Sybille, if you could see her, screaming “Take my census!” Goodness, the woman has lost her mind, and Mrs. Latvia comes unglued, and the mayor sprints after her, and we follow them, here we go, another race up the staircase, we push, we shove, we jostle for position, Mrs. Latvia gets trampled in the process—collateral damage—and we finally make it to the nave and the aisle, and we run as fast as we can, gasping and panting, but—horror of horrors!—the others all get to the door before us, Angelina first, and now she’s grasping the latch, turning the handle, pushing, opening, opening!

  We close our eyes and turn back. We won’t go out, no, we won’t. We wait for the silence, and when it’s time, we’ll go back down beneath the sacristy. This can end. It must end, so be it, but as for us, we shall stay inside.

  Chapter 13

  Someone has certainly killed me.

  Then slipped away. On tiptoe.

  Anne Hébert, translated by Sheila Fischman In the Shadow of the Wind (House of Anansi Press, 1983)

  English translation copyright © 1983 Stoddart Publishing

  QC Fiction brings you the very best of a new generation

  of Quebec storytellers, sharing surprising, interesting

  novels in flawless English translation.

  Available from QC Fiction:

  LIFE IN THE COURT OF MATANE by Eric Dupont

  (translated by Peter McCambridge)

  THE UNKNOWN HUNTSMAN by Jean-Michel Fortier

  (translated by Katherine Hastings)

  Coming soon from QC Fiction:

  BROTHERS by David Clerson

  (translated by Katia Grubisic)

  LISTENING FOR JUPITER by Pierre-Luc Landry

  (translated by Arielle Aaronson and Madeleine Stratford)

  BEHIND THE EYES WE MEET by Mélissa Verreault

  (translated by Arielle Aaronson)

  Visit www.QCfiction.com for details and to subscribe

  to a full season of QC Fiction titles.