The Patience Stone Page #3

In the meantime, I had to

sleep with your mother.

She watched over my virginity.

The day you returned

from the front,

when I saw you for

the first time...

I remember it so well

like it was yesterday.

You were just like you are now.

Not a word, not a look.

You sat down next to me,

indifferent.

But me,

I was watching you on the sly.

I knew nothing about men,

about husbands...

I watched your every gesture.

But you...

You were still thinking

about the war.

I wonder if you even

noticed me that day.

I have to leave.

I've talked a lot.

I have to see to the girls.

My only example of married

life were my parents.

What an example!

The only thing that my father

was ever interested in

were his quails,

his fighting quails.

I would often see him

kiss his quails,

but never my mother,

my sisters,

Me.

Never.

He would always sit cross-legged,

take his quail in one hand and

rest it against his lower belly.

With his other hand,

he'd stroke it...

He'd stroke it for hours.

Even if we had visitors,

he'd keep on doing it.

If he lost at a quail fight,

he would go mad.

As soon as he got back,

he would look for any

excuse to beat us.

As if it were our fault.

He would hit my mother,

my sisters.

I hated his quails.

But he was so proud of them.

It was as if they were

all he lived for.

I remember...

I was nine or 10.

It was very cold.

I saw my father

put one of his quails

in his trousers.

Be gone with you!

For a long time, I thought

all men had a quail

between their legs.

One day, he must have won

a lot of money at a fight.

Well, I suppose so.

He had bought a quail,

a very expensive one.

He trained it for weeks on end.

But he lost.

There you are at last!

Hello. May I?

- Brought your quail?

- Yes, I have it with me.

Your bird's running off!

That's it, you lose!

Come on, hand over the money!

He had staked too much.

He couldn't afford to pay.

So he gave away my elder

sister to honor his bet.

My sister, aged 12,

left with a man of 40.

I was scared

of becoming the stake

in a bet, too.

I was really scared.

Guess what I did.

A cat used to come to our garden.

One day,

I took the quail from its cage.

I gave it to the cat.

It carried it off to a

corner to eat it in peace.

I followed it.

But the cat turned on me.

It scratched my face.

Right here.

You never asked me about this scar.

Why am I telling you all this?

I never wanted anyone to know,

not even my sisters,

not even my aunt.

It's because of you.

You're compelling me to talk.

You hear everything I say.

I'm sure of that!

You just want me to talk,

to tell you everything.

Go to hell!

Dear God, forgive me.

Leave us.

What's happened?

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