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Joy
up all the way, just below his
Adam’s apple. He tells me
to follow him to his office.
What luck! We have never
been able to see him. When
he goes into mom’s room, he
seems so busy that we don’t
dare to pain him by asking
questions. He motions to a
chair where I sit down and
I tell myself that he has an
awful look. He always has an
awful look but this one, it’s
worse. This being is lifeless,
slavish, very large, always
slightly hunched over like he
is too tall, with a shifty gaze.
- Mr. Solaro, I should tell you
that the news is not good.
I look at him and, as is usual
every time I look at him, I am
surprised to see nothing in
his eyes.
He starts again:
- Not good at all.
- It has been a while since we
have heard good news, you
know that.
My remark seemed to
surprise him. He looks at me
bizarrely, behind his glasses. I
don’t knowwhy, but I imagine
that I take off his glasses
and he suddenly becomes
fragile, that his eyes finally
show something besides
seriousness and business.
Suddenly, I am no longer
listening to what he says. I
think he noticed because his
tone becomes even more
severe:
- What I believe I must say to
you is that henceforth, it is a
matter of days, not weeks.
- And today?
He seems dumbstruck so I try
again:
- Today, how is she doing?