27. What is around…
The hairs of the young White were all frizzy under the fabric of the tunic. The sharp air was not the origin of it. He knew this reaction of his body: one activated a magic action on him!
He walked on the path which went up the torrent. He took small steps… like an old wary woman and who is afraid of touching the ground and of stumbling over the stones.
The more he moved away from the monastery, the less this shiver quivered on his skin. His hairs were leaning and took again their flexibility.
When the buildings were only brown spots placed on the ground, Gentleness caressed his body again. Then he passed the crest and he penetrated in the wind of the plateau. The valley of the monastery did not exist anymore. Only the steel of the cold surrounded him!
The heaviness of the body and the shivers left him. The bones became sensitive to his Breath again.
“That thus really comes from this space there! …. the monastery! ”
Then he advanced on the flat part cut by the ice of the wind, until the memory of the monastery disappears in his body.
When he regained fully consciousness of himself, such as his body knew his body, he returned slowly. He passed the crests and he accepted in his chest the shock of the radiation of the buildings which appeared in the hollow of the valley, very close from the precipice of the torrent.
“It is really that… There inside one proceeds to a magic against me! ”
Then he descended the slope, attentive to each quivering of his body, each feeling of his organs. Thus he learned which movement one tried to print in him.
“They want to immobilize me! … bastards! ”
Because the immobilization was the worst situations for him! … The death of the strength of his spirit was at the end of this motionless state. Yam cannot live in a motionless space… in a slow and limited space, it will be in anger. The fury will be his daily bread… but the immobility is the worst because that is the death of his vibration…
“But I would be then their nourishment because I should remain in their space! … It is that which They want…”
The wind continued in his hair as long as he remained on the crests. His Intelligence said to him in his body the reality of the action against him.
“It is you… senile old man! … That can only be you! ”
It was now time to go down again in the valley. Behind his forehead the interrogation was placed: “but why at the same time I love you so much! ”
Now with long strides, he reached the enclosure of the monastery and jumped over the low wall of the small garden of his pavilion.
The combat became clearer!
The old Master caressed with his palm the Book of the second mission of his son “of before”. All the night he read again the words registered by the scribes of the Family. He knew them now… not only the sense in his heart… but they were also printed in his spirit. he used his powers of the memory to retain each syllable, each breathing of his son “of before”.
Now he could settled in the lotus position, the breath in his belly, the heart in the deepest of the Earth of the Men. He was ready to use the radiation of his son “of before” to soak his son of “now”.
“Thus you will recognize You in each one of your fibers… and your memory will come back… from this time when you loved the Men… Thus you will remain with us… because you are curious… and I hope that you have not understood yet in your wounded heart that it is by the curiosity that the Devil holds the man in his House and has organized his separation with the Essential Dignity of the Universe”.
He opened the lips. Sounds came from the deepest of his belly. These sonorities sounded as the wind which bumps into the wood and which makes it groan.
He started to tell one by one the words of the Book of the meeting between his son of before and the assassinated child.
The air quivers.
Extract of the book of the Shin Family
3. The Police
There is still a thing which disturbs me. WE, we are killers. Not cops. Besides, there is a characterial incompatibility between us.
To tell the truth, as I have always promised you to tell you the truth and only the truth, we have not the same look on the social cleaning-up.
THEY go further!
THEY chase after us!
It is not possible, this thing!
It is the vice of this bloody society which makes us pay taxe, no any tax exemption, the national insurance contributions, the contribution for the continuing education of the young people, the label… the bribes… and into final, THEY get up on our nerves.
Besides, no need to be killer. Choose for example an art less… how to say? … less specialized, requiring less personal investment, in a word, a less noble art… for example, I do not know, me… look: craftsman. And well, it is the same difference!
If my memories are good, one had cut the head to a king for less than that. But what surprises me, it is that it continues to exist. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment. Honestly!
But when one looks at it better, one realizes that those who settle these suctions and put them in practice, are also the guys who are sucked. Hey? That didn't astonish you a little bit?
If the subject interests you, write me a letter. We could, for example, look at very closely what develops the structure of the first two human brains, the reptilian and the limbic one.
Unless you prefer to follow me in the kensho. There, it is the manner of the Heaven! But if the earth holds your feet too much, there is possibility of understanding by there. But ALAS, not to go out of there.
And it is very precisely with this articulation of comprehension that you got conned by all the psychiatrists. At each time.
Thus, me, us, the SHIN family, our structure of comprehension is not the one of the cops.
Why thus “Small Father” has given me this case? You will agree with me, at least I hope, that one enters a traditional police inquiry, even if the Frank police has withdrawn. It is sad for the Stephan to be murdered at 12 years, you admit it? But it is job of cop.
I cannot get that tune out of my head since my departure from Asia. I inform you to hide nothing to you, as promised.
Then, for me, there is only one true data on which I can lean on: it is necessary to believe in “Small Father”. This old block of Asian all wrinkled and as cunning as a fox, which he imitates besides to perfection, believe me! He wants to put to me to the test again. A manner of using external events which do not look at us a priori, to oblige me to leave the stupidities that I still keep in me.
You can see that this investigation is double.
There is the Stéph.
There is me.
A manner that he also has to tell me that I can go there postage and packing paid. You think well that I have understood direct the authorization to mess around! I believe that one will laugh a lot.
And initially, the cops, I do not like. Visceral. There is one suspect whiff in the choice of this profession. While the one of killer, it is something! that it is beautiful people!
Be astonished, after all that I have just told you, that I turn up at the police station the hands in the pockets and my more beautiful smile on my face.
There, I go a little too far.
The bloody ackward thing to have promised you to tell the truth and only the truth, it is that I cannot talk crap with you. You had noticed? Thus, I went too far.
When I arrive at the cops station, management department, I begin to park the heap in front of the pavement, red and white. The officer in the sentry-box rushes, very dribbling, already happy to go for a guy in jaguar.
- Hey! YOU! … where do you believe to be?
The YOU turns the head, leaves the bike and closes the door.
The HE, he remains speechless about it. I want to say to him to pay attention to the flies which pass, but my good will is stopped by his paw which encloses my arm with movement of pushed for surely putting me flat on the belly on the bonnet.
Good sort, there does not have two like me. I am really easy-going!
I do not resist to his push. HE, he accentuates his movement, sure to see the action through successfully according to his handbook… and HE, he is found lying on the bonnet. As it has rained and that it is slipping, HE, he continued his thrown in the void and as very surely his head is too heavy with celestial thoughts, the shock with the edge of the pavement has made a soft noise.
At least it is what I have tried to explain to the three hulks who left briskly from behind the glazed door.
THEY, they had no knowledge of aïkido. For cops, it is surprising. However a very effective manner to put an adversary out of action by using his only energy. Without brutality.
But perhaps, without wanting to be malicious gossip, it is for that these techniques are not known by the cops station. Undoubtedly they prefer something moreover… how to say, without always being malicious gossip… well! : brutal. With the major feeling to have broken. And the contentment which goes with.
Besides, if I had had three arms, THEY, they would have preferred. There is thus a third crestfallen, very sad not to take an active part, which remains behind. His participation is guttural and soon, windows open in façade, some guys hasten on the guy lying on the ground which is not me but the one in uniform, and everybody congregates, pointing at me, already surrounded, held firm.
They want to lead me in their shack. You think well that I do not resist. Since it is there that I go, precisely!
You have noticed that in these cases there, the rabble tends to beat it. As in the subway when there is a chick who is being beaten.
And all this mess, why?
I had parked my jag at the right place. The one of the excluded from the payments. Like them. What could be more natural, all in all!
And then here is that the guy in charge of reception in his sentry box which… But I will not remake you the story.
Perhaps you will say to me that I would have to show my card, to make him turn pale, to make him stand to attention, … But it is not my manner.
Perhaps yours. One never knows! You know, as soon as one has caught any authority! Like that, the history is rewritten with constancy. By the head warrant officers. And you believe that it was by the officers? The problem is more clever. It is for that it is always more difficult to guess who is the exploitor and the exploited one. Perhaps in turn. Surely.
But if you say: me, I cease when the others cease, It will last forever.
While I talk to you, I guaranteed you that my 60 kg when I am all wet, do not make the weight with these two hulks who raise me by the shoulders, the two wrists controlled according to the technique of the handbook, in chapter 4, under the heading 25, the one which is entitled: “the art and the manner to catch a guy and to block him”.
Nice, they do not even make me touch the ground while going up the five stairs of the steps. At least, like that, I do not dirty my shoes on the droppings of dog.
And then, when one arrives at the level in front of the glazed door that an old bastard holds open in front of me, but I assure you! not bent at all, rather laughing, I…
But I hardly dare so much it will appear not nice to you. As I am keen on keeping your esteem, it is better to think that it is the wind which is blustery which throws my feet behind. Like a died leaf!
And then, this agitated bloody wind makes oscillate my small feet. Whose fault is that if three chins are on the trajectory!
How I do not want in any case to provoke a scandal, you start to know me, I bring back my feet to the vertical, but this wind… a real louse! It throws again my pins forwards and p… I hardly dare so much I am confused! For the nuts of the two guys opposite.
As this situation is not bearable anymore, considering all the yells which rise in the street and which will end up disturbing the Public Order, which is not correct for cops, you will be agree with me! I try to put me back on my two legs, to withdraw me from the wind with the two feet well placed on the ground. I plunge the two arms between my knees, the two hulks who held me too strongly, plunge with me. I swear you! It is only by chance if their chin meets my knees which went up like pistons. Besides! Why they went up these! It will be necessary that I ask it to them, once I will have time to lose. In short! A waste, yells, the circle which is done behind me…
- Look out, he wants to flee!
My God! What will they think of me! And all that for two gusts of wind! It is not possible, my God! You see as one is very little thing.
- Catch him! He will beat it in the traffic!
They are idiots, or what? Since I go to the Police station.
I thus enter by the glazed door. Them, they remain idiots, as they stood in the way of behind.
There is the halfwit who still does not greet. There is education which is lost! Even at the old men. But it is necessary to understand, it must have a problem with the mouth, considering the dentures wide open that he presents.
Me, you know me!
Clean, and all… never wanting to disturb, preferring his master key to a key, killing only on the occasion and always in silence, never a word higher than the other.
To say to you that I close again the door behind me, like polite people. Lock the door. And then, this bloody wind! By security, to preserve the gear of this house which welcomes me so cordially, I add to it the two iron bars which lied around. With the padlock double torsion whose key goes in my pocket not to lie around everywhere.
Hey! You would not love a son-in-law like me?
Now, I can enter very quiet the hall. The wind will not demolish the door. The cops outside, either. Because if they can fire at random in the street and produce some burs without large damage, seen the condemnations on principle which they had… on the other hand, if they demolish the gear! … then there! Pardon me! they will have all the hierarchy breathing down on their neck …
And then, the key? If I said to you that I do not even know anymore in which pocket it is. May be, moreover, that I have unload it on the way in the large rounded vase of flowers in the middle of the entrance. Do not worry, it is the synthetic one. I prefer to say it to you straight, considering that perhaps you will believe that I demolished some “natural thing”. You know well that I have taken my yearly season ticket to the “Green Party”. At least, a “green” which has still a little the green color. Must say that with what the ecologists throw to each other in the face, it would be difficult for you to say which is green of green of gray!
And all that in the relaxed stride, with my velvet keks. The whole, towards the chick of sixty years which sat enthroned behind her desk, just behind the flowerpot.
- Hello, dear Madam, I say.
Must also have a problem with the dentures. With the old man at the door, that made two of them. I did not know that the police station recruited on the lists of dentists. Perhaps you? You kn… No! You would have said it to me...Quickly by mail. This thing which arrives more quickly than what is not delayed.
- I have an appointment with Mister the Director, I say, just to fold the upper jaw over the lower one which grates the chin to her.
- You had…?
The poor little dear! She cannot go further. Must say that she should raise the voice to cover the noises behind the glazed door. The punches too. But I have said it to you. The police station is serious for the gear. Very. No need to worry. Clean behind.
- Angel Bret I say to her while articulating, manner of forcing her comprehension.
There, I must be all wrong. Because suddenly, she panics, sits up straight with the armchair which goes flying, the coupling in-extremis at the flowerpot which she receives on the hobnailed shoes…! I do not say to you!
- Mister the Special Chief Superintendent Detached at the Élysée and at…
- Bret… quite simply, I tell her, just to take a shortcut.
She nods, makes the known gesture “it is by there”, swallows her saliva, at least tries and wants to precede me in the staircases.
Me, good sort, I do not want to misuse, considering also the tremor which agitates her, I would not like to be used as ambulance service.
Therefore, very nicely I ask her to indicate me the level, the door and as for the rest, she can continue very quietly to look for a strong enough elastic to retain her lower jaw which takes bloody wrinkles. By kindness, she can seek the pair. The old man at the entrance seems also to need some.
Me, you know, I did not think of having a day to make a so large impression on people of a certain age, and thus, by cultural definition, “important”.
You see well that one is often mistaken!
Three stages. He lives in the attic, the Director! Surely wants to benefit from the sight. There, all is hushed. An usher in the corridor. Padded leather and double doors with anteroom.
The stiff guy puts back the phone on the fork when I turn up. Seen that the cashier downstairs has found her breath back to fulfill her worthy functions of informant.
The stiff one put another layer of starch. So much that HIM ALSO, his jaw has trouble to be loosened up. As I am an always fast guy, I indicate the door with the finger to him. The more luxurious, naturally. He nods.
Therefore, I enter.
By good manners, I will not tell you what Mister the Director spends his hours of service. Nice, I agreed to wait for five minutes that he washes his hands.
- Mr Bret… I… the Élysée, THE…
I smile nicely to him. I did not want all the same to shake hands with him. well! … One never knows! Considering his solitary little games.
- Mister the Director! Please very insistently, we are between people of the trade, let us thus leave the titles, directives that you have received from the Emperor, the…
- the Emperor? He exclaims. And he also stays the open mouth.
For me, there must be a malfunction of the mechanical ventilation.
- yes, the guy that French people have put in power. You know, I hope?
He nods. That will begin to be boring in this shack, if each one strive to dislocate his dentures and to add swaying of gorilla.
Nice, I suggest him putting me in touch with both inspectors who dealt with the case, and with the superintendent who controlled them. Let us go straight to the point. I do not know if it is the weather of Paris, but I find that… not you? An atmospheric pollution which… perhaps… the understanding which slow down so quickly! Do not see another explanation.
The Mister, which, him also, wants to look like the prefabricated senior officials, with his suit with red-striped on gray background and all the rest of it which goes with, sits behind his desk which wants to be “empire style”, of course, and try to smile finely.
- I will request your benevolent discretion, Mister the Sup… Mr Bret. You easily understand the hardness of my responsibility… sometimes, it is necessary to have some relieves to continue to ensure the cool head and…
- I understand you perfectly, Mister the Director. Fire must left through somewhere. A Spanish maid said to me when I was kid, that the nuts on fire which do not function, and it is the head which blows up.
And then, he widens his thin smile while settling himself comfortably in his armchair; me, perfect as you know me, I continue to stroke his ego.
- And then I appreciate to his right value the bravery of an honest recluse. Not possible to bombard in all the directions, with a seropositive check-up. Through you the Aids will not pass. As a valorous senior official, you conform with rigor to the governing publicity. Even if it means to be satisfied with imagination. It is an extra high note for your file and, with your permission, I will allow myself to broach the subject with the Emperor at the time of our next meal.
You think of giving pleasure. And the guy is in a huff with you like one day without bread. A matter to despair! Come on! What have I said so that he stiffens like that?
What could be more natural all in all, that to be seropositive! I do not see where there is problem. Curious the ethic of these former students of the ‘ENA’ which makes the helping hand on a side and the pout with the other. Unless STILL, that all this tiff, it is fine policy.
- I appreciate to its right value the interest that you take in me, he clears his throat, but I would not like to withdraw to Mr. President of his heavy responsibilities with my… how to say? … you see what I want to say, dear Mr Bret.
I do not see very well but I pretended.
- I am astonished to hear for the first time your name, and this, in spite of the prestigious title which is yours… I however believed to be quite informed of the people so close to OUR President. You see as one can be mistaken!
- OUR EMPEROR knows how to keep under the hand valorous men, incognito, to sometimes solve some of the affairs of state, sometimes so awkward, I tell him.
The mouth that he would have made if… But let us pass. I roll for Stephan Colas. Not to forget. Or else I am able to take the piss out of this guy-former student of the ‘ENA’ until this evening, just to relieve my bladder.
I thus point out to him the subject of our so interesting meeting.
He shaves the chin with his palm, sighs… in short! All that a person in his position and function can invent to testify to the burdensome responsibility which is his.
- VERY astonishing, this death. If this 12 years old young boy, I believe? had not informed of his death, one could have beleived in an accident. A coal bag could have slipped and knock him out. Death would have been followed from suffocation.
The former student of the ENA looks at the ceiling. Me, the mug and my words do not seem to please him a lot.
- By considering very normal this manner that the children of nowadays have to walk in the night in the cellars for the coal of the Parisian buildings. Moreover, in pyjamas and bare feet, just to make her mum in the morning, I tell him, just to see the mug outlining these smiles subtle and entirely filled with insinuations when one talks to a double idiot but that one has the delicacy not to say it to him. In a way of not upsetting him. On the telly, in the discussion programmes, it is at the one which will have developed the best HIS smile.
- I recognize, dear Mister the superi… Mister Bret that certain anomalies require some thoughts… Like this building door locked. The guard has not opened to somebody this fateful night, he added, just to show me that he was familiar with his file as a conscientious guy who must EVEN have a wank at fixed hour to keep the quite cold head of the guys VERY concerned of THEIR responsibility.
- And the suicide was dismissed by the co… the investigators? I say.
- Completely! A 12 years old kid does not commit suicide!
- And he has never said anything of his persecutors? Even at the police station of the district. However, he knew the agent who has received him.
- Not a word. He just affirms that one wanted to kill him. He required the protection of the Police. He has always refused to provide the name or the names of his possible attackers… You see that under these conditions, it was difficult to bear fruit to these allegations. Thus the superintendent, with very right reason, has not followed this request and…
- And the kid died.
- Pardon! … I do not see how we could have done differently! The staff is not numerous enough for…
- And same thing with the instit, the priest and the rest.
- Same « thing », he tells me straight to my face between his pinches lips. Must not be too much fond of my vocabulary. Fortunately he does not know my ortografe! But, even without that, I can feel that I go down before my very eyes in his estimation. Come on! I grasp it well. He is twiging that we are not from the same business. Surely not the same methods. And this thing starts to worry him. I see it in his eyes: “still one shit-stirrer everywhere where they pass! ” I hear him to think.
- And have the investigators followed all the possible tracks, even the most incongruous? I ask him, just to recall him to more suitability for my grand-sounding title.
- Even these ones! … And nothing. It is impossible to understand. It looks like if he has committed suicide all alone, this kid!
- Just to make shit the rabble.
- Ah! Do not speak to me about it. Without IT, these journalists! These…! We would not be there. Classified case! … I wish you a lot of pleasure, Mister the Special Superintendent detached at the Élysée and at…
- Exact, I say to him.
Just to shorten and to let him speechless.
He has understood my inane remarks, the guy! Now, he sends the lift back to me. Subtle manner of those which want to go far. There is only to smash my face in, and there will be at least a guy in the room to have a good laugh.
The buttocks start to become numb in these too soft armchairs.The departure turns up. Just still to make me communicate the entirety of the file. And to interview the hardworking cops who have worked on the Steph subject. Here is one who starts to question me! Not banal step. I had said it to you from the outset. You see well that I hide you nothing! ”
End of the extract of the Book of the Family
The Master let the sounds vibrate the air and the wind to send them to his son of “now”.
His body told him the success of the transport of the Power of the Man who wants to remain on Earth. He knew his son wrapped of It. Yesterday evening he had put two drops of a light sleep-inducing in the tea of the young White.
“Thus your body a little numb will not realize… A few seconds is enough so that the Force of the Earth deadens the conscience of the Standing Man … It is so quickly done, smiles the old man! … And it is there the danger of the man who cannot be quick enough in his action. He remains then in the house of the Men captive of the Earth.
The young White quivered with all his hairs… He understood the attack. He must act in the instant to break the magic which turned around his body… He felt the weakness to gain him… As a major tiredness of the body which invites to go to bed and “to recover” thus…
But he knew that it was the invitation of the Earth to die for It…
He must act quickly! … His body began the giddiness which makes going down ones knees and then putting the back on the ground…
That required of him an extraordinary effort of his will because the body wanted to lie down… He cleared the low wall giving on the central courtyard at one jump and ran towards the space of training of the fight. The howl did not leave his mouth. It remained in his belly and propelled him. He had only attention for this Breath which howled its despair in his entrails… He took support on him to be propelled like the wind pushed by the tornado.
The monks followed him with their interrogative look:
“What still arrived at this young fighting cock! »