The Mime

Chapter III

- You should never have taken care of it alone, Emile. You know it well. I hope this will serve as a lesson to you, my boy.

I wonder if he had made all this trip just to certify my defeat. But the way he said my boy fondly reminded me of Grandpa as if it were the same person. I stared at the ground in shame. He looked like a kid. I felt so pathetic...

- Unfortunately, Paris will soon lose its charm, he continued, the weather will be rainy and finding food will no longer be an easy task. But on my side, since the death of Charles, I took care to organize and put aside your grandfather's will, because if I had spoken to you about it before, surely you were going to accidentally involve this poor bequest. in the wrong scam hands.

He put a few hundred francs on the table again to my total shock. Strangely, my hunger came back immediately and I was waiting for the moment to go get something to eat. So grandfather had left me all this?

I couldn't hold back my joy, it was surely a sacred moment in my life. Grandpa was right, he's a real protagonist! But not being able to thank him broke my heart, I contented myself with a simple smile, before miming a rose as a sign of thanks. He was a little confused, but pretended to pick it up and put it in his pocket. And then he continued:

- Don't get me wrong so quickly, my boy. I will live in the house across the street from now on. No more risky choices will be made without summoning me. Surely you must be hungry, right?

I nodded to him shyly before noticing that he was taking two large white loaves of bread topped with asparagus from his satchel. I literally drooled admiring such a meal that I held in my hands. I almost crushed the poor bread so starvation had taken control over me. François Philip was hardly surprised when he saw me eating it in large mouthfuls, although I was terribly sorry.

- My boy, there is something that your parents never told you, nor informed you. Your mother used to have a serious blood leukemia, and before you were even there, several doctors had approved with certainty that you would never see the world, that you were already dead in your mother's womb. But you are there! It's just that everyone had buried all hope in a very deep grave. And what they didn't know is that, as they say, living without hope is like navigating without a compass.

I was about to cry with emotion; this information had been so important that even my own parents did not want to inform me of it, not to scare me, but to inform me of it to give me hope and faith in life. Is it only at the age of twenty-four that it reaches my ears? This could not be more certain, I could never thank François Philip so much.

- Emile, you hardly realize that you are an heir, he continued, a legatee who does not take the bequest correctly. Accept change. Accept the fact that you will have dinner every night, that you can sleep soundly now. Accept the fact that being mute will no longer be bad luck.

I stared at him for a moment as he said this. It was strangely just then that I noticed the elegance of her clothes; a marvelous midnight blue coat of the same shade as his eyes, his garnet velvet waistcoat, his impeccably waxed moccasins and his beautifully styled and lacquered pearl gray hair made him look twice as young for his age, approximately twenty years old less. I felt so pitiful and insignificant compared to him. It is simply compared the incomparable. Grandpa was lucky to have him as an ally, and I was lucky to have him as a new tutor. If by his side being mute will no longer be bad luck, I am sure that throughout the world millions of mute souls would fight to the death willingly to acquire the help of Mr François Philip. But I couldn't see clearly in what he was saying; he says that being dumb will no longer be bad luck, perhaps by his side, I will leave the famine and the cold, but that does not change anything on the side of mistrust and foreign certainties. And that, alas, he will never be able to do something about it, and if he could do nothing about it, how could I go about it?

I gave him a hopeful look again, showing him that I was counting on him and that I was putting all my chances at stake. He then left the house only after 1h30min in the morning.

And he was right. Since that day, every day I enjoyed a real dinner, and perfectly drinkable water and real candlesticks at night. I regained my taste for life, for the desire to exist, to be there and by that. Alas, I didn't haggle, didn't work, didn't argue, it was a despicable weak point. I was still vulnerable and dependent. However, grandfather was right. Vulnerable and dependent, that's what I say. Neither grandfather nor François had specified this or even shown it indirectly. Yes, he was right, because if I'm deprived of any use of speech, that's what makes me a person. I couldn't get rid of this attribute, just as no one can get rid of their handicap or their dark side; for that is what constitutes the person. And this hides a promising path, despite all the circumstances. And without Mr François Philip, I would never have been able to notice it on my own. You have to know how to open your mind and your heart, because people, in our sad times, close in on themselves, don't listen to each other, don't look at each other, don't understand each other, it's them who think they're mute is bad luck. But we can't do anything about it... There are too many of them! They are too stubborn! It would take a person of such stature and greatness to convince them perhaps in vain... We must be sure, if no one puts an end to it, the world will never be able to change at this rate.