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.
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.
It’s going to happen faster than we think. They’ve just announced that they got their forecasts messed up. It’s possible you and I will experience it. We’ll be old but we’ll still be here to see it. To cheer it on.
It makes you feel like strolling along the road, walking in the darkness, she said vaguely.
He nodded and finished his beer while looking up at the sky. For her part, she found it very strange that he didn’t have a girlfriend.
VOICE
Richard finally gave a sign of life just as Dan was dropping Marlene off in front of her house. He hadn’t chosen the best moment to resurface, for Dan’s mind was elsewhere; he hadn’t totally forgotten him, but close enough. He hadn’t felt the time pass with Marlene. And so he was almost taken aback when he saw Richard’s name displayed on the screen, almost annoyed. He gave Marlene a wave and answered the phone without pleasure, especially since he’d felt good that evening, talking quietly, finally relaxed, and even before Richard opened his mouth he already knew it was fucked. Richard was going to ruin everything.
You gotta come get me, he said in a strangled voice punctuated by a moan, and God knew Richard was no softie.
Dan felt as if he’d been doused by an icy shower. Then a wave of guilt washed over him and he set off immediately, brow furrowed, mood dark.
Meanwhile, Richard managed to drag himself to a bench at the edge of the reservoir whose surface gleamed in the heavy silence. The area was deserted, not a soul around. His thoughts were full of static, muddled by the jolts running through his body. He could hardly explain how he’d ended up there, half dazed, in the dark, but he knew he’d taken a good beating. He checked vaguely that he still had all his teeth, noted that his nose was bleeding—he tilted his head back and a flock of ducks, flying out from the reeds, crossed his field of vision—but apparently nothing was broken, or maybe just a rib or two. A real miracle. He wouldn’t say no to a bit of morphine, if offered.