Is this really your dream life? (The End – Chapter 1, Part 2)

The End

Chapter one – Part two

(click here if you’ve missed the beginning)

The phone rang. Good. I needed that to bring me back to the café and out of my memories. Marie wanted to know at what time she should expect me to be home. I told her that right away was a great idea.

The young woman appeared at the corner of the Rue de Mézières. Same smile. Same purple hair. I pretended not to notice her. A bit ridiculous, I know. Who was I trying to fool? Myself? Not her, that’s for sure.

“Mr. Bond?…”
“I… I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else. Do I look like an Englishman?”

This is a contender for my worst answer ever.

“You’re hard to get hold of these days, Mr. Bond.”
“And there are reasons for that, my dear. May I know why all these theatrics?”
“The Taulier was afraid that without proper persuasion, you would flee. After all the trouble we went through to find you, please understand that this was not desirable.”
“I do understand. Unfortunately, and please know that I am impressed by your success in finding me, this is exactly what is going to happen.”
“Come on, Mr. Bond. We both know it’s too late to run. I’ve found you. I’ve contacted you. We’re having this conversation right now. Whether you like it or not, this fantasy is coming to an end. The sooner the better.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” I sighed.
“Why wouldn’t I be? Is this really your dream life? A nostalgic bourgeois cliché of 20th century St-Germain-des-Prés? I can’t help but feel a little disappointed after all the things I’ve heard about you.”
“I can assure you that these stories are much more interesting than the real me.”
“Please, allow me to doubt that, Mr. Bond. Yet I understand. We always dream of what we can’t have, don’t we? A comfortable, predictable, boring life?”
“Did you come all this way to psychoanalyze me?”
“No. I’m sorry, Mr. Bond.”
“And please stop calling me Mr. Bond!”
“What should I call you, Mr… Sorry… What should I call you?”
“Bond. Just Bond.”
“Understood… Bond…”

She said my name more slowly this time, paying special attention to the sound that came out of her mouth. Her tone changed a little. It was as if dropping that silly ‘Mr.’ made me more real in her eyes. It was as if she finally realized that she was talking to the real me. It was no longer a dress rehearsal. It was happening. In the old days, I would have been flattered.
Before I could say anything, she spoke again with the same expression as earlier, exuding more confidence than her age should allow.

“Actually, it’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy getting to know you, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. So, if you don’t mind, we should get going.”
“Can I at least say goodbye to my wife and kids? I live two minutes away.”
“What’s the point? You know as well as I do that there is no point.”
“I… there is one… I just need it, okay?!”

She didn’t answer. I was not going to let her discuss it.

*****

As I came down the stairs, drying a tear, the girl with the purple hair was waiting for me on the street. She tried to give me a sympathetic smile. I couldn’t blame her for not being able to understand.

“How long was I gone?” I asked.
“A few months. And we’ve been looking for you for a good two weeks.”
“I see. That’s quite a jump.”
“How long has it been for you?”
“About 18 years.”
“I see. Yes, that’s quite a big jump. Are you ready?”
“Are we ever really ready?”

She held my hands, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

When she exhaled, the street and the walls swayed. She inhaled again, and everything wobbled even more. I looked up, trying to catch the living room window, but the outline of the apartment was already blurred. The street was shifting. On the third exhalation, the buildings and everything else disappeared. Guillaume Trabarel, his career, his perfect family and his well-ordered life disappeared with them.

(to be continued)

Author(s)

DavidB

Frenchman, exiled on the other side of the planet, DavidB writes. It's not always very good, but who cares, the goal is to write. Sometimes, he also does other things.

MetaStructure is one of his longest-running projects. It was started in the early 2000s. Stopped many times. Started over a few times. Let's hope this time is the right one.