Authors: Veronique Olmi
Kevin threw himself at me, his head against my stomach and his arms round my waist, he tried to squeeze but he’s got so little strength I could hardly feel him. Stan didn’t say anything. How long was it since I’d taken Stan in my arms? I couldn’t say. I’m taking you to the fair, I said. My voice was wrong, I didn’t want to say it like that, in a whisper, I’d like to have said it all loud and happy, the kids didn’t react. I took a deep breath and tried to shout, I’m taking you to the fair! but it came out faded and tired… the boys didn’t move. Mind you, I’d have sworn they’d have followed me to the ends of the earth, but I realized the three of us didn’t need to talk to each other any more. We could do things. Anything. The weirdest, craziest things. But without talking. We followed each other instinctively. We were sure of ourselves, like animals who never question, who just know what you should do and what you shouldn’t.
We went back to the room and got ready. They got ready, choosing sweaters for the fair, trousers for the fair and even socks. No one would see them, it was too dark, but they felt smart. The evening was beginning. I just dried my hair a bit but the towel was very damp… anyway, what with the rain… drenched outside, drenched inside, what was the difference? They did their hair looking at themselves in the window, You can see yourself in the dark! said Kevin, Yeah! Stan said in a gangster
voice, better watch out, Kevin, you’re twice as strong in the dark! I made the bed so that it would be warm when we got back, I went through the motions, the same ones we go through at home. We put our wet jackets back on, nothing seemed to dry them, they weren’t waterproofs, they were sponges, just putting them on was like going out into the cold.
The stairs prepared us for being outside, too, and for being seen. But there was no one there. On each floor we thought we might come across someone, be surprised, be their neighbour, but not a soul, not a trace, nothing. I do think I heard a noise on the fourth floor. Something falling, breaking. That was all. Six floors of brown, of fire exits, banisters, silence and, downstairs, the smell of sausages. Still no one in the foyer.
The rain had eased up outside, floating in little wafts, the air was wet, there wasn’t really anything coming out of the sky, not properly, it was like the clouds had come down to earth and were dying of boredom. The ground was soaking, puddles all over the place, we slipped on tyre tracks and other people’s footprints as if we were all trampling on each other, never in sync, no one actually being the first to put their feet in any one place.
The boys took my hands and at almost exactly the same time the street lights came on: we were royalty. I thought about the bus coming again and
people getting off, like yesterday, visitors arriving in this damp town every evening, but to do what? Yes, people arrive here every evening and no one knows why, no one gives a stuff, they come, they go, it doesn’t bother anyone, doesn’t make anyone happy either, it’s just movement, a bit of noise, no surprises, nothing to worry about.
I knew how to get to the funfair. You had to head out of town, towards the main road, that’s what the man said. Fairs are often next to a main road, so the music doesn’t disturb anyone. It’s like with prisons, or nursing homes, anything that doesn’t fit in with the surroundings happens near main roads, where laws aren’t the same and pain is different.
I soon knew I was heading in the right direction: I saw sparkling lights driving back the darkness, and I could hear music. There, that’s the fair. The boys still didn’t ask any questions, they walked in silence, I felt they trusted me, they believed in me, yes, they believed in me completely.
We were gradually surrounded by people. Couples, groups of teenagers, I couldn’t see any children… what was the time? Hard to believe it’s exactly the same time for everyone at the same moment, hard to believe we have such important things in common. People were talking very loudly. They were digging each other in the ribs, they were joshing each other and laughing, pretending to be
annoyed, the boys were pinching the girls and the girls had high heels and lipstick, I never looked like them, even at their age, and anyway I never was their age.
We weren’t very far from it now, we could hear the music really loud but couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make out what the singer was saying, what he was bawling about, yes, it seemed a sad sort of song. The lights carved into the sky, threw up little fireworks, it was really strange to think we were going to step into that light, and take on a bit of colour.
People were running round us, overtaking us, they looked happy, were they the same people you came across in broad daylight? Was this a surprise for them, too, or did they always live like this, with a funfair next to the main road? I didn’t recognize them, I wouldn’t have dared pull faces at them behind their backs, they were so happy, they seemed strong.
What surprised me as soon as we got there was the smell. A reek of cooking oil and sugar, a smell that couldn’t get lost in the crowd and followed everyone everywhere. It smelt greasy and everything seemed more dense than normal: the smells but also the lights, the music, the shouts, the laughter… no, you could hardly recognize these people, you’d have thought it was everyone’s birthday, a day made specially for them.
I looked at my boys, they were wide-eyed,
impressed
, yes, they were impressed. It warmed my heart. I was proud. Obviously, we didn’t feel at home there like the others, but that would come. We were feeling our way, carefully, like getting into cold water, only worse but we’d get used to it. The others were fine! They must be the same people who laugh and have fun by the sea when it’s all blue, they like being together because they’re all the same, or maybe not: they like being the same to be together… what I mean is it was difficult telling them apart.
If it wasn’t for the mud I’m sure they would have danced, but it clung to everyone’s shoes, it climbed up their legs, it churned with greasy bits of paper and spent firecrackers. With that mud you couldn’t forget where you were, in a little town beside the rain, shoehorned between the sea and the main road.
I knew what I wanted. I wanted to buy the kids some chips. Eating with your fingers was
something
Kevin and Stan really loved, and eating chips is always a treat. I looked for the truck. We went past shooting ranges and fairground rides, the boys looked but didn’t ask for anything, taking it in through their eyes, maybe they thought we were only going to look, but oh no! we were going to do what the others were doing, it wouldn’t be long, I was sure of it!
I found the chip stall. Chips. Waffles and
candyfloss
. There was a queue. We waited. Kevin had that cheeky little expression on his face, and when he saw me looking at him he rubbed his tummy, he looked happy. Stan was looking at a tall bloke in front of us, standing there with his hands in his pockets and chewing gum, and every now and then he’d kiss his girlfriend. But he always went on chewing his gum afterwards. Stan looked amazed, but the girl seemed to be used to it, she didn’t find it funny.
The truck was making a terrible noise, its battery working flat out, it was hard to hear the love song playing on the sound system, the song didn’t go with the lights, well, I didn’t think it did, because the lights were flashing away trying to be cheerful and the song was going on about this poor woman who desperately wanted to dance with some man, like she was a seventeen-year-old but apparently she was much older and the man wasn’t at all interested in her. I knew that song, I really liked it, they often played it on the radio. Take me dancing in the park, cheek to cheek in the dark… It was my turn, I ordered two paper cones of chips. I couldn’t care less if the man whinged about my coppers, It was one of the rides, I said, that’s what they gave me as change, didn’t they? They’ve done me proud, haven’t they? I involved him like that, on purpose, so he’d take the money and let me go. My kids were happy. Both of them at once.
We set off again, going right and then left, in the crowd, with the children eating their chips, and so I didn’t lose them I held on to their hoods, like I’d dragged them out of a pool of water. We wandered aimlessly, there were people everywhere, the girls talking really loud, hanging on to each other or on to their boyfriends’ arms, but always holding someone, always noisy and excited. The stallholders talked into mikes, It’s starting now! Roll up! Roll up! And we’re off! And bells rang overhead for the slowcoaches. I wondered whether in the end these people were actually happy or just in a hurry. Everyone was rushing around and it was because of all this rush that a girl knocked into Kevin and made him drop his cone of chips. He started crying. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want tears here, I didn’t want anything to happen, just for us to walk about in all that racket that’s all. I couldn’t explain that to the poor kid because I didn’t feel like shouting to make myself heard, so I carried on walking, holding him by his hood.
Stan had realized that the fair was for them, too, that they could join in, get excited, have a good shout, have their share of fun. He wanted to go on the dodgems. I said yes and paid. The cashier took the coins without really looking at them and gave me a token. The kids stood on the edge, enjoying themselves already, in anticipation. Kevin kept wiping his nose on his sleeve, but he looked relaxed
now. I sat down on a wet bench a little way away, I’ll wait for you here, I said, and their enjoyment vanished, they insisted I watched them. Hurry up then, I said, the session’s over, and they rushed out towards the cars, incredible how children always want you to watch them.
I don’t know how long it went on. The lights mingled with the sound system, becoming as
depressing
as the songs, you couldn’t see the rain but it was following us all, it felt at home, it wrote things too, but I couldn’t read them, the bells wouldn’t stop ringing, people were hurrying onto rides in every direction, where did all that money come from, everyone could afford everything, there was too much of everything everywhere, too much noise, too much rain, too many lights, all reeling past me and I didn’t know where I was any more.
Every now and then the kids would come and take more money from me and head back, they always asked if I’d seen them, I didn’t answer. They headed off again. I waited in all that bustle, that turmoil, that rushing, trying to find a quiet corner to lay my eyes, I was the only person not moving, and then eventually I found it: up in the sky there was a big wheel full of whoops and screams, I settled on that and didn’t let go. The people hung in the air for a moment then they were brought back down very fast – like in life. A breath of air and then you fall.
In the white lights of the big wheel the sky looked pale, I knew it was dark all around, nothing but darkness in every direction. And silence. I was in a furious pinpoint, with darkness all around, I was a star, old and always there, old and full of fire. I’d been thrown up into the sky, I wasn’t holding on to anything but everything around me hung on, like I was cradled by arms.
I stayed there sitting on that bench and when we had no money left the kids came and sat down next to me. I was still looking at the big wheel. I liked hearing the people scream, they weren’t real screams, nothing terrible was happening, it was wonderful. I was up there, in the white light, head down, feet in the air, I could puke up, scream with cold or joy or anger, I could do anything I wanted, I’d paid with golden coins, and down below the earth had turned upside down, a pathetic little lump, the crowd wasn’t worth anything, milling about pointlessly, birds on a dung heap.
Kevin started snivelling, I came down to look at him, he said he was tired. I went straight back up again. I could see the sea from up there, it had reached a foreign country, all the fish had gone with it, and the seaweed, and the shells, all that was left were the rocks. I wrapped myself up in the darkness, followed the motion of the wheel, it was moving for me, no need to choose a direction, you just had to let yourself go, I was still in its arms.
Kevin started sobbing and Stan pleaded with me, How do I get back down to earth? I wondered, it felt so good in this volcano spitting flashes of light, don’t feel like letting go and falling into the freezing cold mud, churned up by everyone’s shoes, spread thick on the ground, no really, don’t feel like landing in that mess.
Stan stood himself in front of me, I couldn’t see the white light any more, I came back down in freefall, my head spinning while my body stayed still, Stan was shouting that we had to go back and go to bed, that Kevin was tired, that Kevin had been sick, that Kevin was crying, that Kevin was coughing, Stan was blocking the big wheel from view, with his wet hair and his huge mouth, I hardly recognized him. I looked over at the littl’un, he was sobbing, his shoulders shuddering, snot running from his nose over his mouth, and his legs kicking at thin air. The fun was over.
The cold had accumulated inside me without my realizing and it spread right through me when I stood up. My hair made my neck wet, icy droplets ran down my back, the rain always wins in the end if you don’t watch it, the rain never forgets anyone.
I took Kevin by the hand and we left that funfair, going against the tide, in the opposite direction to the crowd, as usual. My back was stiff, I’d have liked it to be broken and then put back in place, I
couldn’t feel my feet any more, I was walking with planks at the ends of my legs.
We’d hardly left the funfair before we were plunged back into darkness, we could still hear the music and the screams in the distance, and the bells ringing, and the Roll up! Roll up! but it wasn’t for us any longer, it was forgotten. No one will remember my little boys in their dodgem. What was the time? Still evening? Night time already? And the morning, when was that? Who was it for?
We walked on in silence in the dark, and the rain came with us while the funfair disappeared behind us, along with the girls who still had age on their side and the men hanging on to their arms, everything was getting smaller, their lives buried in the darkness. Where are those people when they aren’t at the funfair? Maybe the girls sold shoes and the men were mechanics or delivered pizzas? Maybe they only laughed at the fair and the rest of the time they were just getting ready for it? Getting ready for that, I mean, for the fair. So their men didn’t mind draining fuel from old cars, they knew that at the funfair they’d be the strongest, the proudest, ready to fight if they had to. Soon they’d be telling everyone about it, talking about it in cafés, hitching up their balls in their trousers, it’s called memories. Me, I haven’t got any. Everything that’s happened is lost.