Marlene Read online

  She had long ago realized that Richard was incorrigible, but also that he was the solid one—even if these days he seemed less reliable.

  She decided not to get up late the next morning and grimaced when she saw the weather, gray sky, windy.

  No doubt these were the last dark, chilly days before the arrival of spring. Richard wouldn’t be out for several hours, but that left little time to hope for the sky to clear, and she’d no doubt need an umbrella—praying that they’d be spared a hailstorm.

  Marlene had decided to bake a pie but she started to whine because of the blisters on her hands. So much so that Dan finally turned from the window and asked half-heartedly if he could help.

  In less than a second, she had tied an apron around his waist. His Special Forces reflexes were no longer what they had been. Mona and her mother glanced at each other in amazement.

  The evening before, at the bowling alley, Marlene had again blacked out, and if Dan hadn’t been there to catch her she would have keeled over and collapsed to the floor like a limp rag. That’s the second time I’ve come to in your arms, she’d said with a laugh, ignoring Dan’s embarrassed look as he cast about for a corner to dump her in. He stretched her out on the first bench he saw, in a clatter of bowling pins.

  Nath began to wonder, curious, concerned, whether her sister wasn’t trying to pick Dan up, whether such a thing was possible, whether she’d soon have to pinch herself.

  She looked at Dan for a moment with his apron and his rolling pin. The sky was beginning to clear when she shoved in the baking dish of lasagna she had made, the wind was chasing away the clouds, the sun hadn’t yet pierced through but was getting close.

  Setting foot outside, Richard squinted. Then he took out his sunglasses. Dan was waiting a bit farther on. They smiled, gave each other a high five, a brief hug, then Richard got into the passenger seat and they headed off. The women were waiting with a smile. Nath had invited a young couple to liven things up a bit, keep it from seeming too much like a family reunion and more like a Sunday meal among friends, and they had already had several glasses of punch by the time the couple showed up. Ralph got around in a wheelchair and Gisele was a nurse. She’d assisted with his double amputation and that’s when it had clicked between them, according to her.

  Ralph turned toward Marlene and said it was a souvenir he’d brought back from the Middle East, of a fierce battle, door to door, house to house, and anyway he’d be dead if Richard and Dan hadn’t pulled him out of there, dragged him into a building riddled with bullet holes in the mind-blowing heat. Those two were really two of a kind, he added, nodding heavily. It’s thanks to them I’m here to tell you all this, Marlene. Fire on all sides. From everywhere. Enough to drive you insane.

  She almost touched his hand but made do with a smile.

  Remarkably, the sky was now empty of the slightest cloud—this was the kind of thing that told you Richard had a lucky star. A bright sun passed by in force, like a fanfare announcing his release from prison.

  We’ve got time, he said.

  Dan glanced at him to make sure he’d heard right, but Richard looked completely serious. They’re waiting for us, Dan pointed out.

  No sweat. We won’t be long.

  Dan gave a vague shrug and turned the car in a different direction. Arguing would have been pointless. And he didn’t have to choose sides. It was their issue, not his.

  They took a detour. The owner of the Alfa was barely awake when they arrived. He hobbled down the stairs toward them in boxer shorts, with a forced smile. Hey, Richard, he exclaimed, looks like you’re back.

  Richard signaled for him to open his garage.

  They took their time. They examined the Alfa from every angle. Richard ran his fingers over the body without hiding his pleasure while the other hovered around him, the Alfa this, the Alfa that, but Richard wasn’t listening. He just exchanged a few misty-eyed glances with Dan and continued his inspection.

  Meanwhile, the others had ended up sitting down to dinner and drinking more wine, telling each other about themselves and dragging things out. The lasagna got cold on the table. Nath’s features had darkened.

  They were now an hour late and not answering their phones. She felt her blood beginning to boil. Richard’s homecoming was not getting off to an auspicious start.

  Ralph squeezed her shoulder. They’ll be here, he said. I wouldn’t get worked up about it.

  She nodded. She said that everyone should serve themselves. Ralph pushed back in his wheelchair to grab some beers from the fridge and Gisele lit a cigarette.

  Despite everything, the sun was shining outside, the trees budding.

  Dan kept to the sidelines while Richard and Alfa Man haggled over the price. The sky was now a bright blue. We’re gonna have our heads handed to us, Richard admitted once they were on their way.

  Dan nodded. She’s going to be livid, he said, eyes fixed on the road.

  BEESWAX

  During the three months he’d spent in prison, Richard had acquired the bad habit of getting up early, at the crack of dawn. No comparison with Dan, of course, who was up at four in the morning and started his exercise routine well before daybreak, in the chill of pitch-black night, summer and winter—but if that was the only way he could avoid going crazy, it was his business.

  Richard loathed discipline. Especially when it involved an alarm clock. He even hated the colors of daybreak, its insipid hues, its second-rate silence, and all the sorry poetizing it inspired; while dusk, the reddish glow of sunset, the day’s surrender, had a whole other aspect.

  Slipping into the night while your brain emptied itself with no intention of reviving, that took guts, he mused while drinking his coffee. The house was quiet, the women asleep. Especially Nath, who had given her all until two in the morning, with the devil’s own desire, a resolution that surprised him, that had taken him back years, to when their bouts were truly epic. She had rolled onto her side with a groan, saying she was dead in a barely audible voice.

  Watching the dew that formed an aureole at the bottom of the window panes and trembled in the dawn light filtering through the leaves of a flowering camellia, he thought about Marlene, that strange creature who had stood before him, who had finally taken off her glasses and thrown her arms around his neck in accordance with the laws governing relations between brother-in-law and sister-in-law, and who had seemed even spacier to him than at their last, long-ago meeting, in another city, at another time—or anyway, no better.

  In this house, he was the last to bed and the last one up, and things were not about to change. He didn’t like feeling alone, the silence hurt his ears and if it lasted too long, he had to stop himself from screaming—and there were others who were worse off, others who couldn’t hear a thing or had skulls crushed to a pulp, who sobbed like infants at the drop of a hat; he shouldn’t complain, just take some pills and roll with it. Ralph was a good example. He stood up to it even without his legs. Not very bright, but solid. Force of will.

  Richard remembered dragging him to shelter, the remnants of his legs lost under the rubble, while an explosion disemboweled a wall behind them. In complete silence, while a cloud of dust enveloped them, a shower of debris rained down on their heads. And Ralph who seemed to be yelling at the top of his lungs, mouth twisted beyond recognition, eyes full of tears, but Richard didn’t hear a thing, the sound was off. He had never lived through anything so terrifying, as if he’d been ejected out of the world, and still today it was his worst nightmare.

  It was just seven in the morning. For a moment, he thought of going back to bed. The sooner he got into a good rhythm, the sooner he’d fucking well forget about his stretch of time in the shadows—where he had gained twelve pounds, all bad fat.

  He raised his eyes toward Nath, who was crossing the kitchen in her skimpies. She stationed herself in front of the window and asked with a yawn if he’d fall
en out of bed.

  He sniggered.

  The backyard was barely emerging from the twilight in which a few thin patches of icy snow still shone, crystalline, while the horizon brightened in a sudden halo above the surrounding woods. Nath sighed. Her approaching forties were starting to make themselves felt. She moved aside to get out of the frame, eliminate her reflection in the glass.

  Richard gazed at her a moment, then glanced at his watch and decided they didn’t have time. Drop me off on the way, he said to her. As she passed by within reach, he nonetheless extended a friendly hand toward his wife’s behind, which she adroitly dodged.

  His arm was still reaching into the void when Marlene knocked on the windowpane. She was wearing a striped wool cap pulled down over her ears, and a slight white mist drifted from her mouth. He signaled for her to go around the house and went to open the door.

  In the bedroom, Nath called that she’d be out in five minutes.

  Take your time, Marlene called back, smiling at Richard, and she added for him alone, with an exaggerated wink, I’m not the one in charge here.

  They’d had a fair amount to drink the night before, and Richard had come to Marlene’s defense when Nath had criticized her sister’s alcohol consumption. The episode had elicited some tension on both sides, especially since Nath wasn’t in the habit of being a killjoy for no reason—in the end she had simply given up, kept quiet about the pregnancy, and had given Marlene a jet-black look while raising a toast to her health.

  The memory of the evening, of the conversation that had ended on the thought that people were old enough to know what was best and should mind their own beeswax, relaxed Richard. By and large, Marlene was proving less annoying than he’d feared, and if she didn’t come around too often, if she kept the necessary distance, he might be able to put up with her. And Nath would be grateful to him.

  Coming back into the kitchen, he asked if she still conked out like that.

  She vaguely shrugged. It happens now and then, she answered.

  He looked at her for a moment without saying anything, as if pondering what she’d just told him.

  Then Nath entered and they got into her car that smelled of wet dog. It was now completely light, sparrows were flitting about the sky, gathering in clusters on the power lines and bobbing together in the cool air. The radio announced fifty-seven degrees, slight wind, clear skies.

  Nath stopped at the supermarket to get gas. Richard turned around to Marlene, whose eyes had been fixed on the back of his close-shaven neck. You used to be married, didn’t you, he said.

  She drifted for a moment. Yes, once upon a time, she answered, and as Richard pensively shook his head, she added that it wasn’t worth talking about.

  I see, he replied. It’s hard to find the right person.

  He added to himself that you only needed to look around you, the old, the ugly, the wraiths leaning on shopping carts, the guys who hung around parking lots with a beer, a sandwich, and baleful eyes.

  I think I wasn’t the right person, she sighed.

  That could be too, he said.

  HEART

  Dan had spent a very bad night and had to dig deep into his reserves to finish his jog, cutting short his squats to take a double dose of aspirin. Ending the evening on Black Russians was never a good idea, but even though his skull was about to explode, he didn’t regret it. Nath had greeted them with stony silence—not so terrible, given the alternatives—and everything could still have gone south, there had been a pause, everyone’s eyes riveted on her.

  He was wondering whether he should leave when Nath walked up to them and kissed Richard full on the mouth.

  More than once, she had unnerved him; he had looked at her wide-eyed, with a hint of admiration for the feat she’d just pulled off, and when he talked to Richard about it, when he tried to make him share his awe at such marvels, Richard brushed it aside with a sweep of his hand, claiming all women had that ability in their blood. It’s called duplicity, he remarked before changing the subject.

  Dan was no expert. He didn’t devote much time to girls and wasn’t interested enough to form his own opinions about the possible duplicity of women. But that didn’t keep him from appreciating the artistry, remaining transfixed like a kid in front of a magic trick.

  Whatever the case, they had had a good time, knocked back the booze until nightfall, then gone out to buy the makings of Black Russians, and after that was a black hole.

  A cold shower partly dispelled his headache and he joined Richard, who was counting his cash in the middle of the street, in front of the bank. The weather was warm. Nath had dropped him off a few minutes earlier and they decided to get coffee before going to take delivery of the Alfa.

  Guys spun about on their stools when Richard walked in and he greeted some of them, exchanging a few words while Dan grabbed a menu and ordered a tomato juice and fried eggs. There was a time, back in the good old days, when he used to gobble them raw. He hadn’t known how to stop in time. And now things were hard.

  Sometimes atrociously hard. Especially since he couldn’t see the end of the tunnel. Richard had paused at the counter to settle a few outstanding bills and signaled that he’d have the same.

  Dan checked a phone message relaying that the motor of a pinsetter had burned out and the lane was shut down until further notice. If I were you, I’d call back quick, the caller’s voice had added. He knew. No point thinking twice about it.

  I’ll just go and come right back, he said, standing up. Richard, I’ll be back in half an hour, take your time finishing up.

  Richard frowned, hesitated, concentrated on the fried eggs shimmering in his plate, annoyed by this hitch in plans.

  Since when have you been an electrician, he went, not raising his eyes.

  Heading out of town, traffic was held up by a cattle hauler overturned in a ditch. A few calves and sheep were still struggling out, in shock, stumbling along the roadside, trying to find their way amid the bright shrubs and scattered undergrowth, bleating and lowing ceaselessly.

  He looked at his watch—a Lip he’d gotten as a free gift, along with a tablet, for subscribing to the Book of the Month Club—and sighed.

  First of all, there was no way he was sticking his hands in an electric motor. But the owner of the alley couldn’t care less about legalities, especially when it came to her employees, cleaning women, handymen, maintenance guys, and so on.

  I didn’t catch that, she answered, cupping her ear.

  Listen, I don’t know how these gizmos work.

  Didn’t they teach you anything in the army, besides how to kill people. He stared at her for a moment, speechless.

  You could hear the clack of bowling balls, their faraway drumrolls, pins flying in all directions with a sound of bamboo or castanets. If you weren’t used to it, the concert soon became unbearable, and Brigitte, the manager, didn’t spend much time there. He could see she was starting to get uncomfortable, with her grimaces and sighs, and he felt like prolonging the pleasure of watching her twist in the wind.

  But he was anxious about keeping his job. It formed part of his will to regain control, and he wasn’t going to squander all that work, all the time spent rebuilding a normal life, getting back in line; he wasn’t about to let all that go just for a small, fleeting enjoyment. Fine, since I’m here, he said, looking up at the apparently kaput motor that stank of burnt rubber. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll do my best.

  The old hag relaxed. It’s important we understand each other, she said, if you’re going to work for me.

  The minute she turned her back, he called Richard, who must have been wondering where the hell he was.

  Don’t give me your excuses, the latter cut him off in a flat voice. You let me down, fuckface.

  He tried calling back but the phone rang unanswered.

  He swore under his breath.

&
nbsp; Night was falling when Dan finished putting away his tools, looking preoccupied. Yes, he’d had some trouble with that goddam motor, but he was able to dismantle and reassemble an assault rifle in fifty-two seconds flat, defuse a landmine with a blindfold on; it’s not as if he were one-handed. A few minutes earlier, he’d put the lane back in service and Brigitte, behind the glass screen of her office, had congratulated him with a brief thumbs-up.

  He settled at the bar in front of a pale ale that he rotated between his fingers, staring at it fixedly. Now and then, a car left the road to enter the parking lot, and its headlights danced on the false laminate ceiling.

  He was about to check whether he’d heard from Richard when Marlene suddenly hoisted herself onto the next stool. Good thing you’re here, she said, leaning toward him. I can’t seem to get rid of this guy.

  He turned to the individual in question, who was hovering a few feet away, and threw him a brief glance before turning back to Marlene.

  I hope I’m not disturbing you, she said.

  He shook his head.

  Normally he wasn’t very talkative, but this business with Richard weighed heavy on his heart, and since Marlene said he looked worried and seemed ready to listen, he let himself go without giving it much thought and spoke his piece, leaving nothing out. After which, he felt better. It was almost disconcerting.

  She didn’t see what he had to blame himself for. Richard should have been more understanding, less impulsive.

  She touched his arm.

  He picked up their beers and they went out for a smoke.

  It wasn’t too cold, the air smelled good, the night was calm, and no one was expecting them. A crescent of moon rose over the distant cliffs bathed in darkness below the horizon line.

  It’s rare for it to be so warm after dark this time of year, he said. It’s funny. We’re going to have an early spring. Oh, I see what you mean. It’s so sad, really. Entire continents will disappear.