Jeremy cried for a while, and then, when he felt empty, he sat up and leaned against the wall. “I didn’t want any of it, Simon,” he moaned. “I wanted a normal life with your mother. My life could’ve been so wonderful…if I hadn’t gone crazy. If there wasn’t this monster in me ready to sacrifice everything and everyone to his own pleasure. I don’t know what you’ve suffered, Simon. All I know is that I’m never myself. Only a few clear days here and there let me glimpse the damage I’ve caused.”
“On your birthday?” Simon asked calmly.
“How do you know that?”
“Mom told me.”
“So she believed me.”
“Yes…I mean…She always said she couldn’t trust you because you always lied. But when you gave yourself up to the police for those drugs, she was pretty stunned. Just like when you sent the letter about…Pierre’s wife. Then the warning about that guy, Vladimir. She told me all that, and I wanted to believe.” Simon spoke each word slowly.
“I thought about the day you took me to the hospital. You seemed different that day. You weren’t the man Thomas and I knew. Of course, the next day, Thomas started hating you again; me, I started forgetting you.”
“I didn’t want any of it, Simon,” Jeremy repeated.
Silence fell. Then Simon spoke again.
“If I admit…” He paused to consider his words. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. You hate me, don’t you?”
“I can’t make a distinction between the person you are today, the one you were yesterday, and the one you’ll be tomorrow. It’s too difficult. Anyway, it wouldn’t do any good.”
“I understand,” Jeremy said. He got up and stood face-to-face with his son. “Take care of your mother. I’m going to get the scum that I am as far away from here as possible.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll find a way. Believe me. It’s better to forget the things we can’t control.”
For the first time, Simon lowered his eyes.
Jeremy wanted to take him in his arms and hold him, as much to reassure Simon as to feel, through contact with his son, a little of the affection he so badly needed. “I know what you want me to say. Don’t worry. Go on now.”
Simon was about to leave when Jeremy added one last thing. His voice was almost broken. “Simon, I have to ask…Victoria…your mother…did she start over?”
Simon gave him a wan smile. “It’s better to ignore the things you can’t control.”
The evening stretched out before him. Jeremy was eager for it to be over so he could leave this world of pain. He had a good hour in front of him to come up with a plan that would help him keep his promise. Commit a new crime and go back to jail immediately? That solution was quick and easy. An attempted burglary would suffice.
More than anything, Jeremy thought of Simon. He admired his courage. And he was satisfied knowing he had shaken his son’s hatred for him just a little. He thought of Victoria as well. She knew he existed too from time to time—the Jeremy who loved her. She was right to flee. But every year on his birthday, she must’ve thought of him.
Suddenly, he heard the doorknob turn. Simon was coming back! Jeremy and his son were going to talk things through, try to understand each othe
r, take advantage of these few moments of clarity. For the first time that day, Jeremy had a reason to smile.
The door opened, and three men stormed in, their weapons drawn. The burliest one spoke first. “Don’t move, you son of a bitch. Don’t even twitch or I’ll finish you.”
His fierce canine looks made him terrifying. His torso was stacked on top of two large, powerful thighs, and his enormous head, shaved and dotted with small, cruel eyes, seemed to sprout directly out of his shoulders. Next to him stood a tall blond man with a long, gaunt face. He looked like Curly, one of the Three Stooges. The third man was smaller. He had short brown hair with thick eyebrows hanging over two big black eyes and thick lips that made his mouth look almost feminine. Calmer than his companions, it was enough for him to stare silently at Jeremy.
Curly and the Dog stood on either side of the bed, gun barrels pointed at Jeremy. The short brown-haired man put his weapon away and sat on the table.
“You see, Delègue, we found you,” he said quietly. “We took our time. Did you think we would just forget?”
Jeremy quickly realized who the men were, but he wasn’t afraid. This part of his life didn’t concern him at all. He even had to smile; the solution he was looking for may have spontaneously arrived.
“Nothing to say, Delègue?” Stako asked threateningly.
What could he say? These men didn’t belong to his meager reality. They had shown up on the wrong day.