26. The child.

 

 

Beauty touched Heidi. Beauty is Dignity.

 

The young woman radiated the look of Tong, the attention of the long monk for her. Nothing was done according to the ordinary rules of the men. He did not touch her. He caressed her with his look interested in her. She perceived this attention when she moved and that gave force to her movement which evolved to a perfect fluidity. That gave her happiness and joy. This perfection moved her body and her body was happy to move thus. That was like one to give-to receive without claim. A natural gesture which in its intention produced a colossal effect on the body and the spirit which noticed it and was happy.

 

When Tong placed the hand on her arm, or her hand, or her shoulder to accompany a movement, to help her in her gesture, her body vibrated in its depth. That was not seen from outside, but fibers which she did not know in her vibrated !… That was clear.

 

Also she was let carry by this look and that was happy for her. For the first time of her existence she had anything in particular to do, nothing in particular to give, nothing special to prove. She was there, alive, in a happy body because she was looked as body… a body at her… a body for her… a body which was the tool of the Perfection in action on Earth among the Men.

 

She discovered what the young White said “a body for the Creation”. It is that which she wanted. She did not know as that could be so simple !

 

- This is not so simple says Tong to her, when she confided in him, sitting on the bench of the garden in front of the assembly line which reddened under the fires of the sun which wanted to leave.

- For me, it is simple… This simplicity, this absence of effort, I feel it like a reality in each one of my cells of the body… As a knowledge which was always there but which needed quite simply to be released.

- Not so simple, repeated Tong, thoughtful… Because it is necessary that the dreams cease to let this Force act by itself. You do not realize of what you are¨ : a woman without dreams !… It is that your beauty and your force…

 

She looked at him without understanding, but she felt these words true… words like those of Angel… words which come from far… but which do not have an origin known by the brain and the memory of the Man.

 

- And the action of The One who knows that and who can release this Force was also necessary… It was in prison in the body…

 

She listened. He continued slowly, touching the words deep inside him. She saw him attentive to each one of the vibrations of the sounds which went out of him. He observed them when they went through his lips, ready to intervene if the accuracy was not there.

 

- You do not know like me the research for this liberation near all those that one calls “Masters”… You do not know what that wants to say to always research and to go accross huge territories to find The One who can touch this Force and to release it.

- You want to say Ange, she whispered in the silence of the evening which brought its darkness.

- Yes,… Ange… this young White has made more for me in two months than years of work in monasteries… he whispered. But you know I do not criticize the “Masters” whom I met, listened and even followed. But they did not know by their body the presence of this Force. They knew it by intuition or teaching and they could speak about it… but their body did not touch it.

- Do you want to say that without him, without Ange, we could not enjoy and live this happiness to exist with and in this body.

- I am really afraid of it, acknowledged the long monk… I am really afraid of it !… and I am afraid that he leaves us !… I have this fear in my belly every night !

 

Heidi did not blow a word of what the Master had asked her. She understood better now when she perceived the fear of Tong. She had already felt it since the old man had spoken to her, but she had put it back to the bottom of her spirit because she believed that this fear was still coming from her past where violence and death were everywhere.

 

But now she understood better and the fear came back to contract her belly. She does not say anything to Tong. The Master had said : “that is between you and me… and to benefit from my force that I put in you, you must keep it in the secrecy of your heart. Thus it will act in the moment when the death could approach my “son” and you will act in reflex without passing through the filter of your will and your brain.”

 

Also even to Tong she did not say anything… and she will not say anything. She will not allow the carelessness words to decrease and impoverish this Force of the Master in her. She loves the young White so much that never she will make a breathing which could be contrary to him. She would prefer being killed right away than to be an insufficient friend for him.

 

But she was grateful to Tong for his words which gave her the measure of what she had felt. Now she knew she was not mad and she will put all in work “to shield” the one who she feels in her like her “true man”.

 

- Thank you, she said… You clarify once again with your force of attention.

 

The look that she carried on him heated his heart and he forgot his anguish under this caress of woman who likes to be beside the man who takes care of her.

 

The monks discovered each day a young woman radiant with force and with gaiety. They learned what could be a woman. Their bodies gave impulses, sometimes vulgar ! But they felt a more alive body, more alert.

 

They had heard “old men” saying that before there had been nuns in the monastery. But for more than twenty years, the Master had decided differently.

 

“The very old ones”, sometimes, muttered words without continuation between their broken teeth. It was necessary to stretch the ear to hear : “after the death of his son, he has closed the ears and the eyes on the world of the woman”… and if the sounds continued, they heard : “Hiro, him, has closed everything on the world, the eyes and the ears… It was a great misfortune this departure of the body of the future Master ».

 

But the old men did not give any explanation. They did not say anything of what seemed a great secrecy of this place.

 

But sometimes, there was an old man who said to another, when they heated their bones with the sun of the mountain, leaning against to the stone wall which had kept the heat of the day :

 

- I was scribe at this time… and I cry in my heart of all the nasty ironic things that I have said on him… He was the greatest of us and I understood it only when he left us by the void that was then in me… I understand in my flesh the pain of Hiro which did not want to give anything anymore from him… Except to kill, to kill and still to kill…”

 

The Master caressed the leather cover of the second book reporting the movements of his “son” with this child dead murdered… What a suffering he still felt passing between his fingers whereas that was old of more than twenty five years !

 

- What pain was yours when you have understood ! …

 

There remained one motionless moment, him also heating his old bones with the rays of the sun which penetrated by the bay opening on the precipice.

 

- But I feel that you have “known” immediately !… What a splendid tracker you were !… To hide “everything” to everybody and that nobody has never known which game you hunted… even me, your father !… But you, you knew from the beginning and I loved you… and I love you for this Force which is in you to never put your pain on the knees of the others… You were a very Great, my “son”.

 

 

Extract of the Book of the Shin Family

 

2. Stephan

 

 

HI ! guys… it is me again.

 

I am escaped, once more, of the monastery. The north of Asia, it is beautiful, but it is cold. With torrents which wash along ice floes, even in winter… sorry : even in summer. It is not every day funny. Welcome chilblains.

 

Moreover it is the very exact reason which has led to discover this famous position of Zazen : to warm ones toes in the line of the buttocks.

 

I already hear you saying that I have not got better since the last time. Eight months already that I have finished this Dupond case in “the swirl”. Hey ?… ultimately… it was well, eh !

 

I bring up this story because it has a direct relation with my presence in Paname, at the time when I chat with you. Because for what it is to escape from the monastery, it is a joke, of course.

 

Besides you had rectified yourself, intelligent and sensitive as I know you !

 

At least it was in this state that I left you. Hey !… I hope that you have not catched at the universal crap again ? That would beats everything ! And me, for the angling I am not good at it.

 

OK. You want me to loose the straps and to tell you why I am driving the jaguar towards the boulevard of Clichy with the street Emile Level as destination.

 

You can see that I hide you nothing. You may have noticed the very significant amont of information I just provided you with so few words !

 

Without any claim from me, I really believe, that, in all honesty, THEY should give me the Goncourt price. At least ! If THEY want to add some, with a small packet of brass with, I think I would not say NO. But in all simplicity, hey !

 

OK. I come.

 

Understand my innate gentleness. I have just left you time to settle in your best armchair, to let your kid n°1 put the slippers, to let your kid n°2 serve you a whiskey in a large glass of water, to let your progeny n°3 light the cigarette, to kiss the hen you use as woman… on the lips with the liar in eruption,

 

It is OK ? You are well settled ?

 

OK then, off we go. Without delaying. It is promised. But my God, do not shout so strongly ! Since I say to you that we go direct, come on !

 

Here !

 

I roll for Stephan Cola.

 

The beginning of this case is not banal. The Stephan Cola, he lives street Emile Level, Paris 17°, just behind the street Paul Baudin, and right angle of the boulevard of CLICHY… hey ? that suits you like description.

OK ! DIRECT.

 

Well, thus the Steph writes to the Father Christmas. It is not banal, eh ! To tell him that he does not know what to do anymore because one wants to kill him, and he does not want to die. To show that he is serious on all the points and that the psychological hospital, it is not yet for him, he specifies that he has not believed anymore in the Father Christmas since the age of his six years. This fateful night, he wanted to piss, considering all the syrups of grenadine that he had pinched from his folks going out to do the shopping in the afternoon… And he surprised them to fill the shoes. Moreover, they had a row !

 

Then, why he writes to the father what’s-his-name, I hear you from here ?

 

Not shy, the guy explains that he is afraid, does not know towards WHO to go, that he has spoken to the cops of his district who have laughed, went even to confess to the priest of the parish who had baptized him and carried in the arms of the Lord until his Solemn Communion… and has finished with the instit who has passed a short note to the parents who received Stephan in the evening with the strap.

 

Necessary to say that he is 12 years old.

 

Thus, he does not know anything anymore and he writes to the father tutu gifts.

 

Funny, no ! One not banal, I told you.

 

But it is not finished !

 

Listen to the continuation. It will reconcile you once again with the ‘Petit Travail Tranquille’ ( Small quiet work) that I have slightly scratched in “the swirl”, so much that the Minister of the PTT (French postal and telecommunications) threatens to bring an action against me. Hey ! You do not believe that he has more urgent things to do, the guy. For example… I do not know, me… hold on : that the letters arrive in time.

 

But one continues in the not banal.

 

The PTT, as of course, and you will recognize that it is not the first time ! do not know to whom deliver the note. It thus goes from services in services, from assistant managers to chiefs, to the head… who do not know either what to do !… so much that the subject is solved by the cleaning lady who asks whether it is for today or for tomorrow, considering that she refuses in her conscientiousness, to let a paper in the basket.

 

With authority, it is thus her who opens the envelope shamelessly for the trembling assistance. Some people do not have REALLY any education. No concern for the overworked nerves of the ‘Petit Tra…’ sorry ! … of the PTT.

 

- My GOD !… must to do something !… The poor kid !

 

In front of this so quiet authority, the head decides to send the stuff to the minister, who passes it along to his counterpart of the Police force, who makes follow through normal official channels, i.e. downward, to arrive at the Judicial police, which passes it along to the superintendent of the district, who, him, must await Monday morning the arrival of the agent who knows this street… Phew !

 

Not banal to disturb all these beautiful people, hey ! Stephan Cola, he must laugh dry. You would not have, you, the hilarious face after such a joke ?

 

And it is well what the agent who knew the kid must have thought. Thus, the agent guiding the superintendent, takes again the way of the street Emile Level… to fall on an action stations. Because one sought everywhere the nasty kid telling nasty stories and going to disturb A Minister, even two.

 

The parents are in all their states; the neighbors ditto, the girl Cola benefits from it not to go to school, the cops make circulation and the research in the building.

 

Each one supports the moral, the hand and the broomstick to give a thrashing to this nasty kid who plays so nasty tricks and which…

 

In short, everyone have a try. Careful Stephan ! Hoot ! Stephan. You will cop it, it is programmed, already in listing, the saliva on the lips.

 

And then, as one cannot hide eternally, especially in a building of the 17°, he has to say “cuckoo ! ”, the Steph.

 

It is the old man of the fourth floor who discovered him. Hidden in the room for the coal, he was. Funny ! There are places of which one would not think. There is not to shit, the kids, that has imagination.

 

Under the bag, he was the Steph !

Ah ! there are kids ! Oh shit, he did not think of the washing of his mother. She, she made the relation straight.

 

- Nasty kid !… he had his bath yesterday evening.

 

And the funniest in all this agitation, it is that the Steph, he remains very calm, dirtyied with the powder of coal, the nails of hands broken, the barefeet…“to what they can think these young people of now !”

 

It is the old woman of the 5° which has just given her opinion…

 

As the Steph he refused to stand up, the trial by the mob, very legitimated, like one suspects it, walloped him, gave him a kick in the sides, a small something in the nuts to see if that were going to catch a sudden crisis of mumps… But let’s go !

 

All that, it is funny !

 

But the Steph, he continued in the not banal: he continued not to move, the nasty kid !

 

And then, it is the police chief, young in the district, and still without preconceived ideas, who started to think that the not banal was perhaps not normal.

 

Then, ONE has leant a little better on the kid, ONE has made more light, ONE has exclaimed, ONE has terrified.

And then, ONE has well been obliged to recognize that the STEPHAN, he was dead.

You speak about a good joke !

 

Not banal, I had said it to you.

 

To kill oneself to make shit the others.

 

Hold ! there are kicks in the backside which are lost.

 

But the hassle, it is the word of the kid to the father what’s-his-name… And all those who are in the know… Without counting that he prevented everyone, the Steph.

 

Then, the superintendent, not too idiot because still young, thinks : and if it were a murder ?

 

You think of the not fresh foodstuffs that he had just thrown the young fellow. I am sure that he got rapped over the knuckles, in high places.

 

Because the news passed in the street pronto. And each one started with ones premises.

 

And then, the journalists have turned up. And have made the brothel of course.

 

And then the investigation did not give anything.

 

But the journalists have brought back the public, which it, has written to the EMPEROR of the FRANCS.

 

And HIM, the Augustus, the only one who can still laugh in this sad France, he asked for the assistance of the Shin family.

 

I know well that we are known in the whole world like perfect killers, but all the same ! To disturb US for this thing !

 

But apparently, it is ”Small Father” who said it to me with his yellow smile looking as if he has always got a grin on his face, that it is even ME that he has asked, the EMPEROR. HE would have very strongly appreciated my subtle and completely delicate manner in the Dupond case.

 

ME, subtle ? I already hear you laughing.

 

It is as mine distant cousin who said that the one who takes him for an idiot, it is that he has known him for a long time.

 

One has already walked a bit together. I really believe that I…

 

In short ! I will not reveal you my personality so quickly : will be necessary to better know each other. You know, without wanting to insist in an inappropriate way… hey !… in all peace of mind, that for these discoveries I would finally have a preference for the sex known as “weak”…, to be polished ! because for the weakness, my eye !

 

But “Small Father” took the message seriously whereas me, you know me, I killed myself laughing on the veranda, to sweeten his cookies.

 

He had the look in the slit of the eyelids, just two wires of razor, that I know perfect : it is the one I do when I made a big stupidity. At this time, it is to better put the 73° télévision channel, you know, the one which passes continuously the serial : “I passed but you did not see me ! ”

 

- There is a killer of child in your Country… Go there !

 

Nothing to add when the Master of this bloody Shin Family gives an order. Except to ask quickly for the keys to Saint Pierre so that he makes you a good place near the stove since it appears that over there, it’s damned cold !

Thus act, I go.

 

All that to say to you without detour, with my personal manner, why I leave once again the plane Singapore AirLine to find me in the same private room that the last time. The only change, the guy who receives me.

 

Because the other, if you remember, a Savigny I think, he has had an indigestion with the stupidities that I have make him swallow so much that the Emperor of the Francs has sacked him. Of “senior official” of the Élysée, he is transferred in the Cantal to count garden peas. This is what one calls cultural advancement in a Chinese way.

 

It is besides may be this thing still too recent for them which makes my interlocutor so much tense that he is idiot ! Imagine ! Here is a guy dressed with a three parts suit of the best cut, in the dark gray with a red wire inside, of course, with “church’s” at the feet, you know ? these fantastic warning signal in the smog, a sublimate Englisch creation. And well, the guy, he is scared to walk gingerly !

 

I must make him a strong impression !

 

 

“We ask you to excuse us, dear reader, to find us sometimes being overtaken by events. The Roshi gave us the ORDER to follow his son, us, the scribes of the Family, but HE goes sometimes so quickly ! The Roshi, our Master, however said us well: Be Careful !… He will carry the Mask until the end of the precipice because he is an extraordinary tracker in the silence of the soul, him, his “son”, the one who one says our future Master.

 

It is difficult sometimes to follow him, hustled by his outburts. When we open our heart to the Master about it, he smiled, then he said, the eyes half open on the Infinity, that this ground swell that his son raised, was only one mask, but that this man touched so closely the Eternal that Great was to be the one who wanted to understand.

 

Then he said to us to relate his actions and gestures in the chronicles of the Family and not to try too much to understand.

 

Thus, dear reader, we must warn you, that the Honorable Big Name who supervises the destiny of this Noble people of France, that our future Master calls by derision “the Emperor”, with the reason that the French would have rejected a President who liked to think he was a King, without realizing that they voted for a more-than-King, and that this more-than-King, they have re-elected him, because ultimately, they are weary… anyway !!!!!

…thus to warn You that this Honorable has made the choice of our future Master in this mission for many very exact reasons that it is advisable to relate to you in all peace of spirit:

 

- Mr. President… Allow us to have in front of you a different opinion: this devil of man has put us a brothel not believable in the Dupond case.

- Precisely !

- But… we have lost EVERYTHING… EVERYTHING ! Mr. President.

- Precisely !

- The Chinese, the Americans were breathing down our necks… Without counting a bitter struggle between our own Police and Army services which still lasts !

- Precisely !

- Allow us not to understand, Mr. President.

- I allow… If you are my Advisers and me, the President, the reasons are obvious…

- Obviously…

- Precisely !… This man, this Angel Bret, it is very normal that he gives us a taste of his own medecine… He “has put us the brothel” you say ! And well, now let us use the “brothel” for our advantage.

- We fear not to understand, Mr. President.

- Normal, you are only Advisers…

- Obviously…

- Precisely !… WE do not have anything to lose nor to hide in this case ! Thus, let him do “the light”, since it is his speciality… You see, my very Dears, the public is a flick applauder that it is advisable to caress according to a quasi military regularity… He is burning with enthusiasm for this Stephan Cola, helped in that by the press being short of copies, which jumps on the occasion to be made the “witness” of the popular thought… And well, let him do !

- Obviously…

- Precisely !… You will see that this Bret will trigger a true brothel in less time that one needs to say it.

- Obviously…

- No, precisely !… OUR Police forces, so conservative, will have one’s work cut out to get out of troubles and of the mockery of the people with this case… During this time, they will forget the after-effects of this unhappy Dupond case, and this new adversity will may be succeed in bringing them closer to a common duty which is, to my humble opinion of President of France, to work for the community property instead of fighting.

- Obviously…

- Precisely !…

- But, Mr. President… How a simple police case can lead to the action of the various so specialized Services intervened in the Dupond case ?...

- My Dears… You are only Advisers… Think to it !

- But this man is very dangerous !

- Precisely !

- He is called “The Silent Tracker” ! … We know what he is capable of !

- Precisely !

- We do not understand very well your hopes, Mr. President.

- That does not do anything, Mr the Advisers.

 

Dignified reader, here is the exact truth having led this shit-stirrer who is our future Master according to our current Great Master… But deep in our heart we tell you our sincere and sublime hope: we would like well that he takes a tumble and that in his country there is a courageous man to bump him off… Because believe us, it is not always easy here every days with him who scanned us until the bottom of the entrails with his look of eagle, so much that we have all of us the permanent runs !

 

Here is the real truth that we deliver to you, Dignified reader… because we are the witnesses of his action. We keep the Books of the Family, Her Memory… but that does not want to say that we adhere to that we are obliged to write… We quite simply report “the facts” even if they worry us frankly…

 

Here is thus the real truth… and now we let you with Him…and his ”stupidities” according to his own term that we did not find in the dictionary. It is our Dignified Master, who has practiced a little this language in his long trips of his youth, which gave us the general meaning of it… He said to us that it is “the disordered movement of the matter that we evacuate from us each morning after the breakfast”… Is that good ? Friend reader we are opened to a permanent training of this language so far from we and let us thank you for all complementary indications that you would like to deliver to us”.

 

 

In my opinion the guy opposite me, he does not seem to be in agreement with his emperor. He, if I am not too slow after three days of travel, he would find that this case comes under the simple Police force and that he does not see very well why one calls in a foreign labor, even very specialized.

 

I hold out the hand. There is one deposited bream blue-white-red with in big letters POLICE FORCE and a title which would make tighten the buttocks at the prefect from around here. Understand that a grain of rice would not pass there. Thank you his hemorrhoids !

 

Then a letter of introduction of the Emperor : the policemen have as orders to look up if I pass beside them with a guy bleeding on my shoulder. They just have to blow one’s whistle again a motorist who passes to the green light and who will take a fine to stop impromptu on the lane. It is necessary to pass ones rancour on somebody ! Without what the world would not be bearable anymore.

 

The very smart Mister left without saying goodbye to me. He has checked the desert of the corridor before getting going. Still not the desire for being seen in company of a graduate in murder, being duly licensed, who has passed his examination with the first class honours.

 

This time, he did not ask me for a “very detrimental” intervention of me, “Small Father” either. I am not a killer for nothing. I understand quickly.

 

Moreover, without joke, I believe well that it is for that the Roshi likes me and calls me “his son”. I am the first to recognize very modestly, that I am intelligent. When one has explained to me for a long time, I…

 

...But we are not there to speak about my performances, aren't we ?

 

Let us rather go off to the daily grind.

 

The old colonel of cavalry that I had met in the restaurant of the punch-up with the cops, in the Dupond case, is there, at the exit of the glazed doors of the airport.

 

- It is a pleasure to see you again, Mister… The jaguar is against this pavement, a little further, fifty meters.

 

Bret took the keys and felt that there was something which had changed. He examined the set of keys in his palm and some heat came in his heart while following the drawing of the pendant. It was the one of lovers in an embrace, naked both of them, members mixed.

 

The old soldier smiled too.

 

- It is me which has brought the car up to here… It is her’s, now, since the death of her father…

Curious pendant, is not it ?… Hindu, I think… She said that you like this car and she lets it at your entire disposal…

 

Bret guessed that the man had not said everything; that he did not understand the continuation, from where his reticence…

 

- Yes ?

- Well, she said to me to repeat you textually : “to use only the free heart”. Here, I repeat you !

- Well…

- It was an honor for me to see you again, Mister.

 

 

 

 

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