The Devil's Reward

by Emmanuelle De Villepin

  I felt slightly dizzy and when I tried to stand I passed out.

  When I came to, noise of a commotion all around made me anxious. A man leaned over me and said, “Madame, Madame, do you hear me?”

  I stared up at him in surprise. What was he doing in my home? I looked at the others around him. One was kneeling at my side taking my blood pressure. I looked about for something familiar and saw the silhouette of Catherine standing behind them. She had a serious look on her face.

  For Pete’s sake, Catherine, what’s going on? And what are all these people doing here? And why am I lying on the ground?

  “You’re going to be taken to the hospital for some tests, Madame. Don’t you worry, everything’s going to be fine.”

  I’ll worry if I want to, for heaven’s sake! Catherine, don’t let them take me away. Who are these people with all these tools? What do they want with me? Come my daughter, you’re not going to leave me in the hands of these strangers, are you?

  She stood there like a statue and did nothing to defend me. I had no choice but to surrender.

  She looks sad though, scared even. That’s probably why she’s not reacting. She’s scared stiff. Catherine my dear, get a grip on yourself and stop these people from taking me away. I’m too tired to resist, but you, you can do it. But the stretcher is already going down the stairs and I’m on it. All I need now is to have them drop me. Damn it Catherine, do something!

  They are kind and considerate, and yet in no time there I am lying down inside an ambulance that’s moving through the city with all its sirens blaring.

  I was afraid like I’ve always been afraid — in silence and perfectly immobile. Fear always paralyzes me, and it’s better like that, it shows less that way.

  At the emergency room, a kind nurse caressed my hand before sticking a needle into it with a plastic tube attached, all the while talking to me as if I were a baby.

  “It’s going to feel ‘ouch,’ but you’re going to be a big girl and cooperate nicely, okay?”

  As for being a big girl, yes I was a big girl. The cutie-pie nurse had no fear of euphemisms, that was for sure. As for cooperating, I really had no choice, so stick me with your needle, my pretty, and drop the obsequious patter. And this is what she did in fact, and with a little smirk of joy that didn’t escape my notice.

  “Bravo, you didn’t budge. You are truly a model patient.”

  I’m not a model anything, I’m terrified and I’m certainly not going to pick a fight with a nurse holding a needle. She’s got to save my life! It will take whatever it takes. As for Catherine, thanks for sticking up for me…not! She’s totally missing in action. Probably off crying in some corner instead of organizing my liberation. Papyrus, if you were still here, I would have nothing to fear, but stay where you are and don’t expect me to join you right away. I still have some matters to resolve first.

  Next came a string of doctors, some of whom were rather condescending. And then an endless series of tests. Blood tests, urine tests, heart tests, and on and on. I was taken aback by all this interest. Really, all this devotion to human life even when the life in question was that of an old relic like me. My place was in a museum, if there is a museum for the old and ordinary. Instead of that, I found myself in a famous hospital surrounded by competent healthcare professionals, all with such good intentions. And yet I would have given anything to be at home, and the worst thing I could imagine was dying amid all these good people. In the hospital my death would be really clear and final, whereas at home it would be enveloped in a big sleep, and I preferred that.

  Ah fear! Fear is so invasive. It’s impossible to see clearly and to reason. And without the ability to reason, vertigo entirely takes over.

  Christiane is a little devil but she is very intelligent. My mother used to say that, but since I considered her to be rather stupid I never paid her any mind. Christiane is devilishly lively and what’s more very intelligent, my father would say, but since he was my father, I only half believed him.

  When Papyrus took me in his arms, I would fall into a frenzy of laughter — a great but precarious happiness. He preferred Gabriel and it was always Gabriel who got tossed into the air. I also believe it’s this bit of abandonment and isolation that made me intelligent. Gabriel was too happy to think—at least in our earliest years. Later things changed for him too.

  I was born in 1929. Papyrus and my mother had been married for five years, and I think he was already feeling bored with her. In any case he was so happy to have a daughter that he sacrificed his most handsome oak tree to build a baptismal font. Abbé Chaivreaux officiated at my baptism. Cousin Vincent was chosen as my godfather and Aunt Bette as my godmother. She was Protestant but this was not really a problem except for my mother, who held back her tears and accepted the arrangement despite reservations.

  Poor Mother! She could never stand Bette and had to put up with her twice over as sister-in-law!

  The first years of my life were very cheerful times. Papyrus had a talent for inventing games and lively parties. Between masquerade balls and hunting, picnics, blindman’s buff, and hide-and-seek, our childhood was awfully privileged and happy. I say awfully because the high price to be paid eventually came due. Gabriel and I were spoiled and rather poorly raised, I believe. With our playful father and weak mother, we became two wild, insolent little brats.

  Uncle Geoffroy and Aunt Bette lived in the château at Rochebrune a few miles from Warvillers. I don’t remember exactly the reason for this, but I think it didn’t bother my mother, who preferred to have the château remain in the family. Since after the death of her parents my mother and Bette were the sole inheritors and since Bette had received a generous inheritance from Enguerrand, it was normal that she take up residence there. Furthermore, being rich, she could afford to make many improvements to the château, and it quickly became far more luxurious than ours.

  I know no one is listening to me, but I’m telling my story because it’s the only thing I can focus my mind on. It’s said that old people have a very weak memory of distant things but that recent events are kept solidly in mind. Perhaps. Me, I think we have an insatiable need for certainties, and that when the present appears more fleeting than ever and the future is hidden under a threatening opaque veil, there is not much besides the past that one can count on for proof of one’s existence.

  I was born in 1929. I am eighty-six years old and I have the story of Papyrus to tell.

  But there’s no stopping their constant interruptions, bothering me with a thousand little tortures that I’m yielding to without the slightest protest since I’m obliged to go along with the unshakable faith in life. Here’s the pretty nurse who thinks I’m stupid coming back.

  “So, since you were so kind and cooperative, you get a prize.”

  I knew I had every reason to avoid making any fuss.

  She left and came back with a disgusting food tray containing drunkard’s vomit, a little frog diarrhea, and bile jelly. She could dream on if she thought I was going to eat that. What would I have received if I’d been uncooperative! She must have taken pity on me since she said: “Well, look at the face you’re making! Come on, time to start eating on your own like a grown-up. I’ll go fetch your surprise.”

  Ouf, so that wasn’t it. She came back with Catherine and had the grace to leave us alone together.

  “Mother, how are you doing?” She rushed over to kiss me.

  “I’m just a little tired, but please, please get me out of here quick.”

  “You will leave as soon as you’re able, Mom. But first tests have to be done to understand what happened to you.”

  “Oh, good God, after all their exploring, I assure you if there were anything to know they would have found it by now.”

  “We have to wait for the results, Mom. Please, just let them do their job and do what you’re told for once.”

  “Ac
h, this obsession with infantilizing the infirm! Just because we need help does not make us stupid!”

  “I get that you’re furious, Mom, but look, that’s the way it is. So show a little patience and quit the capricious whining.”

  Fine, Catherine, fine. I know you’re right, fine. But I’m going to stay silent to punish you all the same.

  “But the food, yuck, what a disaster.”

  “Ah, so you agree with me?” I spat out triumphantly. “How could anyone eat that garbage? It reminds me of a Mark Twain story where people are forced to eat eggs with baby birds inside as a way to cure them of their pickiness.”

  “I think I’d rather eat a bird raw than that disgusting gruel!”

  “Couldn’t you at least find me a piece of baguette and some Camembert?”

  “And maybe a half-bottle of Burgundy while I’m at it, right?”

  “I’m not kidding, Catherine, they’re going to kill me with this crap.”

  “So skip a meal! It’s not going to kill you, so stop worrying!”

  The nurse returned to see how I was doing and made a series of patronizing remarks.

  “This is not good, Madame. I give you a surprise and you’re being naughty. Am I going to have to punish you and ask the woman to leave? Is that what you want?”

  I shook my head vigorously to say no, and Catherine came closer and caressed my forehead.

  “I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but she doesn’t have much of an appetite, you know. I think she must be a little shaken up by all that’s happened.”

  “She doesn’t have to eat it all, just a little. Come on, a few spoonfuls and I’ll leave you alone.”

  I shot Catherine a look of pure terror. She was evidently looking for a way out of this situation but was also afraid of challenging the authority of the nurse. It is so difficult to be dependent on others.

  “No, please, don’t force her. She’ll eat tomorrow, I promise. Leave her alone tonight, she’s had a really tough day, you know.”

  Mercifully, the nurse backed off, but still kept up her obsequious smile. Peaceful resistance had worked. I felt like jumping for joy.

  Catherine stayed with me to the end of visiting hours and left as it was getting dark.

  We spoke a little about her meeting with Lorenzo, but I quickly understood that her suffering was actually linked to her feeling of resignation. She was not ready to forgive because she already feared the next round of suffering, and yet she was unable to break the tie that was causing her to suffer so much. It was a kind of Stockholm syndrome, but where the jailor was not Lorenzo but instead the first years of their relationship, when everything was simple and corresponded to her romantic imagination of things. Later ugliness emerged — in the folds of routine and under the mask of complicity there was hidden the grimacing face of boredom. She had satisfied him from cellar to attic with a thousand little inoffensive habits, but he felt a nostalgic urge for wide-open spaces and sought out a compromise in the beds of young adventurers. His love was hers but the feeling of wind in the hair came with young strangers.

  The doctors returned and promised to transport me to a room the next day.

  Anxiety came over me. I was alone, a captive in this sordid room with the pretty nurse whose solicitous air made me panic.

  I was born in 1929 and Papyrus would organize the most extraordinary treasure hunts.

  Chapter Twelve

  We were well into the month of July when Papyrus organized the most beautiful of all his treasure hunts.

  He had divided us into two teams. Gabriel was the captain of the first team, which included François, Benoît, and Henrietta, the cook’s daughter. Pascal, whom I was secretly in love with, was the captain of my team, and there was also Gilles and Isabelle, who was very pretty and very well behaved, and this made a big impression on me.

  Like every year, Papyrus gathered us together in the living room and then distributed identical envelopes to the two captains. In each was the first clue. The goal was to find the hiding spot of the second envelope without the other team following your trail. Pascal grabbed the envelope from Papyrus’s hands and we scampered off as fast as we could to hide from the inquiring glances of Gabriel and his teammates, who did exactly the same thing for the very same reasons. Isabelle was a born leader and I would have given anything to be like her. But her hair was straight, shiny, and dark, while mine was frizzy and blond. She was considered careful and discreet, while I was fidgety and nervous. She was sweet and serene, whereas I was always at war against something or someone. I had tried to straighten my hair to look more like her, and when I was alone in my room I would practice speaking like her and imitating her delicate hand gestures. The result was my hairdo took hours to complete and only lasted a few minutes. As soon as I started running behind some dog or after Gabriel, bam! my disorderly curls would bounce back as before. As for my imitations, the day Gabriel surprised me while I was rehearsing I was so upset that I never dared do it again.

  Anyway, there we were trying to solve the first riddle. It was a rebus that directed us to Father Ledoux’s barn. We all arrived screaming, and the moment the two captains reached out their hands for the second envelope, the delicate, charming Isabelle reached out and snatched it. Because it was her, no one said anything, but had it been anyone else it would have provoked a real brawl. The game continued with a series of riddles, rebuses, and other puzzles. I never guessed any of them and it bothered me that I appeared like such a ninny. When a solution seemed silly to me, I gave up, even though it always turned out to be the right answer. Clearly a setback on my way to becoming a leader. But with all those boys, me being a little assertive was unthinkable.

  What I remember perfectly is the last part of the hunt, which ended up in the large clearing behind the Rovachole farm. This time our team had a big advantage, because the others hadn’t understood a thing about the riddle. Unfortunately, we couldn’t race across an open field and through the forest to the farm quietly. Gabriel and his teammates, not understanding the riddle, decided to follow us. We were a little ahead, but the race was an all-out breathless affair. We were the first ones to get to the clearing, where a spectacular surprise awaited us: a hot-air balloon! It was an enormous balloon with red and yellow stripes. Papyrus was aboard looking magnificent with his leather helmet and goggles. Gabriel took advantage of our shocked surprise to leap onto the wicker basket and get himself hauled inside. Papyrus pulled him in by his britches. I was steaming mad. I rushed toward the basket too. Once inside, I went after Gabriel and pummeled him as hard as I could. Papyrus was laughing but nevertheless separated us.

  “It’s not fair! We guessed the last riddle! Why did he get to climb in first? We figured everything out first, Papyrus. All they did was cheat and follow us.” As soon as I felt his hold releasing me I went after my brother again and gave him a good kick.

  “Christiane, that’s enough now. If you don’t stop you won’t be coming with us!”

  “Well, I won’t go then. I’m not going up in the sky with cheaters!”

  “Okay, then get down and let the others climb aboard.”

  If Papyrus had known how much he had broken my heart at that moment, he would never have said such a thing. As for Gabriel, when I think about it today I still feel like wringing his neck.

  They all climbed into the basket one after another while I walked away sobbing. A little while later, however, after I’d been kicking at the grass and thinking of the worst imaginable punishments that could be visited on them, and especially on my brother, I heard Papyrus call me. I turned around to see him running after me saying, “Christiane, Christiane, come back!” But instead of throwing myself in his arms I ran off faster to escape him. He eventually caught up with me, I probably wasn’t even six years old. I resisted him with all my strength, but he only laughed at my efforts.

  “Christiane, my little wild thing, we
’re waiting for you to take off. We’re not leaving without you. You don’t want to keep your friends from having this beautiful trip into the clouds, do you?”

  “I’m not going if my stupid brother Gabriel is going.”

  “But we’re all going!”

  “Then what was the point of solving the riddles if everyone gets to go?”

  “Come on. Stop being so stubborn and get into the balloon.”

  He took me in his arms and hugged and kissed me. He laughed while gently teasing me. I think in my whole life I never felt a love as full, compact, and total. Papyrus, I loved you so much.

  Papyrus taught us how to ride a horse. My brother was a talented rider and totally fearless. I was terrified but I couldn’t stand the idea of being left out, so I would grit my teeth and pretend to be enthusiastic. Mother didn’t take care of us much. I have few memories of her that don’t have to do with prayers, polite behavior with visiting aunts, and the occasional scolding that was no doubt well deserved. It was important to her that at least in public we be more or less presentable. She had drilled us fairly well in basic manners, but it was important that the show be as brief as possible because our ability to play model children was very limited.

  Our lives rolled on sweetly and without incident. Our mother probably suffered, but we were not conscious of it. Papyrus continued to go back and forth between his military base and the château, which seemed sad without his lively presence.

  We attended the village school and were all together in the same classroom. Madame Gilbert did her best to attend to the level of each pupil. I was really good at French and history, but had rather disastrous results in all other subjects. Thankfully she would test us in a low voice while the others were doing their assignments. Isabelle, who had long, impeccable braids with not a single hair out of place, always held herself so straight in her pretty pale pink apron. She answered questions in perfect cadences with her hands clasped behind her back. I would have liked to do the same, but except with grammar and poetry, I was incapable of any cadence, since I remained as mute as a fish. Of course my mother made some negative remarks at report card time, but since Papyrus expressed total indifference, I concluded that I was taking after him with my mediocre school performance. Gabriel’s results were not so great either, but he was really good at math. Sometimes we bartered homework between our strong and weak subjects, but when I had to explain what I was doing we always ended up in stupid arguments. And yet as soon as we separated we would become totally bored. At bottom Gabriel and I were completely united — in hate and in love.