I’ll keep you posted.
Kisses,
Lisou
P.S. Having two managers for the same company should be banned, especially when the managers are related by blood. This morning, Bastien used our weekly meeting to put down my work once again. I said nothing. I flashed him my best smile. That reaction glued his mouth shut more effectively than all the responses I usually throw his way! It’s because this “quest” gives me a sort of legitimacy that extends even to the office … but all the same I jotted down the name of that poison because, two streets over, there’s a Japanese restaurant owner who owes me a favor …
from Anne-Lise to Sylvestre
RUE DES MORILLONS, JUNE 5, 2016
Dear Sylvestre,
It’s not over yet! You thought I was going to stop at the Breton border? Well then you don’t know me at all, because my path continues in Waldo’s footsteps (no, I don’t have his first name yet; that’s a reference from my friend Maggy to a childhood cartoon by Martin Handford. Children have to find a small character with a striped sweater in the middle of a multicolored crowd, and I plan to find our man before the last page). I get more excited every day. I talk about my progress all the time at home, and without batting an eye I tolerate the mocking winks Julian (my partner) and the children give each other. How could I expect them to understand my passion for literature? They think that we forget to live our own lives when we slide into the existence of others …
As you may have guessed, when we are all at the table they generally half-listen to me and they find it amusing to indulge my pastime of choice. Nevertheless, yesterday, all three stopped chewing in unison when I announced my trip to Brussels (more on that later), and Julian shook his head while rolling his eyes (which brought about a coughing fit because his mouth was full … nicely done!).
For nearly two months now, I’ve had a small place in the back of my mind for your book and for the very particular impact it has had on the people whose paths it has crossed. I suspect my husband thinks that I’m exaggerating. He’s always known my love for books but complains that they invade my daily life. As soon as he sees the dreamy look on my face when an author infects my mind, he reacts as if he had come upon a lover hidden in our bedroom closet. I even hear him sigh when I slide with delight into our bed and throw myself without restraint at one of the numerous novels piled up on my nightstand. So of course, the idea of this trip to a village with an unpronounceable name whose official language is Dutch doesn’t make him happy at all.
To explain to you (finally) why I’m going over there, I have to tell you about the man who left your novel at Roscoff. I met him on Friday. He’s named Victor Cléder and he’s in charge of an office of European affairs. Don’t ask me what his job is; I wasn’t listening to his explanation, I was too impatient for him to get to the reason for our meeting.
I only know that he lives between Paris and Brussels and develops business relations in both places. When he’s in Belgium, he stays in Huldenberg, in a studio he rents from a couple of friends. It was there, accompanying their son to his weekly sports practice, that Victor discovered your manuscript. He’s not a sports fanatic and was glad to kill the time with this novel abandoned on a chair. At the end of the practice, he decided to bring it back to Paris so he could read the end, without even stopping to wonder whether it belonged to someone. He still had a few dozen pages left to read when he went to Roscoff to sort out his grandmother’s will (either our friend is a slow reader, or he’s overworked and only picks up the book three times per month).
What do you think he does once he’s finished the book? Go on, guess … Victor decides to switch careers! He swears that this little revolt had been planned for a long time … That might be true, but it wasn’t until after reading your book that he decided to stop his incessant back-and-forth between the European authorities that employ him! In six months, he will say good-bye to the various offices to take a sabbatical year.
Keep in mind that Victor is not a big reader and certainly not a man to change his beliefs because of a book. He also started to squander away his Breton inheritance by getting rid of all his family’s books, and I would have openly declared him “boorish” if he hadn’t had information for me. He doesn’t even remember sliding your book to the bottom of one of those boxes and I think we can write off his gesture as a simple mistake. But we know (at least I do) that without the discovery of your book, he would still be a busy man, torn between his dreams and his job for a few more years …
So here I am ready to face your Belgian readers to find our Waldo. Don’t be mad at me … I simply can’t give up when we’re so close to our goal.
Warmly,
Anne-Lise
P.S. I hope that the flooding going on not far from you won’t affect your mailman’s route … Perhaps his tenacity will spur him to complete his mission aboard a canoe!
from Sylvestre to Anne-Lise
LES CHAYETS, JUNE 8, 2016
What are you playing at?
Reading your first letter, I thought you lived the hectic and very full life of a woman with a demanding profession (you spoke of late meetings) all while raising two teenagers and managing the household. Yet here you are on the point of neglecting family and work to go off and chase a stranger, the author of the end of a book that has nothing to do with you!
Why try to pursue him thirty years later? Are you aware that your Waldo doesn’t care at all about this book? Or did the second half of the book impress you so much that you hope to come upon an established, famous writer? Are you nothing but a groupie in the end, collecting autographs and selfies?
Sorry! I’m attacking you again. I have a tendency to neglect all manners now that I’ve retreated to the countryside where my few interlocutors are the moles in the garden and the spiders in the attic. You relayed the sentiments of my readers and I thank you for that, because it has evoked in me an unexpected and overwhelming emotion. But the thought of a search that leads you to abandon those around you in addition to your work to go to the four corners of the globe?
Stop this senseless running around right now. Once I’ve conquered my fear of travel, I promise I’ll visit Brussels and pick back up the trail where you left off. It’s an enticing city and now you’ve given me additional motivation to go. But don’t get in trouble with your loved ones for a few old pages from thirty years ago, that would be ridiculous. Or, if you have a real reason to set out on the hunt for this Waldo, explain it to me and don’t leave me hanging, worried I’ll soon hear you’ve been committed because of me.
I await your response.
Sylvestre
P.S. My response serves as proof that the mailman is still making his way through our streets. He’s wearing a raincoat and boots, but the showers haven’t discouraged him. I believe he thinks highly of his job, and would finish his route by boat if the bad weather persists …
from Anne-Lise to Maggy
RUE DES PIERRES, BRUSSELS, JUNE 11, 2016
Dear Maggy,
Do you remember how we dreamed of visiting Brussels a few years ago? Well, let’s get back to planning again, please, because this city is magnificent. You can’t resist the charm of the Grand Place with all its shops overflowing with souvenirs and chocolate … When we were young, we would always bring back the kitschiest gifts for our friends and I’m sure we could break a record if we resumed our game here! On that note, I bought a little present that will brilliantly decorate the shelf of your living room …