Father says:
"I won't lose my balance."
We go on:
"You have to retrieve the two boards and do the same thing at the next fence, seven meters further on."
Father laughs:
"It's child's play."
"Yes, but the space between the two fences is mined."
Father goes pale:
"Then it's impossible."
"No. It's a matter of luck. The mines are arranged in a zig-zag, in a W. If you follow a straight line, you only risk walking on one mine. And if you take big steps, you have almost a one in seven chance of avoiding it."
Father thinks for a moment, then says: "I'll risk it."
We say:
"In that case, we are quite willing to help you. We'll go with you to the first fence."
Father says:
"Okay. Thanks. You wouldn't have something to eat, by any chance?"
We give him some bread and goat cheese. We also offer him some wine from Grandmother's old vineyard. We pour into his glass a few drops of the sleeping potion that Grandmother was so good at making out of plants.
We take Father into our room and say: "Good night, Father. Sleep well. We'll wake you tomorrow."
We go to bed on the corner seat in the kitchen.
The Separation
Next morning, we get up very early. We make sure that Father is sleeping soundly.
We cut four boards.
We dig up Grandmother's treasure: gold and silver coins and a lot of jewelry. We put most of it into a linen sack. We also take a grenade each, in case we are surprised by a patrol. By getting rid of the patrol, we can gain time.
We make a reconnaissance tour near the frontier to locate the best place: a dead angle between two watchtowers. There, at the foot of a tall tree, we hide the linen sack and two of the boards.
We go back and eat. Later, we bring Father his breakfast. We have to shake him to wake him up. He rubs his eyes and says:
"It's been a long time since I slept so well."
We put the tray on his knees. He says:
"What a feast! Milk, coffee, eggs, ham, butter, jam! You just can't find these things in the Big Town. How do you do it?"
"We work. Eat up, Father. We won't have time to give you another meal before you leave."
He asks:
"I'm going this evening?"
We say:
"You're going right now. As soon as you're ready."
He says:
"Are you crazy? I refuse to cross that bitch of a frontier in broad daylight! They'll see us!"
We say:
"We have to see too, Father. Only stupid people try to cross the frontier at night. At night, the frequency of the patrols is four times greater and the area is continually swept by searchlights. On the other hand, the surveillance is relaxed around eleven in the morning. The frontier guards think that nobody would be crazy enough to try to get through at that hour."
Father says:
"You're absolutely right. I put myself in your hands."
We ask:
"Will you allow us to search your pockets while you eat?"
"My pockets? Why?"
"You mustn't be identified. If anything happens to you and they learn that you are our father, we'll be accused as accessories."
Father says:
"You think of everything."
We say:
"We have to think of our own safety."
We search his clothes. We take his papers, his identity card, his address book, a train ticket, some bills, and a photograph of Mother. We burn everything in the kitchen stove, except the photograph.
At eleven o'clock, we leave. Each of us carries a board.
Father carries nothing. We ask him just to follow us and make as little noise as possible.
We are getting near the frontier. We tell Father to lie down behind the big tree and not to move.
Soon, a few meters away from us, a two-man patrol passes by. We can hear them talking:
"I wonder what there'll be to eat."
"The same shit as usual."
"There's shit and shit. Yesterday it was disgusting, but it's good sometimes."
"Good? You wouldn't say that if you'd ever tasted my mother's soup."
"I've never tasted your mother's soup. Me, I never had a mother. I've never eaten anything but shit. In the army, at least, I eat well once in a while."
The patrol moves off. We say:
"Go on, Father. We have twenty minutes before the next patrol arrives."
Father puts the two boards under his arm, he moves forward, he places one of the boards against the fence, he climbs up.
We lie face down behind the big tree, we cover our ears with our hands, we open our mouths.
There is an explosion.
We run to the barbed wire with the other two boards and the linen sack.
Father is lying near the second fence.
Yes, there is a way to get across the frontier: it's to make someone else go first.
Picking up the linen sack, walking in the footprints and then over the inert body of our Father, one of us goes into the other country.
The one who is left goes back to Grandmother's house.
The Proof
The second book in the Book of Lies series, © 1991
Translated by David Watson
1
On his return to Grandmother's house, Lucas lies down by the garden gate in the shade of the bushes. He waits. An army truck pulls up in front of the border post. Some soldiers get out and lower a body wrapped in a camouflaged sheet to the ground. A sergeant comes out of the border post and gives a sign, and the soldiers open the sheet. The sergeant whistles.
"It'll be a real job identifying him! You've got to be crazy to try and cross that bitch of a border, and in broad daylight too!"
A soldier says, "You'd think people would realize it's impossible."
Another soldier says, "The people around here know that. It's the ones from elsewhere who try to get across."
The sergeant says, "Okay, let's go see the idiot across the road. Maybe he knows something."
Lucas goes into the house. He sits on the corner seat in the kitchen. He slices some bread, puts a bottle of wine and some goat's cheese on the table. There is a knock. The sergeant and a soldier come in.
Lucas says, "I was expecting you. Sit down. Have some wine and cheese."
The soldier says, "Thanks."
He takes some bread and some cheese; Lucas pours the wine.
The sergeant says, "You were expecting us. Why?"
"I heard the explosion. After explosions someone always comes to ask if I saw anyone."
"And did you see anyone?"
"No."
"As usual."
"Yes, as usual. People don't come here to tell me they intend to cross the border."
The sergeant laughs. He takes some wine and cheese.
"You might have seen someone hanging around here, or in the forest."
"I saw no one."
"If you had seen someone, would you say so?"
"If I told you I would, you wouldn't believe me."
The sergeant laughs again. "I sometimes wonder why they call you the idiot."
"Me too. I simply have a nervous disorder due to suffering a psychological trauma as a child during the war."
The soldier asks, "What? What did he say?"
Lucas explains, "I'm a bit funny in the head because of the air raids. It happened when I was a child."
The sergeant says, "Your cheese is very good. Thank you. Come with us."
Lucas follows them. Pointing to the body, the sergeant says, "Do you know this man? Have you seen him before?"