35. The trace


The fury of the storm became a tornado. The wind tore on the crests. Its howl roars in the valley like a thousand of furious lions of mountains. The trees folded up and the rocks plowed the ground which quivered.

The walls of the monastery vibrated and cracks appeared between the stones which separated. The wind was engulfed and the monks were afraid of this anger of the nature which worsened from silence to silence.

The trees and the rocks swept by the wind encumbered the torrent which howled its anger to be thus shackled. The blocked waters downstream accumulated, where the river made a meander and where it was possible to work few gardens. The ground left with the waters which invaded it and rolled on it with a clucking of the one which sucks the blood of the life.

The fear invaded the monastery. Hiro tried to control his monks with his eyes of killer, his saber of combat in the hand. But he could not do anything in front of this fury which invaded everything and even the heart of the men who feared to uprightly.

When the wind took away the roof of the temple, they precipitated in the refectory. This older stone construction was placed in the hollow of the small valley and they thought of being sheltered in it. But waters came by the Sky and they accumulated there. In the slowness of the death which goes up and pushes the life, water seeped under the doors. The monks tried to block it with covers, but it accumulated against the wood. Outside the courtyard became a brook, then a lake.

They could flee nowhere. The walls and the courtyards of the monastery remained their only still possible refuge. Outside, the Demon of violence gave fully. Its laughter scratched each piece of the life of the ground and tried to swallow it.

-I do not want to die, says the young monk… the one who had already asked what wanted to say the young White with his words “you do not know what you are doing! ”

- you will die as all of us if the Gods have decided thus, says one of the oldest.

He had sat down on a table and he drew up the body in posture of meditation. He wanted to leave with dignity the life of this earth. Water went up in the refectory and they had to pull their dress up to the knees.


Hiro had disappeared when the wind took away the roof of the temple. In the Secret Room, the Master laid unconscious. Dried blood marbled his cheeks and his neck.

“Still alive! ”

Hiro took him in his arms and as a child whom one carries to the bed, he climbed the steps integrated in the base of the wood statue of the sitting Buddha.

The wind and the rain seized them when he pushed the door dissimulated in the back of the Buddha.

« They must not see the Master in this state! »

He benefitted from a gust of wind which pushed all the monks to take refuge in the refectory to run with all his force and to cross the principal courtyard like a hardly visible wink. When he arrived at the pavilion of the Master, he deposited the body on his bed. All remained intact here, like the pavilion of the young White.

« The fury of the world has not touched here! »

He undressed the old man and began the resuscitation of his thin body. He knows that it will take a long time to him and he forgot the monastery, the monks, everything… Only the Master under his hands was his world.

Heidi had seen him running through the small garden holding against his chest the thin carcass of the Master.

“It is the catastrophe!” she let out with the tip of the lips.

But no compassion left out her heart. She felt in her body that it is them which caused this outburst of the elements of the Earth and the Heaven. She also knows in her body that it is them which caused the vacuum in the bed of the young White.

She was on the veranda of the pavilion of the young White.

« I would wait for you here, my Angel »


Tong slipped into the temple. He passed along side the walls of the courtyard. He wanted to be identical with the wall. The wind pushed the rain in its violence and the roof streamed on the head of the Buddha.

The monk had seen Hiro crossing the courtyard while running, the Master between his arms.

« Ah! So the Master was there! »

He let the monks being engulfed in the refectory. They did not notice his absence. He penetrated in a dark corner, then he slipped against the stones of the walls to reach the entry of the Temple. The doors beat under the wind.

It is the wind which leads him in the rear room, that of the sitting wooden Buddha. The noise of a beating door questioned him because there was no door in this room apart from the one giving access to the principal room.

He discovered the door behind the statue. It beat under the wind which came from the roof and also from the staircases which penetrated in the base of the Buddha. A light came from donwstairs and he is led by his hand on the wall of the rock to guide himself in his descent.

The light of the day gave enough to realize the width of the room under the temple, dug in the rock.

« The famous Secret Room! »

The wind was engulfed by the burst bay giving on the chasm of the torrent. He discovered all the Books of the Family… thousands of books!

He knew having few time in front of him. He must use the zero point that the young White had taught to him. Thus his body was attracted by a line of books near the open bay. They had all as main title « The Silent Tracker »… then each one had a subtitle… « the swirl »… « the maffia »… « the mothe »… « the father »…

He passed quickly and went at the end of the line of books. The last book had as title « The one who has killed him ». He received a shock in his belly and took the book that he slipped under his dress.

But the tingling in his hands says to him that “everything” was not accomplished. So he let himself be guided and on his knees he discovered another book which had slipped under the piece of furniture against the rock wall. The leather cover had marks of blood. With the tip of the finger he felt that this blood was recent, a few hours. The title was « The Silent Tracker and the Child ». The book vibrated strongly in his hand which filled with pain. He also slipped it into his belt under the dress and his belly burnt.

A noise came from the staircase. The monk slipped behind a curtain. He was not afraid. He was ready to kill. He knew in his heart that he had against his belly the Truth which he has felt vibrating since days in this monastery. He will go until the end of his discovery! He felt that this discovery will lead him to this Liberation that he has yearned for with all his fibers since his childhood, since he remembers to exist.

Hiro appeared. He held a lit resin torch. He was anxious. He looked at in all the directions, as if he was looking for something. He approached the place where the Master had fallen and he slipped the torch close to the ground. He looked for the Book of « the Child ». When the Master recovered consciousness, it was his first words:

- Go and look for the Book of « the Child »… It has slipped from my hands when the wind made exploded my consciousness and that a hand crushed my nape of the neck.

Hiro looked for. He slipped flat on his face on the ground, the torch in the end of his arm.

Tong moved slowly behind the curtain and passed along side the wall. Thus he arrived near the staircase and whereas Hiro passed his head under a heavy table, in a flexible movement he climbed the first steps. He had his breath in the zero point such as the young White had taught to him and he felt propelled by a force which was not him. No fear, no uncertainty. A perfect gesture!

He went up the staircase, left the door open like Hiro had left it and slipped without noise into the two rooms. Before slipping away in the courtyard, he remained a long moment to observe the space in front of him.

« Nobody must know! »


- Read me that, asked Heidi.

The book of « the Child » burned in his palm. It is it that she took immediately when Tong showed him his lucky find and explained to her the presence of the Secret Room under the temple.

She hardly listened. The story with Hiro did not touch her attention. She was captured by the second book in the hands of Tong. That one twisted her entrails and her heart wanted to cry. Thus she took it from his hands. She almost tore it off. She opened it and it was let see in its middle. The words ran in front of her eyes and she saw blood which ran from them. She did not know to read. So she says to Tong:

- Read me what is there!

He was surprised because that was an order. He sat down near the oil lamp and he started to decipher the letters.

Heidi sat down opposite him and united her hands on her heart. Then she closed the eyes and listened.


The inn


Angel was hungry but he wanted to see the water running out freely. He went up the Avenue and an empty taxi gave him the desire. He hailed it and the big Volvo came against the double line of car in a flexible movement.

- Go out of Paris towards the Marne and find me a sympathetic restaurant close to water.

The driver turned round and the glance sufficed to conclude that he did not have to deal with a nutcase.

Angel did not want to speak; just to let himself be rocked.

- Do not go too quickly.

He ate fish under a willow which shaded the corner of the terrace. The water ran peacefully before his feet at less than three meters.

He did not say anything and one has curiously observed him at the beginning; the regulars who had an aperitif, then two or three fishermen who came back with their fishing rodes and who spoke about the bites of the morning… But that it was not like last year. The owner confirmed « with all these new factories… »

The large woman who sat enthroned behind the cashier threw him glances while answering the jokes of the others.

- Hey! Germaine… Of what are you thinking.

- Of nothing …

He knew that he astonished her with his glass of juice fruit but he was quiet. « Small Father » was to have taken care of the absence of photograph of him.

He astonished her, at most. She had asked to him if he was a fisherman. He had smiled, without answering.

She had discussed with the taxi driver who had had the aperitif. They knew each other.

Now, he is accepted and one does not look at him anymore, except of wanting to fill his plate once again.

- But really! … only one trout roasted and some rice… and that is enough for you!

- But look at him Germaine! … the Mister he does not have flesh under the skin.

- Not astonishing that you are tired!

- You have rooms?

- Three… But it is not a true hotel here… Rather an inn of end of the week. The toilets are on the stage and there is no bathtub, only one shower.

- That suits me completely.

- For one night?

- I do not know.

- I said it well to you Germaine! … the Mister he wants to relax and you do not let him quiet with your questions…

-Sorry Mister! You know how curious the women are! You are married?

- No.

- And you who says to me that I am curious!

- I do not have any luggage… Neither toothbrush, nor razor.

- The good deal! … Albert will give you all that, won't you Albert?

- Mister shaves with a razor blade, I suppose.

- Yes.

- Then, I have a razor from my grand father who will suit you, I am sure. I will sharpen it.

He says to them that he would like to walk along the water. They indicated a path while bickering, like usual. They never agreed but all that wanted to say « my sweet heart ».


The President


- Mr. President, that was foreseeable!

- What, Mister the Adviser?

- But… This true brothel puts by this Angel Bret!

- I do not see of what you are speaking, Mister the Adviser.

- But, Mr. President… This conference that you must hold in a moment.

- Yes, and well?

- But it is… It is necessary to deny! … Because of him…

- I still do not understand of what you are speaking, Mister the Adviser…

- Mr. President… You remember that at five p.m. you have a Press conference…

- I am not yet doddery, Mister the Adviser, although some people let run rumors on my health and the remnants of my intelligence.

- I did not want to insinuate, Mr. President…

- I am quite sure of that, Mister the Adviser.

- But… Bret… This killer of the Shin Family.

- But what! Mister the Adviser. He does very well his job. He kills.

- But…

- Ah! Mister the Adviser… You are only « Adviser », only. You notice the difference.

- Yes, Mr. President.

- I am delighted, Mister the Adviser… Then, thus, if I understand you well, you express a certain anguish for this press conference “required “by these journalists.

- Yes, Mr. President.

- Then, know, Mister the Adviser, that me, on the contrary, I am delighted because that avoid me to find an excuse to cause it.

- I do not understand, Mr. President.

- It is why you are only Adviser.

- Yes, Mr. President.

- I am delighted of your agreement, Mister the Adviser… Therefore, since you agreed to question me in a so delicate way, I assure you that Mr BRET « works for me »… that I made him come from Asia, to very precisely put the brothel, and that I am very satisfied with his services because he succeeds very well in doing it. Here all what I will say to the journalists.

- But WHY?

- But Mister the Adviser, the reason is simple: when the First of the French realizes that the « employees of the State » estimate to have the right, What I say! , the POWER, to regulate their businesses to their liking without US, who remain in the ignorance of the facts, this First of the French, to achieve the task the PEOPLE entrusted to him, can only ask for foreign aid and consequently WE will thank very warmly these journalists who take part with effectiveness in the research of the Truth.

- But YOU will say to them that Bret is not civil servant! …

- Completely… A free and independent organization at the disposal of the Princes.

- But… Killers!

- That, Mister the Adviser, I will not say to them… France does not need to know our deep thoughts on the mechanisms of social cleansing.

- It is… Mr. President! …

- Mister the Adviser, THAT will call to ORDER all those who, these times, play their game behind US. You will see them very soon requesting audiences whereas for the moment they do not even answer my mail.


The peace of the river


He came back in the evening, the muddy shoes that he rubbed carefully on the door mat. The inn-keeper observed him behind his case.

- Come on, Albert! It is not you who would do the same!

- So, Mister, has the walk be good?

- Delicious. What a calm, around here!

- Too much, if you want to know… People are not anymore as before… The taverns, the rooms to dance at the water's edge while murmuring sweet nothings to each other, it is no more of our time I tell you!

- Come on, Germaine… Must not too much criticize; we are lucky compared to others which had to close.

- Luck! Come on Albert! … It is hard up my dear Mister… It is quite simple, each year we think that we will close!

- It is quite true! … But as we live there since always…

- We think that well, since we are here! We can open…

- It is quite true, Germaine.

- Well, my Albert, we should not annoy Mister with our concern. What a shame! You were not there for the sketch of the President.

-We must not criticize, he has well spoken!

-Of course! He could not make differently with the case of this kid… You are informed?

- A little.

- The Mister, he is a recluse, it is obvious.

- But you have heard what the newspapers say… and now the President who promises « exemplary sanctions » he says!

- Although with him, between the words and reality, there is a world… Oh! sorry Mister… I would not like to criticize somebody that you like perhaps.

- No… I am not interested in politics.

- Hey, what I told you Germaine… The Mister he looks like a wise man.

- Shut up Albert… The Mister does not need to know that we speaks about him when his back is turned; perhaps what he doesn't like, do you Mister?

- What thus did the President say?

- That one, we were impressed… nothing to say, he knows to make impression. You realize!, he said that the famous Special Superintendent that he made SPECIALLY come from China for the case COLA, and well, hold on well Mister, it seems that it is a false.

- Yes, Mister, a false Superintendent…!

- A false everything, what… One does not know what he is really! Like a draft… that passes, that returns, that goes away!

- Yes, he said that it is « foreign labor », TE! I have well remember the sentence because for me, I do not agree! With all the unemployment that there is in our country!

- Yes, but it seems, Albert that there was not this speciality available in France… At least, it is what I have believed to understand.

- Yes, Me too… But all the same, foreign labor! It looks pretty bad.

- Well, the Mister must be hungry… Still not an aperitif; it is my round.

- Thank you, I do not drink alcohol.

- It is not alcohol… A pastis!

- You are well seen Albert that the Mister he does not even drink wine at table!

He ate a vegetable soup, then again fish then a little of cheese. He was not in a hurry since STÉPH had already died. Things were held as he wanted them.

On the terrace the weather was fresh and wet. The owner came three times to advise him to return. He smiled, at least she believed it seing the stretching of the lips towards the ears.

He knew that Yoko waited for him and was worrying, that Chity remained close to the phone, that Mrs Broussard watched the noises in the street… Everybody waited for him… Marc Antoine too, surely around the public garden or close to José’s home… Everybody counted on him. Even Stéphane who also lied to him, like the others.

In a moment he will go up in his room and on the small balcony which overhangs the river he will fold two covers to do a cushion of them and will take the position of meditation. Very quickly his slow breathing in the belly will lead him elsewhere than at the men.




-It is beautiful, says Heidi… What Gentleness!

- I think that I start to understand, says Tong.

- What tenderness, says the young woman.

- It is the vibration which I felt these days around the young White, Tong added.

- He is also named « Angel », says Heidi the tears in the eyes… You think that it is the same one? … « ours » she asks.

But she knows that it is the same one. She takes the book from the hands of Tong and carries it to her cheek. She caresses it with her skin and with her lips.

- I love this Angel Bret … He has the same odor as « mines », here… My « Angel »

- I believe that the Master and Hiro have programmed a beautiful filth here!

- That does not have importance, says Heidi, the eyes in the vacuum of the night in front of them.

-- Why? asked the monk.

- Because it is not possible to kill what cannot be killed.

- I do not understand.

- One cannot kill the Love… and these words are love in each one of their sound… I like your manner of reading them, Tong… Thank you.

The long monk did not understand well. But the young woman was smiling, like relieved of a weight. Thus he also let himself to rest his head on her shoulder and he felt asleep thus.

She let him do and she supported him a big part of the night. The silence of the black in front of her and the noise of the night still giving all the violence of its elements did not frighten her anymore.

-I know now how to join you « my Angel »… I will take the way that you show me.

-… I will follow your Trace! … and I would find you where you are.

The smile increases her lips and she cried gently over the life which runs without violence in the love of the true heart.