"Are you going to say what exactly, or will you tell me later?"
"I'll tell you in a moment. I haven't yet properly understood the message."
"But you promise to give me the address and the map."
"I promise. In the name of the divine energy of love, I promise. Now what was it you wanted to show me?"
I pointed to a golden statue of a young woman riding a horse.
"This. She used to hear voices. As long as people respected what she said, everything was fine. When they started to doubt her, the wind of victory changed direction."
Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, the heroine of the Hundred Years War, who, at the age of seventeen, was made commander of the French troops because she heard voices and the voices told her the best strategy for defeating the English. Two years later, she was condemned to be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft. I had used part of the interrogation, dated February 24, 1431, in one of my books.
She was questioned by Maitre Jean Beaupere. Asked how long it had been since she had heard the voice, she replied:
"I heard it three times, yesterday and today. In the morning, at Vespers, and again when the Ave Maria rang in the evening..."
Asked if the voice was in the room, she replied that she did not know, but that she had been woken by the voice. It wasn't in the room, but it was in the castle.
She asked the voice what she should do, and the voice asked her to get out of bed and place the palms of her hands together.
Then she said to the bishop who was questioning her:
"You say you are my judge. Take care what you are doing; for in truth I am sent by God, and you place yourself in great danger. My voices have entrusted to me certain things to tell to the King, not to you. The voice comes to me from God. I have far greater fear of doing wrong in saying to you things that would displease it than I have of answering you."
Mikhail looked at me: "Are you suggesting..."
"That you're the reincarnation of Joan of Arc? No, I don't think so. She died when she was barely nineteen, and you're twenty-five. She took command of the French troops and, according to what you've told me, you can't even take command of your own life."
We sat down on the wall by the Seine.
"I believe in signs," I said. "I believe in fate. I believe that every single day people are offered the chance to make the best possible decision about everything they do. I believe that I failed and that, at some point, I lost my connection with the woman I loved. And now, all I need is to put an end to that cycle. That's why I want the map, so that I can go to her."
He looked at me and he was once more the person who appeared on stage and went into a trancelike state. I feared another epileptic fit--in the middle of the night, here, in an almost deserted place.
"The vision gave me power. That power is almost visible, palpable. I can manage it, but I can't control it."
"It's getting a bit late for this kind of conversation. I'm tired, and so are you. Will you give me that map and the address?"
"The voice...Yes, I'll give you the map tomorrow afternoon. What's your address?"
I gave him my address and was surprised to realize that he didn't know where Esther and I had lived.
"Do you think I slept with your wife?"
"I would never even ask. It's none of my business."
"But you did ask when we were in the pizzeria."
I had forgotten. Of course it was my business, but I was no longer interested in his answer.
Mikhail's eyes changed. I felt in my pocket for something to place in his mouth should he have a fit, but he seemed calm and in control.
"I can hear the voice now. Tomorrow I will bring you the map, detailed direct
ions, and times of flights. I believe that she is waiting for you. I believe that the world would be happier if just two people, even two, were happier. Yet the voice is telling me that we will not see each other tomorrow."
"I'm having lunch with an actor over from the States, and I can't possibly cancel, but I'll be home during the rest of the afternoon."