The old man’s smile looked strained. There was no blood on his face, and none on his shirt or pants. He walked in his usual way. It seemed no harm had come to him. But his eyes were vacant in that now familiar way, and as Lea looked past him at the other children sitting on the ground, she felt the bottom of her belly turn to vinegar. Christophe shook Florian’s hand nervously and held Lea’s elbow as he kissed her on the cheek.
Good morning father, he said to Florian.
Christophe linked arms with the children and they began to cross the courtyard. When they had reached the others, Christophe looked at Florian and pointed to a spot on the ground. The boy sat immediately. Christophe unhooked his arm from Lea’s, pulled Florian to his feet, and spun the boy so that he faced the others. Florian did not resist. Then Christophe placed Lea so that she stood perpendicular to the boy, facing the old man. The other children stole sideways glances. They were confused. This was a game none of them had played before, and they did not want to play it wrong.
Isabela kept pulling her hair to her nose and smelling it. Her dress was grass-stained and torn and its hem was muddy. She had walked through the trees to get to the pavilion. Now she looked at Christophe with feigned bewilderment. She had not brought her vows, nor greeted any of the guests, nor even spoken to her uncle. Christophe thought it best to start the ceremony immediately.
The old man closed his eyes and whispered.
We are gathered here today in the face of this company, to join together Christophe and Isabela in matrimony. They will no longer be two, but one flesh. The lord is compassionate to all his creatures. What god has united, man must not separate.
Christophe stood with his mouth agape and trembling as he struggled to remember his next words. His brow knitted with effort and his hands closed into fists. The children stared. Lea put her thumb into her mouth and began sucking it. Florian did not move. Suddenly Christophe’s face beamed with uncontained joy and he loosened his fists and opened his eyes, gazing at the open sky, the sun causing him to squint, and the old man remained that way for a few moments before turning his face to the gathered children. It took on a shadowy aspect as he inspected each of their faces.
The priest was faltering. Nobody could be counted on. Only oneself. Christophe turned to Isabela and began his vows.
I, Christophe Guillot, take you, Isabela Jakab, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.
Christophe’s face was very close to Lea’s. She could see herself reflected in his pupils, a small figure in the milky veil of age. The courtyard receded and the old man’s face came into sharp focus. New details appeared there. Lea saw brown liver spots folded into the creases of his greyish skin. Only his cheeks were smooth and turning a pale pink from excitement. Where his wild grey hair did not grow, down the center of his pate, plaques of dead skin peeled away. Lea looked down at the old man’s hands. He held them towards her at hip level, wrists limp and fingers bent at the knuckles. They were covered in the same liver stains as his face. She had never noticed these brown marks before. They were like forest moss appearing overnight on the fresh deadfall. Veins were visible beneath the skin of Christophe’s forearms, knotting in places, with a burl where they crossed the wrist, tributaries of thicker vessels that ran alongside and crossed over the four metacarpals, four girders laid from wrist to knuckle.
Lea placed her hands atop Christophe’s. She felt there the worn landscape of his life and toil. The veins were soft and they displaced beneath her fingers. There was no excess flesh in the old man’s sinewy hands. Lea’s were plump and delicate in comparison. Her fingernails were long and their tips were filthy, but her flesh shone a healthy pink. A warm drop of rain fell onto Lea’s left hand. When she looked up, she saw that it was not rain. The old man was crying. Drops were gathering at his chin and falling onto their hands.
When it came time for Isabela to say her vows Christophe began weeping. It was the first time she had seen him cry. He did so because he knew he had betrayed her trust by reading her notebook. After wrapping her body in a tarp he left it in the living room and began gathering supplies for his journey. Leave the city. This thought repeated in his mind so that it became the backdrop for his actions. Clothes: waterproof k-way, wool hat, wool socks, trench coat, boots, all underwear, all socks, undershirts, no suits no shirts no need, two sweaters, one to wear while he washed the other, three pairs of pants, nothing sheer, ski coat, never worn to ski, flashlight, spare 4.5 volt battery, camping backpack, dust falling from the closet into his open mouth, stinging his eyes, shaking the bag off, packing the clothes inside, discman, extra double-A batteries, two compact discs, better than leaving it for them, why did they leave any of this, maybe they took the food, they do not care about your clothes or flashlight or discman, all your equipment is ancient, aluminum mess kit, six bottles of water from the pantry, locked pantry, they were in a hurry, swiss army knife, one fork, one spoon, two dishrags, one sponge, her caved-in skull, leave the dish soap, only need water, spaghetti, rice, chickpeas, lentils, crackers, in the canvas bags with anything you can drop at the first sign of danger if on foot, leave the salt and pepper, leisure, excess, waste, frivolity, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, her razor sitting on the side of the bathtub, notebook splayed open on the floor, he had seen this notebook before, sitting on the side of the bathtub and leaning down to pick up the notebook, the last page she wrote before they pulled her out of the bathtub still full of water, which is why she was naked when he found her. Notes she was taking for an essay he was not aware of: Structural violence is rarely visible in the present. It inhabits the past or the future. Laws passed or soon to pass, displacements processed or scheduled to be processed. Disease is the same way. It is not violence apparent. It is the dead or slowly dying, the fears of future contamination. Looking back over this century it will become clear to us that the forces governing our world were of this nature.
Putting down the notebook, watching it slip into the water, the pages going dark, the ink spreading over the paper, his razor, his shaving cream, scissors, first-aid kit with everything inside, backpack on his back, the rest in the canvas bag. Christophe carried all the supplies down the stairs with the emergency lights guiding him through the red hush, until he reached -1 and found the car and cursed because he had forgotten the key. He left the backpack leaning against the car and the canvas bag beside it and walked back up the stairs and found the keys and carried Isabela down the stairs slowly, one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back, careful not to hit the guardrails, a human shape, a tarp wrapped in rope, until he reached -1 again, difficult to open doors with the body, then kneeling to rest the body on one knee and opening the trunk and laying the body gently down and reaching over the body for the red plastic jerrycan, which he placed in the backseat with the backpack and the canvas bag. He drove to the peripherique, not stopping for red lights but careful to check for other cars, and doing 60 to conserve gas.
The old man was quiet for a long time and the children sat watching him weep, and Lea did not let go of his hands. Christophe then closed his eyes and began whispering again.
I, Isabela Jakab, take you, Christophe Guillot, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.
The priest now spoke. He pronounced each word solemnly.
Christophe Guillot, do you take Isabela Jakab to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honor her all the days of your life?