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Charles Pépin
that all of this reflects her. I
catch sight of Louise in the
crowd and I tell myself that
she’s beautiful. When my
turn comes, I find that they
are looking at me strangely
but it’s probably because of
my black and blue eye and
the stitches on the arch of my
eyebrow. I sense a murmur
running through the crowd,
as if I had said something bad
but I don’t see what it could
be, yet no one speaks, I am
alone speaking to her in the
burning silence and I tell her
that I love her.
The workers at the service
announce that the ceremony
is over and invite us to leave
and to follow them to the
tomb. Four of them pick up
the coffin and suddenly I see
the fear in my father’s eyes.
We all meet at Mathieu’s
house, there are wines from
the Loire and dishes, cheese
platters, and large salads,
everyone is drinking a little
too much. We discuss and
talk loudly, his living room
is so full it may split open.
His two sons, bottle at hand,
roam the room ready to serve
us. The oldest son just came
around for the third time
and, as if he had a reputation
for being lazy, each family
member compliments him.
“Thank you, thank you, he
responds with his hair in
front of his eyes, I didn’t do it
on purpose!” We hear other
jokes; cousins find each
other again and promise to
see each other again before
the next funeral despite the
distance between them. By
the way, who is on that list?
Invitations fly out, promises
are tossed around, certain
laughs sound a bit fake but
not more than usual. My
uncle tells me that it fits me
well, this banged up, boxer’s
head. Small kids run between
our legs, they are playing tag