Marlene

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Marlene Page 7

by Philippe Djian


  At the same instant, Dan’s phone rang in his pocket.

  Oh, excuse me a moment, he said, taking the call.

  Nath was ringing from the hospital. Mona had gone into anaphylactic shock when they got home, because of her wasp sting. They’d had the fright of their lives but it was all okay now, they were just keeping her under observation for a few more hours.

  Just one thing, though, the cops have taken Richard away, she added.

  He didn’t answer, but bent forward with a grimace as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

  When he arrived at the hospital and went to Reception to ask for Mona’s room, he was treated to a disdainful glance from the duty nurse.

  Are you another nutjob, she asked distrustfully.

  No, not that I know of, he said.

  Nath was leafing through a magazine that she rested on her knees when he walked in. She put a finger to her lips and indicated that Mona was asleep. They went out to the hallway and he briefly hugged her. She was pale, tired, happy he was there. They headed over to the coffee machine while she reassured him again about Mona’s condition: according to the intern on call, she’d merely suffered a large local reaction. But it never failed, she sighed, Richard still managed to get into it with him and things turned ugly, it had to come out one way or another. I’ll spare you the details, she said with an evasive gesture. And how’d it go with the two of you, everything okay.

  We didn’t stay out late. We were beat.

  She didn’t try to find out any more, visibly uninterested.

  In fact, she had other things on her mind. She hadn’t gotten rid of Vincent, who refused to move on—the jerk was still bombarding her with texts that alternated between pleas and threats, which she didn’t answer, and had outdone himself over the last few hours, a regular avalanche. It was really getting worrisome. She even wondered, after not getting a wink of sleep even though her daughter was out of danger, whether she should confide in Dan to get his thoughts. She couldn’t make up her mind. She had absolute confidence in him. Or at least, up to a certain point. She knew he’d cut off an arm for her. But for Richard, he’d cut off both.

  Mona opened one eye when they returned to her room. She stared at Dan for a few seconds and declared she was hungry. Her face was a bit puffy. Yeah, okay, let’s see what you’d look like, she said.

  He went back into the hallway to let her get dressed. He noticed a laundry bin near the window overlooking the parking lot and briefly flirted with the idea of chucking in Marlene’s panties, which reminded him of their presence whenever he dug his hand into his pocket—like several minutes earlier, when he wanted change for the coffee machine. The Alfa was parked down below, in the shadow of a bamboo partition covered with two-toned climbing ivy. In the distance, past the army barracks, you could see the twinkling of the pond and the skeleton of an old wind pump repurposed into a diving platform.

  They hadn’t intended to dawdle, but Mona felt like a burger, and as they didn’t want to refuse her after her brush with death, they stopped off at the bowling alley cafeteria and watched with patience and indulgence as she wolfed down her food.

  Two mistakes. The first was the choice of venue, given that as far as the owner was concerned, there was no such thing as off-hours when it came to serving the business that one was lucky to work for, especially if one wasn’t management. He knew this. He knew it, but like the others he hoped he could run between the raindrops, and so frequented the place much too often, given the lack of better distractions.

  So, how was your date, Mona asked, mouth half full, shooting him a look from underneath.

  Nath had left the table to take a call from Richard, who was finally resurfacing, and it was no doubt the moment Mona had been waiting for to pop her question.

  What date, what are you talking about, he groused. We went to the movies. I don’t call that a date. Don’t muddle things up.

  Oh, call it what you like, I don’t care. So how was your movie, tell me.

  He looked at her a moment and took a deep breath.

  All right, here goes, he announced. We started by doing it in the front seat. Not very practical, but manageable.

  Then we moved onto the back seat. Then I got the bright idea to lower the seat backs and we started up all over again, like animals. And don’t forget that the film lasts more than two hours.

  She shrugged. She asked if he thought he was being funny.

  I’m not trying to be funny, he answered.

  The second mistake was going off with the guy who had come looking for him about a problem with a pinsetter drive chain that was running slack and threatening to snap.

  At least it let him cut short this stupid conversation with an eighteen-year-old girl whose godfather he was and whom he had bounced on his knee. He stood up without a moment’s hesitation and crossed the cafeteria. Feeling grumpy, he stopped at the bar for a drink, which he considered necessary after the morning’s events. From the sound of it, there was no urgency. A few bowls, some laughs drifting over from the lanes.

  He recognized the woman’s. He downed his drink in one gulp and sat there thoughtfully for a few seconds while the woman continued to giggle.

  Marlene stopped laughing when she saw him coming.

  A young dude was holding her close, vaguely occupied with teaching her the rudiments of the game—although he apparently had another game in mind, especially since she seemed relatively amenable.

  Dan continued on his way as she called after him and slipped out of her partner’s embrace to go join him.

  She gave him a large, embarrassed smile, her cheeks flushed.

  I thought, well, I thought you’d call me, she stammered.

  Don’t worry about me, I just came to fix something, he said. I think somebody’s waiting for you.

  She glanced briefly at the young dude who was caught short and visibly crumbling not far away.

  Dan, let’s get out of here, she said.

  Mona’s with me. Go finish your game.

  Please, she insisted, lowering her eyes.

  You’re pretty thickheaded, he said, walking away; then he retraced his steps and discreetly gave her back her panties without another word.

  Later he saw her again, sitting with Mona, Nath, and Richard, who were waiting. The latter was recounting a hornet attack they’d suffered in Yemen during the extraction of pilots who had bailed out in the mountains and he called on Dan to back him up.

  Telling the same stories over and over, wearing them down to the nub, puffing them up, trading them, ruminating them among themselves was one of a veteran’s main occupations and you just had to go with it. Two or three guys had drawn closer to listen to Richard while Dan nodded, taking care not to make eye contact with Marlene, who stared at him almost constantly. He needed to pee but held it in, afraid she’d follow him when he had nothing to say to her. He just wanted to go home and put everything back in its place, throw his sheets in the laundry, and trim his hedges.

  The afternoon progressed, the sky took on lilac hues.

  He was now wondering how he’d manage to avoid bringing her home when everyone stood up, but she announced that she thought she’d stick around a bit longer, and since Richard had gotten his car back, Nath offered to let her sister have hers until the next morning. And so, he said to himself, having found his smile, you should never lose hope, never think all is lost.

  Trimming his hedges took him a good hour, when others would have needed twice as long, but he was behind on his exercising and he dove into the operation with liberating ardor and intense concentration, sweating blood and water while evacuating all sorts of inopportune thoughts, worrisome reflections, insidious images; and when he examined the result of his labors, blinking and mopping his brow, exhausted, his T-shirt soaked, covered head to foot in vegetal dust and crumbs, not a single goddam leaf stuck out, not a single g
oddam shrub was out of line. To the point where the dentist began whistling from his yard.

  Holy cow, Dan, that’s some nice work. How much would you take me for to do mine.

  Nothing.

  What do you mean, nothing.

  I mean nothing, not a cent.

  Great. In that case, I’ll trade you a cleaning.

  He wife had come outside behind him, a slightly chalky blonde who seemed to be shivering internally and whose voice he’d never heard. She gave him an imperceptible nod, head lowered.

  By now, day was waning. Dan gathered up the detritus and compacted it in bags, crimped shut the last one at dusk. He took a shower, then spent another good moment tidying up the bedroom, which he inspected with a final glance before going outside, glass in hand, pleased with his accomplishment. The moon had risen, the air was thick with the aroma of freshly cut grass, the hedge shone in ecstatic suffering, there reigned an absolute calm. He was about to light a cigarette when, distractedly surveying his immediate surroundings, his blood froze. He nearly choked when he discovered Nath’s car parked a bit farther up the street, lights off.

  Marlene. Marlene, of course. But what could that woman have in her noggin, he wondered, approaching the target with the stealth of a Sioux, furtive and bent over despite the darkness.

  Taken by surprise, she jumped when he slid in beside her.

  What the hell are you doing here, he said, grabbing her arm. What is this, some kind of joke.

  You scared me. You’re hurting me.

  He let go, irritated, without taking his eyes off her. You can’t do this, you hear me. You can’t just show up like this, goddammit.

  At those words, she turned into a rag doll and slumped over in her seat. Her head banged against the steering wheel.

  When she came to a few minutes later, she was in his house, lying on the living room couch that was still in shadow. The drapes had been carefully drawn shut. She heard him moving utensils about. She put one foot on the ground and tried to stand, a bit unsteadily. For an instant, she saw a herd of zebras scampering away in a cloud of yellow sand like gold dust.

  Feeling better, he asked in a neutral voice, framed in the lit rectangle of the kitchen doorway. Have to get used to your thing there. I’ve made coffee.

  I’ll be going.

  What difference will five more minutes make. Sit down.

  You wouldn’t want the same thing to happen again.

  Barely recovered, she hesitated, looked around her, then obeyed while he set the coffee on the low table and sat down next to her.

  I’m so sorry.

  You take sugar.

  No, thank you.

  The atmosphere wasn’t great, but the tension had dropped.

  I’m really sorry. I feel so ridiculous.

  You have to understand one thing, he said, leaving the sentence unfinished.

  Excuse me, which way’s the bathroom.

  He stood up and went to the window, waiting for her to return. With one finger, he pulled the curtains apart a couple of inches and cast an eye outside. All in all, he wasn’t too worried, it was highly unlikely anyone had seen them: she wasn’t very heavy, he had run hunched over, it had lasted barely ten seconds, a cloud had passed in front of the moon.

  They took their seats. You have to understand one thing, he resumed.

  Dan, please forgive me. I’m so sorry.

  Drink it while it’s hot. Should I turn the heat up. You’re sure you’re okay.

  Yes, it was the emotion.

  Listen. It’s not you. It’s me.

  No. It’s me. I know it. Everything I do is wrong. You see what I mean. You’re angry.

  I’m not angry. I’m just not much fun, that’s all. I’ve set rules for myself. Drink your coffee.

  She did so, watching him over the rim.

  I respect that, she said. The need for self-preservation.

  I’m so mad at myself for having imposed, if only you knew. I’ve ruined everything. Will it bother you if I smoke. I think I could use one. After that, I’ll go.

  He nodded gently, but mostly for himself. The flame of the lighter illuminated the scene like a manger in a Flemish Renaissance painting. He didn’t know whether she’d done it on purpose, whether a terrible priestess didn’t inhabit the heart of most women.

  Can I offer you something stronger, he asked.

  She shot him her most disarming smile. Yes, Dan, she answered, but you know perfectly well how all this will end.

  He stood up as if in a dream to go find some glasses. If he’d had the slightest idea how all this would end, there’s no doubt he would immediately have sat back down.

  CLOWNS

  A few days later, Richard unveiled the fabulous idea he had in mind. He’d worked it out down to the smallest details. He’d taken Dan for a drive and after exiting the highway parked the Alfa in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by undergrowth that was starting to green up again and spread all the way to the bare cliffs nearby. He was certain this would work. Try as Dan might to persuade him he was out of his mind, that it was nuts to take those guys for fools, he wouldn’t be swayed.

  Exasperated, Dan got out of the car and stood a few yards away, his back turned, fists jammed in his pockets.

  So what you’re saying is I can’t count on you, Richard flung at him, getting out in turn under the blue sky.

  You can count on me to tell you what I think of it, that’s for sure.

  That doesn’t answer my question.

  Doesn’t it.

  On the way back, Richard’s jaw remained set and he dropped Dan off in front of the bowling alley without so much as a glance.

  It was early afternoon and Dan was due at work, but he needed to think, concentrate on what he meant to do about Richard’s fucking scheme, and so he went home instead and stayed shut inside until evening, mulling it over.

  Ralph and Gisele lived in one of the small, white, indistinguishable prefab houses that had sprouted up like mushrooms in the late eighties, when the banks were loaning out cash hand over fist and screwing everyone.

  Ralph’s was recognizable by the flag of a motorcycle club he used to belong to when he still had his legs; it floated above the entrance door as a reminder of better days.

  I’ve known motherfuckers like that, Ralph said, scratching his cheek, while Gisele nodded. He’d better watch his step.

  You gotta stop him doing it, she declared.

  Ralph looked at her tenderly and held out his hand. Listen to what she’s saying, dude. Couldn’t have put it better myself. This woman is the voice of reason. Love you, Gisele. So when’s this bullshit supposed to go down. In three days.

  Fine, that gives us time. ’Course, I’m not saying he’ll thank us for it. Can’t say the shithead’s getting any smarter with age. Hey, I heard you just now, you came over on a chopper.

  Dan shot Gisele a glance.

  Oh, come on, give me a break, Ralph fidgeted while they procrastinated. Come on, goddammit, I’m not going to get on my knees and beg. Get out of the way, he grumbled, maneuvering his wheelchair toward the front door. Jesus Christ, I used to love that, at night.

  Let’s go so I can breathe some of that warm spring air.

  It was two days before Richard would speak to him again, when Dan showed up with Mona’s tickets.

  It was almost noon and he’d just gotten up, face dog-tired and eyes bloodshot. He’d opened the door and turned around without a word, leaving Dan at the doorway with the kind of grunt he generally reserved for intruders, door-to-door salesmen, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and process servers of any stripe.

  You’ve lost your phone, Dan said, joining him in the sun-drenched kitchen.

  Richard planted himself in front of the coffee maker.

  Why. I’m the one you came to see. You got something to say to me, he muttered
without turning around.

  Dan pulled up a chair and sat down, tickets in hand.

  If I had anything to say to you, it would be to drop the idea. You should listen to me. You don’t fuck with guys like that. Not you. Not me. Not anyone. We’re out of our depth.

  When Richard turned around, he was almost unrecognizable, so red was his face in spots, and white, blotchy white. Not to mention his rictus. Sometimes, when they were in the thick of it, sweat dripping down their garishly painted faces, he wore that same terrifying expression, and Dan was always glad it wasn’t aimed at him.

  You think I’m dumber than that bunch of morons, you think they scare me.

  It won’t work. It’s bullshit. They’ll never buy it. They won’t even bother to verify. They’ll pop you without so much as word one.

  We’ll see about that. Well, you won’t. You’ll be all comfy in your La-Z-Boy smoking your pipe. Shit, I can’t fucking believe this.

  There was a hint of melancholy, of weariness in that last statement. He spread the flaps of his bathrobe and let himself drop onto a chair on the other side of the Formica table transformed into a puddle of tepid silver.

  I’ll do it alone. I’ve made up my mind and I’m not about to change it. Anyway, thanks a lot, I’ll never forget your help, he added, leaning toward Dan. No need to tattoo your name on my forearm. And now you’re free to leave, compañero, no one’s keeping you.

  Listen, the guy with the Alfa, I checked up on him, I found out a few things. Do you know who that asshole is. Do you know who he works for. You think you can sucker people like that. So just forget about it. Think for a minute. Every scheme, every possible angle, every swindle, he knows them all, that’s what he does.

  Richard blinked, looking mean.

  Do you know what the fuck I do here. How I spend my life. All the pressures I have. Do you know what it means to have rent and bills to pay, two women to take care of, a shitload of debt. You don’t know. You think I’m making this up. You think I’ve got the cash to pay off his car after what happened. I hope you haven’t forgotten that little episode, at least. You didn’t exactly come to my rescue, as I recall. If you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears. But you don’t. There isn’t one. We’re fucked up the ass. They’ve dumped us like turds. Remember what your bastard dad said to us. He was right.

 

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