The hypnotist put down the phone and smiled at her.
“It is very important, Madame, that you have faith in your treatment, in a word, that you maintain positive thoughts throughout the whole process. Do you know that the cosmos, also known as the macrocosm, is made up of stars and planets, and Earth is one of those planets. The cosmos, therefore, is plunged into a universal electromagnetic field, and each star, each planet makes up its own force field. Man’s survival depends on two forces,” he went on, “the immaterial force and the material force.”
“The immaterial forces come from the sky and are provided by the sun, which gives off, as you know, light, radiation, and essential vitamins. Air also comes from the sky, providing man with oxygen. As for the material forces, they come from our planet, the ground, in other words, because of the solid foods and liquids that man consumes. The assimilation of energy makes the body and mind function.”
“Now you see where I am heading,” he continued further. “Quite simply to this: man is a cosmo-telluric being, because his life is born out of universal fluid, along with his diet and his exposure to air and light. He is, therefore, himself a miniature universe, a tributary of the great universe. As Hermes said: ‘What is above is like what is below, and what is below like what is above, the whole forming one and the same thing.’ I hope I am not boring you, Madame Eyang.”
“No, please, continue.”
“It is therefore believed that natural radioactivity reigns in the cosmos, just as it reigns inside the body of our planet, and that uranium—which, as you know emits radiation and is one of the radioactive elements that we find in the animal kingdom—is one of its sources. The cosmos,” he added, “is also endowed with magnetism, which we find on our planet in the form of magnetite (iron oxide that is naturally magnetized). This magnetite, like uranium, is found in the animal kingdom. It is a pathway for the circulation of terrestrial magnetism.”
“Our globe,” he added, “as I’ve just said, has its own radiation, its force fields, and its magnetism. Man is, consequently, a medium, because he is an intermediary situated between the sky and the earth, from where he receives, accumulates, and emits radon. He is additionally magnetic because he is influenced by terrestrial magnetism. I will finish, Madame, by concluding that man is a magnetic medium by the position he occupies on the surface of the globe and by the abundance of minerals as well as force fields that he receives from it.”
“This long explanation,” he concluded, “clearly demonstrates that hypnotists are not magicians. They are ordinary people who have perhaps this innate ability to produce more external waves than others, who have done nothing to get it, but decide to do some good with it.”
“How do you know you have such a talent?”
“There are people who have it and who will never know. It shows up most often by chance. I realized I had magnetic powers inadvertently at the age of forty-five. My wife and I had had a dog for about twenty years whom we loved so much. One day, he was the victim of a traffic accident and was paralyzed. The veterinarian we brought him in a panic to see declared him hopeless after examining him and said he was going to put him out of his misery. My wife was strongly opposed to that. At home, the dog stayed all day in a corner. Each time we went near him, he would whimper and looked despondent, which mortified us. It was very painful for us, especially for my wife, who would lock herself up in our bedroom and cry. One evening, I started to caress his left paw, all the while talking to him, and to our great surprise, the next morning he was able to move that paw again. Intrigued, I caressed the other paw, then his whole body. In the evening, he was able to get up on his four paws. This miracle, and it was a miracle, completely flabbergasted us.”
“We spoke about it to a friend, who asked me to lay my hands upon her. To convince me, she affirmed that she was very sensitive to external waves. I laid my hands over her without much conviction, on her back, head, arms, and legs. She could feel, she said, a tingling in every part of her body that I was touching lightly. The following morning, she phoned to tell us that for the first time in six months, she had been able to sleep uninterruptedly and that her rheumatism had ceased. From that day on, I began using my new powers over everyone I was close to, and they were all healed of their pain. Today, I treat practically all illnesses. And I have lived in your beautiful country for two years now, thanks to Dr. Pascal, whom I met in France.”
“Does he refer many sterile women to you?”
“Yes. He is not the only doctor to send his patients to me. My clients suffer anything from nervous depression to cancer, including obesity and skin diseases.”
Emilienne raised her eyebrows, skeptical.
“It is surprising that Africans trust you. It seemed to me that they preferred injections to playing games.”
“You’re mistaken, Madame. You are one of the races who believe the most in magical powers and supernatural experiences. It has therefore not been difficult for me to gain my patients’ trust. You would be surprised to know that Westerners, the medical profession in particular, ask us for proof of our ability to heal, as if hypnosis were a branch of medicine that could be tested in a laboratory, then on patients.”
“This long explanation,” he said to conclude, “was necessary before beginning the long treatment that you are going to have. I’m going to wash my hands and we will begin the first session immediately.”
He disappeared then came back a few seconds later.
“Stand up with your side toward me,” he said, standing by the bed. “First, I’m going to magnetize you fully dressed; then you’ll take off your clothes. Stand up straight, head up. There!”
He passed both of his hands again and again over Emilienne, about an inch above her head.
“What do you feel?”
“A hot flash.”
“The waves are moving well. Don’t be surprised that I’m starting with your head. Even though your reproductive organs are located in your abdomen, it is important to stimulate all the glands in your body, in order to get your endocrine system working again. Hypnosis has the advantage of rebalancing the whole organism while treating the localized illness.”
AFTER HAVING MADE several magnetic passes over the young woman’s whole body, he asked her to undress and to lie down on her back on the bed. Again, he made the same passes, returning several times to her abdomen.
“It’s strange! My arms and legs are tingling,” Emilienne said with wonder.
“That’s normal. Half of the people who are magnetized don’t feel anything, the others have various sensations: tingling on the extremities of their limbs, the feeling of vibrations or hot flashes, or accelerated heartbeats. Others feel the need to laugh when the end of their nose is magnetized. A few patients have cold sensations, and still others feel discomfort.”
Monsieur Chevalier proceeded to massage the young woman’s naked body, focusing on her lower abdomen. After he’d put her on her belly and repeated the same movements, he asked her to stretch out again on her back.
“Did you feel pain during any part of the session?”
“No, but I feel exhausted.”
“We’re going to stop for today.”
To end the session, he passed his right palm quickly over Emilienne’s arms and legs from the top to the bottom. The young woman distinctly felt the magnetic waves go over her feet and her hands.
“You can get dressed. Don’t be worried if the magnetic shock brings on insomnia or any other kind of disturbance. It could be diarrhea, a breakout of pimples, or the resurgence of any illness, specifically asthma. These short-term reactions are signs that the treatment is working.”
After she’d gotten dressed, Emilienne sat back down.
“How much do I owe you, Monsieur Chevalier?”
“Ten thousand francs,” he answered, flipping through his appointment book. “Come back in a week at the same time, Madame Eyang.”
AS SHE WENT out of this first session, Emilienne experienced some strange s
ensations, particularly in her core and belly button.
“Funny way to treat sterility,” she thought as she got into the car. “I’ll do the whole treatment, and it will be my last attempt to cure this cursed illness. Still, nothing will prove that I’ve become normal again after these magnetism sessions. Like he himself said, this treatment can’t be tested in a laboratory. Whatever the outcome, his long explanations are proof that he is serious and confident. The funniest thing in all this—no, it’s not funny at all, the most dramatic, I should say—is the irregularity of my sexual encounters with Joseph. It is practically impossible for me to know if after my cure any physical contact will occur at the right moment. Besides, the only way to know I am cured is to become pregnant. Otherwise, I could be doing this treatment for a very long time. How will I be able to tell I am cured? A child does not make itself, at least not in this country. Has he thought of this fundamental truth before advising me to go through the treatment? I have to believe that the second home that he created without thinking made Joseph lose his sense of reality.”
“So what is the name of that African sociologist who claimed that modern man, for his equilibrium, needs three women to love at the same time? There’s the wife, whom he considers as part of himself, the reflection of the mother, who reassures, consoles, and watches over his well-being; the mistress, who plays the role of his confidante and advisor, his lucky charm; finally, the girlfriend, who lets him fantasize and forget himself from time to time before returning reinvigorated to the arms of his wife. Without these three women, this sociologist says, man remains unbalanced.” Emilienne was sarcastic about these words: “His virility, his machismo are threatened. We have only one life, so we might as well live it fully, right! Wouldn’t they be in this way comparable to those people who do everything in excess, under the pretext of taking pleasure in life? Does Joseph, like all those of his sex, realize the great pain he has caused me? Because sooner or later, these poor women end up suffering from love the moment they refuse to stop sharing the one who counts the most for them.”
Emilienne smiled sadly. Her interior monologue went on in a more biting tone. “This so-called modern man who so badly needs love and attention is wedged between three women! Like a maniac, the wife demands her legitimate rights; on their side, the mistress and the girlfriend cling to the one who had freely chosen them. This collective revolt makes man the poor victim, misunderstood and betrayed, even though the whole point was to bring these ‘miserable creatures’ happiness. Didn’t a ‘womanizer’ say that thanks to men like him, single women could have an almost normal sex life and that the kids who were born of these fleeting unions would make up the necessary workforce for tomorrow?!”
With sarcasm, Emilienne continued: “It’s difficult for these poor victims to give in to the egotism of these women who, after having consented to play the secondary role, clamor for first place, which, after all, is their right; they are, after all, the purveyors of well-being and comfort. They have, however, gone to the trouble of giving a long explanation to their wife that true fidelity is embedded in the heart. In regard to the other two, they had the decency—an admirable quality—to wear their wedding ring and to make them promise to respect their wife and to know their place. To their girlfriend, they didn’t miss, however underlining the fact that she was not the first and would not be the last woman they would encounter. All these warnings, which can be summed up like this: ‘Love me, but please do it quietly and my way,’ alas, lose their weight the moment a surge of pride awakens these women. Because one fine day, they decide that they can no longer be happy with the little they want to give them. At the least, like me, they take on the huge risk of prolonging the uncomfortable situation in which they find themselves.”
AS THE DAYS and weeks passed, Emilienne learned to love her husband in the way she believed he wanted to be loved: silently and with great tolerance. She swallowed her fears, her suffering, and her jealousy. With all her might, she wanted to love him without demanding anything in return. She desired to love him for their love and not for what he did. In her sustained efforts to appear perfect in his eyes, she would sometimes wonder if this new love that she desired so deeply would last, and if the two of them were not maintaining it in total complicity, through normal physical relations.
At times, too, she bitterly regretted her miscarriages, which were the result of his presence in their bed and the proof of the interest—although diminished—that he held in her body.
Despite her tenacity in wanting to love him until she disappeared from the surface of the Earth, she could not refrain from hearing herself ask again and again why he rejected the idea of a separation. The answer was given to her suddenly one evening by Joseph himself, who’d come in to change his shoes.
“You must without a doubt want to know why I will not leave you! I’m going to tell you,” he added with an air of provocation. “I don’t see any reason for it. You ended up bending to my way of life, and, you don’t bother me. And besides, you have qualities that I haven’t found in any other woman. See, for example, the way you’ve raised my nephews even though you haven’t been very interested in them the past two years. Unlike other men, you see, I will not reject you because my financial situation has considerably improved.”
Emilienne, who was washing her hair, got up abruptly. Her hair flew and the soapy water ran down her face and neck. The comb in her hand fell with a clatter. With an agile hand, she gripped the pair of scissors that she had taken out to trim her nails and hurled it at her husband. With a swift movement of his head, Joseph barely dodged the scissors by a centimeter. Emilienne ran into the bedroom, slumped over, and collapsed onto the carpet, panting like her dog. Her eyes, glimmering like the lights of a deserted harbor, stared up at the ceiling.
Joseph, who absolutely did not tolerate her fainting spells, leaned over her, worried.
“What is going on with you? I wanted to be frank with you. I wanted you to finally have the answer that you were waiting for from me. Oh, and I’ve had enough. I’m leaving, good-bye.”
“Oh, no,” Emilienne shrieked, pulling herself up. “I’m not going to let you leave this bedroom this time.”
She jumped up to lock the door, pulled the key from the lock, and threw it into the linen closet.
The married couple stood facing each other, he against the window and she with her back against the door.
“Give me that key,” Joseph ordered, walking toward the closet.
“You will not leave this room until we’ve talked.”
Joseph came toward her resolutely. Emilienne jumped on him and gave him two fierce slaps. Surprised and beside himself, Joseph raised his fist, and, just as he was about to swing it, his fingers relaxed. He shook his head vehemently and sat down on the dresser. He looked lost as his eyes scanned the furniture, the knickknacks, and then fell on his wife’s livid face.
“Up until now,” Emilienne uttered, her face tense, “I have swallowed every single grass snake that you’ve wanted to wave in my face. And that’s enough. I am asking you to choose right now between your mistress, your children, and me. Don’t forget that your kids’ coming to live in this house is out of the question.”
Her face, knotted up in determination, trembled.
Disconcerted, Joseph stood up and took off his jacket.
“What is it with you all of a sudden? Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Don’t act high and mighty with me, please.”
“I see you’re not going to leave me the time to think it over,” he murmured.
“Don’t mock me, Joseph. You’re not going to play that I-need-time-to-think-about-it game with me about a situation that has been going on for fifteen years. I can be ready to file for divorce tomorrow if you want to; if not, you’re going over to your mistress’s house tonight and bringing back all of your clothes. Don’t smile, Joseph, I am not joking.”
“Enough! I will not accept an ultimatum from you. Have you lost your head? Ho
nestly! Do you realize how absurd you sound? Do you think I am capable of abandoning my children because it pleases you?!”
He moved toward his wife and grabbed her by the shoulders. Emilienne struggled violently to escape his hold.
“No problem!” the young woman screamed. “I want to hear you say that you want a divorce. And don’t worry; I will accept your decision.”
Joseph’s voice dropped in tone. After a few seconds, which to Emilienne seemed an eternity, he went on faintly:
“Who do you think I set up this construction company for? And the house I am having built now, who will it belong to when I’m dead?”
Emilienne started. She had just heard for the first time that he was having a house built, that he would bequeath it to the children of his mistress before she was even out of the picture.
“Unbelievable! What else is he hiding from me? How can someone trust her husband when he is capable of hiding such a huge secret from his spouse! No doubt an open secret for his family, his mistress, and his children. It’s one thing that he doesn’t want to reveal to me the identity of this woman he’s been with for fifteen years; I, too, have a relationship that I would never admit! But it’s another thing to ever forgive him for having hidden from me the existence of two children and the construction of a visible, palpable house. This cannot be happening. He never loved me. I will not be walked all over like that.”
“We will live there, obviously,” he continued, “but, naturally, it will go to my children. Would you be so heartless as to deprive them of what is theirs by right: a father and an inheritance?”
Emilienne balked, her blood having already pumped a dozen times through her veins. “Oh, you are mistaken, Joseph,” she said to herself. “It is out of the question that other children benefit from what would have gone to mine had they existed. If that’s how it is, I will give you the son you want and I will see who snatches what is his. Then, we can talk about rights.”
“I do believe I’ve given you enough time to give me more children. Your jealousy today is not justified. And to deprive me of those whom their mother has given me is a sick scheme. Don’t take me away from what makes me happy and proud.”
The Fury and Cries of Women Page 19
