Still With Me (14 page)

It was a small, normal-looking house in a residential neighborhood where only the passage of a few cars disturbed the peace. On a mailbox, Jeremy read “P. and M. Kazan.” Victoria had taken refuge with her parents.

Jeremy walked up to the door, his heart pounding. He only wanted to confirm the address, not to show himself. He had decided to respect Victoria’s wishes. He was tempted to ring the bell, but he held himself back. He noticed that from the garden in front of the house he could see in through a large bay of windows. He found a bush that made an ideal hiding place. All he wanted was to see his wife and sons. To his great relief, the garden was deserted.

The windows on the second floor were open, but Jeremy was too low to see inside them. The first-floor windows were closed, and the few shadows he saw were unidentifiable.

After waiting twenty minutes, he was starting to feel hopeless. He was losing time. He had to move forward in
his investigation, to get as far as possible in his search before disappearing again into the night. But every movement behind the windows made him want to stay a little longer.

After an hour of fruitless observation, he decided to leave. He was about to step away from the bush, his throat tight, when he heard the gate grind. He lifted his head and saw a little boy holding a balloon that he swung back and forth. It was Simon. Jeremy had just enough time to take cover in his hiding place when Thomas and Victoria appeared behind the boy. Jeremy’s heart leapt. He almost gave in to his panic, but he gained control of himself. What would Victoria say if she found him hiding in this bush like a common criminal? She wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the good Jeremy and the bad, even if she did still believe there was a difference.

Jeremy crouched down and watched Victoria coming closer. He was deeply astonished to see how much she’d changed. Her body looked extremely fragile and floated awkwardly in her jeans and sweatshirt. Her arms were crossed, and she stood hunched, like she was protecting herself from an icy wind. Her cheeks were hollow and her features worn. She was pale—too pale. Her sunken eyes
expressed only sadness. Her lips, once so lovely, were puckered in a nervous smile. Her hair was pulled back and held in place by a rubber band. She looked like one of those deeply depressed women who give up on their beauty, abstaining from the pleasures of life and retreating into the duties of motherhood—their last connection to life.

My God. This is the result of my malice. I’m the one who made her sad. Even her beauty has withered. How could I make her so unhappy?

Victoria followed Simon, who ran after his balloon. He had grown, but his face hadn’t changed. Less infantile, maybe, hinting at the features of the young boy he would become. Thomas, for his part, walked closer to his mother. He had the serious look of a child who was growing up too fast. His hair had grown longer, and blond curls framed a face that was harder, more willful than the one Jeremy remembered. By now they were quite close to him. He took in every detail of the scene while holding his breath and trying to suppress the tremors in his body.

When they had gotten about as far as Jeremy’s hiding place, Thomas took his mother by the arm. “Come on, Mom, let’s sit there.”

With the reflexes of a frightened child, Jeremy closed his eyes, hoping to dissolve in the darkness. He heard their footsteps approaching, the rustle of their clothes, and their breath. When he finally opened his eyes, they were sitting on the bench in front of the bush with their backs to him, so close he could reach out and touch them. Victoria looked drained, her arms still crossed.

“Don’t go too far,” Thomas called to Simon.

“Why don’t you go play with him?” Victoria said. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“I’m going…later,” Thomas replied. “Why were you crying earlier? Was it him?”

“Yes. He sent word.”

“I don’t want him to come back.”

“Don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”

“You said that before. And you always end up believing him.”

“I got an order from the judge so he can’t come to the house; don’t worry. Right now, go play with your brother.”

Jeremy fixed his eyes on Victoria’s neck as she sat alone. Her hair. Her delicate shoulder. The effect was almost carnal. More stimulating than if he could actually touch her. He inhaled slowly, trying to catch her scent. Then he heard
her sobbing. She tried to stifle her tears so Thomas wouldn’t notice. She was so close to Jeremy and so unhappy. He almost got up to take her in his arms and comfort her. A phone rang. Victoria dug her hand in her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. She coughed to clear away her sobs.

“Hello,” she said in a small voice. “No, everything’s fine. No, I don’t have any news. I sent him what he asked for and a letter to go with it. Yes, I know what you’re going to tell me. Maybe you’re right. But you know what? I’m going crazy too. Kind of ironic, isn’t it? No, don’t worry. I’m not taking any risks. Even if it’s true, I’d rather he be unhappy during his rare hours of clarity than my children and me our whole lives.”

Thomas came back and gave his mother a quizzical look.

“It’s Pierre, my love. Go play with your brother.”

The boy walked away.

“Thomas wanted to know who was calling. He doesn’t leave my side, the little dove. He’s so worried about me. Can you imagine, at his age, knowing this kind of pain? He tries to comfort me when he’s just as scared. Last night he woke up screaming. He had a nightmare. And he still wets his bed. His therapist says that we have to keep him
as far away as possible from the problems while still telling him the truth. It’s the brutality of what’s going on that devastates him.

“Simon? No, Simon’s different. He doesn’t say anything. He pretends like nothing’s happening. He retreats into his own little world. But I know he’s just as sad. I think he doesn’t want to add to my suffering. He’s trying to protect me too, in his own way. Oh my God, everything is difficult today. Every time, I think I won’t make it. I’m sorry. I’m talking about myself too much. How are you? Is everything all right with Clotilde?” Victoria listened carefully, nodding.

“She only got back this afternoon? Where was she? Damn it, Pierre, you deserve an explanation. You can’t just let her do anything she wants because you’re afraid of losing her. What’s happened to us, Pierre? It wasn’t that long ago we were happy.”

Pierre talked for a while, and Victoria listened as she watched the children play. Then she hung up, put the phone back in her pocket, and hunched over again. Jeremy realized just how much strife he had created for his wife and children. He was horrified. She was there, right in front of him, desperate, tired, at the end of her rope. He was a monster.

“Thomas, Simon, let’s go inside. It’s starting to get cold.” Victoria stood up and watched her two sons come close to her.

They walked away. Jeremy saw their silhouettes melt into the soft light of that spring evening as they walked toward the door.

Night had almost fallen when he decided to leave his hiding place, groggy and overwhelmed with sadness. He had to do something. He didn’t have much time left.

He wasn’t very far from a synagogue on Pavée Street. His tears plunged him into a sort of drunkenness and he walked without hearing or seeing much of anything. He emerged from his numbness in front of the house of prayer. Over the intercom, a voice asked for his name.

“I’m Jeremy Delègue. I’d like to see the rabbi.”

“Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“No, but it’s important. Very important,” he answered firmly.

“I’m afraid you’ll need an appointment. I’m his assistant, and I can set one up for you…Next week if it’s really urgent.”

“I can’t. Tonight I’m going…I’m going away.”

Two or three seconds passed.

“Are you part of our community?”

“No. My father went once or twice a long time ago, but…I need to see the rabbi.”

“That’s not really an option, sir. Our security rules prevent us from letting people in after hours.”

“I don’t care about your rules!” Jeremy croaked. “You have to help people in need!”

He pounded on the door with both fists. “Open up! Open up!”

“Sir…Please wait a moment. We’ll take care of you.”

Jeremy slid against the door, leaning on the thick wood. He breathed slowly. After a few minutes, someone called to him. Someone he hadn’t heard arrive.

“Stand up. Face the wall.”

Jeremy looked up, but a light blinded him. He put his hand over his eyes to see who was speaking.

“Don’t do anything stupid. Get up slowly.”

He saw a police officer’s hat. Then another one just behind him. A car with its lights turned off had come to a stop in front of him.

“What do you want?” Jeremy asked the officer who pointed the flashlight at his face, his other hand on his gun.

“I want you to get up nice and easy, without making a scene.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted to see the rabbi. I have to talk to him.”

“The rabbi is gone. We’re the ones you’re going to talk to.”

As soon as Jeremy got up, four hands turned him around, shoving him against the door, pulling his arms behind his back, and slapping cuffs on his wrists.

Another voice spoke up, this one softer.

“Don’t hurt him. He’s probably just distraught.”

Jeremy saw a face nearby, the face of the young assistant, a gabbai. He had a thin beard, and framed by circular silver glasses, his large, dark eyes seemed to beg forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s for our safety. The rabbi was attacked recently. And if they tell me everything’s…fine…then I’ll set up an appointment for you with the rabbi as early as next week.”

“It’ll be too late,” Jeremy said plaintively. “Too late.”

Jeremy was in an office alone, hands cuffed.

The detectives had interrogated him without much conviction. They were quickly satisfied by his explanation.

“My wife and me, we’re separated. I fell apart. I wanted to see the rabbi so he could help me.”

“And why was it so urgent?” the detective had asked.

“Because tomorrow…I’m going on a trip.”

He didn’t look like a madman on the loose. He looked like a man who’d been abandoned and betrayed. So they’d given up on the anti-Semite idea and went to verify some information. As soon as he felt exhaustion start to anesthetize his arms and legs, a new idea crossed Jeremy’s mind. An idea both brilliant and terrifying.

This is it. I’m going to fall asleep, and everything will start over again. But this time I won’t let that repulsive part of myself do any more damage
.

Wracked with chills, he went over the different symptoms in his mind one by one, slowly, trying to put some distance between himself and the pain. This time he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d be less afraid. He was going to welcome the old, bearded man without trembling. But first he had to go through with his plan. One that would get his wife and
children away from the malice and the vengeance of his other self.

Jeremy screamed as loud as he could. A detective rushed into the room.

“Why are you yelling like that?”

“I have a confession to make.”

“A confession? What confession?” The detective looked surprised and a little annoyed. He had been about to go home when Jeremy had screamed.

“I deal coke. Go to my apartment; you’ll find a whole pile of it.”

The detective, dumbfounded, gazed at this docile man who was admitting a crime no one suspected him of, all the while smiling.

Yes, Jeremy smiled. He laughed inwardly at the trap he had set for his dark side. His wife and children would finally be rid of him. The detective questioned Jeremy. Jeremy didn’t answer. Serene, he gave in to his fatigue, ready to be done with everything and make room for the other—the one who would wake up to a scene that Jeremy had set in motion.

What can an old man do to me anyway? With his prayers and suffering and oblivion
. Jeremy waited, smiling.

The few rays of sunlight that crept through the bars of the window dissolved easily in the white neon light. A man stared at Jeremy from a steel bed exactly like his own, tray on his knees, slowly chewing a piece of bread. The man’s eyes were cold and heavy. His impressive musculature testified to an animal force that was capable of surfacing at any moment in order to seize its prey. His face was thick, and his features looked to have been shaped by a hail of fists.