I kept on drinking while she was talking, and then heard my own voice answer her from afar, as if coming from the next room. I told her she was right, that I wouldn't be able, was not able to write anything at all as long as she was still alive. I reminded her of our childhood sexual experiences, which she'd initiated, being older than me by several years, and which had shocked me more deeply than she could ever imagine.
My sister replied that they were just childish games, and that it was in bad taste to bring them up again, especially since she had remained a virgin and had had no interest in "that" for a long time.
I said I knew "that" didn't interest her, she was happy to stroke the hips and breasts of her clients, I had watched her during fittings, I'd seen the pleasure she took in touching her young clients, beautiful as she had never been; depraved was all she had ever been.
I told her that because of her ugliness and her hypocritical puritanism, she had never been able to interest any man. So she turned instead to her clients and used taking measurements and smoothing out the material as a pretext for touching the young, beautiful women who ordered dresses from her.
My sister said, "You're going too far, Victor. That's enough!"
She grabbed the bottle, my bottle of brandy, she smashed it over the typewriter, the brandy spilled out over the desk. My sister came toward me, holding the neck of the broken bottle.
I stood up, pinned her arm back, twisted her wrist; she dropped the bottle. We fell onto the bed, and I lay on top of her. I gripped her skinny throat in my hands, and when she stopped struggling, I ejaculated.
The next day Lucas takes Victor's manuscript back to Peter.
A few months later, Peter goes back to his hometown to take part in the trial. He is away for several weeks. On his return he calls in at the bookshop, strokes Mathias's hair, and says to Lucas. "Come and see me this evening."
Lucas says, "Sounds like bad news, Peter."
Peter shakes his head. "Don't ask any questions now. See you later."
When Peter leaves, the child turns to Lucas. "Has something bad happened to Peter?"
"Not to Peter, but to one of his friends, I'm afraid."
The child says, "It's the same thing, it's maybe even worse."
Lucas holds Mathias close. "You're right. Sometimes it's worse."
When he gets to Peter's, Lucas asks, "Well?"
Peter drinks the glass of brandy he has just poured in a single gulp. "Well? Sentenced to death. Executed yesterday by hanging. Drink up!"
"You're drunk, Peter!"
Peter raises the bottle, examines the level of the liquid, snickers. "You're right, I've already drunk half a bottle. I'm taking over where Victor left off."
Lucas gets up. "I'll come back another time. It's no use talking to you in this state."
Peter says, "On the contrary. I can't talk about Victor unless I'm in this state. Sit down. Here, this belongs to you. Victor sends it to you." He pushes a small linen bag over to Lucas.
Lucas asks, "What is it?"
"Gold coins and jewelry. Some money as well. Victor didn't have enough time to spend it. He said, 'Give this all back to Lucas. He paid too much for the house and the bookshop. As for you, Peter, I leave you my house, the house of my sister and our parents. We don't have any heirs, neither my sister nor I have an heir. Sell this house, it is cursed. It has had a curse on it since our childhood. Sell it, and go back to the little town far away, that wonderful place I never should have left.' "
After a silence, Lucas says, "You thought Victor would receive a lighter sentence. You even hoped he would avoid prison and live out his days in an asylum."
"I was wrong, that's all. I couldn't know that the psychiatrists would judge Victor responsible for his actions, nor that Victor would act like a fool at his trial. He showed no remorse, no regret, no contrition. He just kept on repeating, 'I had to do it, I had to kill her. It was the only way I could write my book.' The jury deemed that no one had a right to kill someone solely because that person was preventing him from writing a book. They also declared that it would be too easy to have a few drinks, kill an honest person, and get away with it. They concluded that Victor was a selfish, perverse individual who was a danger to society. Apart from me all the witnesses gave evidence against him in favor of his sister, who led an honorable, exemplary life, and was appreciated by everyone, particularly her clients." Lucas asks, "Were you able to see him apart from the trial?" "After the sentence, yes. I was allowed to go into his cell and stay as long as I wanted. I kept him company up to the end." "Was he afraid?"
"Afraid? I don't think that's the right word. At first he didn't believe it, he couldn't believe it. Was he expecting a pardon, a miracle? I don't know. The day he wrote and signed his will he certainly had no illusions. The final evening he said to me, 'I know I'm going to die, Peter, but I don't understand it. Instead of just one corpse, my sister's, there will now be a second, mine. But who needs a second corpse? Certainly not God, he has no use for our bodies. Society? It would gain a book or two by letting me live, instead of gaining an extra corpse which would benefit noone.
Lucas asks, "Did you go to the execution?" "No. He asked me to, but I said no. You think I'm a coward, don't you?"
"Not for the first time. But I understand."
"Would you have gone?"
"If he had asked me, yes, I would have gone."
7
The bookshop has been converted into a reading room. Some children have already got into the habit of going there to read or draw; others come in at random when they are cold or tired from having been out playing too long in the snow. These children stay a quarter of an hour or so, just long enough to get warm and flip through some picture books. There are also those who peer through the shop window and then run away when Lucas comes out to invite them in.
Now and then Mathias comes down from the apartment, sits down with a book next to Lucas, goes back up after an hour or two, and returns for closing time. He doesn't mix with the other children. When they have left, Mathias rearranges the books, empties the wastepaper basket, places the chairs on the tables, and wipes down the floor. He also keeps accounts: "They've stolen another seven colored pencils, three books, and they've wasted dozens of sheets of paper."
Lucas says', "It's nothing, Mathias. If they asked I'd give them these things for free. They're shy, they prefer to take things in secret. It's not important."
Late one afternoon, while everyone is reading in silence, Mathias slides a note to Lucas. It says, "Look at that woman!" Outside the window, in the darkness of the street, the shadowy figure of a woman, a faceless silhouette, is looking into the brightly lit bookshop. Lucas gets up and the shadow disappears.
Mathias whispers, "She follows me everywhere. At recess she watches me over the playground fence. She walks behind me on the way home from school."
Lucas asks, "Does she speak to you?"
"No. Once, a few days ago, she offered me an apple, but I didn't take it. Another time, when four other boys were holding me down in the snow and were about to undress me, she scolded them and hit them. I ran away."
"She's not evil, then. She defended you."
"Yes, but why? She has no reason to defend me. And why does she follow me? Why does she watch me? Her look scares me. Her eyes scare me."
Lucas says, "Don't pay any attention, Mathias. Many women lost their children during the war, so they get attached to another child who reminds them of the one they lost."
Mathias snickers. "I'd be surprised if I reminded anyone of her child."
That evening, Lucas rings at the door of Yasmine's aunt. She opens the window. "What do you want?"
"To talk to you."
"I haven't time. I have to go to work."
"I'll wait for you."
When she comes out of the house, Lucas says, "I'll walk with you. Do you often work at night?" "One week in three. Like everybody else. What do you want to talk about? My job?"
"No. About the child. I ju
st want to ask you to leave him alone."
"I've done nothing to him."
"I know. But you follow him, you watch him. It bothers him. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Poor little thing. She left him."
They walk silently down the empty, snow-covered street. The woman hides her face in her scarf; her shoulders shake with her silent sobbing.
Lucas asks, "When will your husband be freed?"
"My husband? He's dead. Didn't you know?"
"No. I'm sorry."
"Officially he committed suicide. But I heard from someone who knew him inside, who's now been released, that it wasn't suicide. It was his cellmates who killed him because of what he did to his daughter."
They reach the front of the large textile factory, which is lit up by neon lights. From all sides shivering, shadowy figures hurry in and disappear through the metal gate. Even out here the noise of the machines is deafening.
Lucas asks, "If your husband weren't dead, would you take him back?"
"I don't know. He wouldn't have dared come back to this town in any case. I think he would have gone to the capital to look for Yasmine."
The factory siren goes. Lucas says, "I'll let you go. You'll be late."
The woman raises her pale, youthful face; she has the brilliant, dark eyes of Yasmine.
"Now that I'm on my own, I could maybe, if you like, if you wanted, take the child in."
Lucas screams louder than the factory siren. "Take Mathias? Never! He's mine, mine alone! I forbid you to go near him, watch him, talk to him, or follow him!"
The woman retreats toward the factory gate. "Calm down. Have you gone mad? It was only a suggestion."
Lucas turns on his heels and runs back to the bookshop. He leans against the wall of the house and waits for his heartbeat to slow down.
A young girl enters the bookshop, comes up to Lucas, smiles.
"Don't you recognize me, Lucas?"
"Should I?"
"Agnes."
Lucas tries to think. "I'm sorry, Miss, I don't recall."
"But we're old friends. I once came to your house to listen to music. I suppose I was only six at the time. You wanted to make me a swing."
Lucas says, "I remember. Your Aunt Leonie sent you."
"That's right. She's dead now. This time it's the factory manager who sent me to buy some picture books for the children in the day-care center."
"You work at the factory? You should still be at school."
Agnes blushes. "I'm fifteen. I left school last year. I don't work at the factory, I'm a kindergarten teacher. The children call me Miss."
Lucas laughs. "I called you Miss as well."
She hands Lucas a bill. "Give me some books, and also some paper and pencils for drawing."
Agnes comes by often. She browses at length among the books on the shelves, she sits with the children, she reads and draws with them.
The first time that Mathias sees her he says to Lucas, "She's a very beautiful woman."
"A woman? She's just a kid."
"She's got breasts, she's not a kid anymore."
Lucas looks at Agnes's breasts, enhanced by a red sweater.
"You're right, Mathias, she does have breasts. I hadn't noticed."
"What about her hair? She has lovely hair. Look how it shines in the light."
Lucas looks at Agnes's long blond hair shining in the light.
Mathias continues, "Look at her dark eyelashes."
Lucas says, "It's eyeshadow."
"Her mouth."
"Lipstick. At her age she shouldn't be wearing makeup."
"You're right, Lucas. She'd be beautiful even without makeup."
Lucas laughs. "And at your age you shouldn't be eyeing the girls."
"I don't look at the girls in my class. They're stupid and ugly."
Agnes gets up. She climbs the stepladder to get a book. She is wearing a short skirt that reveals her garter belt and black stockings, which have a run in them. Noticing this, she wets her index finger and tries to stop the run with the saliva. To do this she must bend down, revealing white panties decorated with pink flowers—little girl's panties.
One evening, she stays until closing time. She says to Lucas, "I'll help you tidy up."
Lucas says, "Mathias does the tidying. He's good at it."
Mathias says to Agnes, "If you helped me I'd finish quicker, then I could make you some pancakes with jam, if you like them."
Agnes says, "Everybody likes pancakes with jam."
Lucas goes up to his room. A little while later, Mathias calls him. "It's ready, Lucas."
They eat pancakes with jam in the kitchen, they drink tea. Lucas doesn't speak. Agnes and Mathias laugh a lot. After the meal, Mathias says, "You'll have to walk Agnes home. It's dark outside."
Agnes says, "I can go on my own. I'm not afraid of the dark."
Lucas says, "Come on. I'll walk with you."
When they reach her house, Agnes asks, "Aren't you coming in?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"You're just a child, Agnes."
"No, I'm not a child anymore. I'm a woman. You wouldn't be the first to come into my bedroom. My parents aren't home. They're at work. Even if they were here ... I have my own room and I can do what I like."
Lucas says, "Good night, Agnes. I have to go."
Agnes says, "I know where you're going. Down to that alley where the soldiers' girls are."
"That's right. But that's no concern of yours."
The next day, Lucas says to Mathias, "Before you invite someone to eat with us you should ask my opinion."
"Don't you like Agnes? Too bad. She's in love with you. It's obvious. It's because of you that she comes so often."
Lucas says, "You've got a fertile imagination, Mathias."
"Wouldn't you like to marry her?"
"Marry her? What an idea! No, certainly not." "Why not? Are you still waiting for Yasmine? She won't come back."
Lucas says, "I don't want to marry anyone."
It is spring. The back door to the garden is open. Mathias is tending to his plants and his animals. He has a white rabbit, several cats, and the black dog that Joseph gave him. He is looking forward to the birth of some chicks being hatched out by a hen in the chicken coop.
Lucas is watching over the room where the children are bent over their books, absorbed in their reading.
A small boy raises his eyes, smiles at Lucas. He has blond hair, blue eyes. It's the first time he has been here. Lucas can't tear his eyes away from the child. He sits behind the counter, opens a book, and continues watching the unknown child. He feels a sudden, sharp pain in his left hand, which is resting on the book. A pair of compasses is stuck in the back of his hand. Half paralyzed by the intensity of the pain, Lucas turns slowly to Mathias.
"Why did you do that?"
Mathias hisses between his teeth, "I don't want you looking at him!"
"I wasn't looking at anyone."
"Yes you were! Don't lie to me! I saw you looking at him. I don't want you looking at him like that."
Lucas pulls out the compasses. He presses his handkerchief over the wound.
"I'm going upstairs to put some antiseptic on this."
When he comes back down the children have all gone. Mathias has pulled down the metal shutter in front of the door.
"I told them we were closing early today."
Lucas takes Mathias in his arms, carries him to the apartment, and puts him on the bed.
"What's the matter with you, Mathias?"
"Why were you looking at him, the blond boy?"
"He reminded me of someone."
"Someone you loved?"
"Yes. My brother."
"You mustn't love anyone else but me, not even your brother."
Lucas is silent.
Mathias continues, "There's no point in being intelligent. It's better to be beautiful and blond. If you got married, you could have children like him, the blond boy, like your brothe
r. You'd have real children of your own, beautiful and blond, who aren't crippled. I'm not your son. I'm Yasmine's son."
Lucas says, "You are my son. I don't want any other children."
He shows Mathias his bandaged hand. "You hurt me, you know."
The child says, "And you hurt me, only you don't know it."
Lucas says, "I didn't want to hurt you. You must know one thing, Mathias: the only person in the world I care about is you."
The child says, "I don't believe you. Only Yasmine really loved me, and she's dead. I've told you that lots of times."
"Yasmine isn't dead. She just went away."
"She wouldn't have left without me, so she's dead." The child continues. "We must close down the reading room. What made you open a reading room in the first place?"
"I did it for you. I thought it would help you make friends."
"I don't want friends. I never asked you for a reading room. In fact, I'm asking you to close it."
Lucas says, "I'll close it. I'll tell the children tomorrow evening that the weather is nice enough to read and draw outside."
The little blond boy returns the next day. Lucas doesn't look at him. He stares at the lines, the letters in a book.
Mathias says, "You don't dare look at him. But you're dying to, all the same. You've been reading that page for the last five minutes."
Lucas closes the book and buries his face in his hands.
Agnes comes into the library. Mathias runs to meet her, she gives him a kiss. Mathias asks, "Why did you stop coming?"
"I haven't had time. I've been on a teacher training course in the next town. I wasn't home very often."
"But now you'll stay here, in our town?"
"Yes."
"Will you come and eat pancakes with us this evening?"
The Notebook + The Proof + The Third Lie Page 21
