The Montmorency stranger

The Montmorency stranger
The future, ghost in the hands empty promises everything and nothing! "Victor Hugo"

This story took place some twenty years after my sad metamorphosis. I was hanging in a bar infamous, dusty, with wooden walls were blackened by time. It served all the poisons that we might think. I sipped a verse of this poison has been an hour or two, silently weeping over my sad fate. The music was just as sad, speakers suggesting a cacophonous melody infernal very uninspiring. In the light of a dying light on the ceiling and attacked from all sides, on all sides by the incessant flow of speech without purpose or reason for the barmaid without a degree, which incidentally, had every cow in this seedy bar, I would die boredom. It seemed that the horror would reach its peak when, to my great detriment, the waitress ran her fingers through her hair, but what would save me, that I could never have foreseen.

***
A man in his early thirties came into the bar in a gale, the barmaid and I were the only other people in this bar. We therefore returned in an instant. The boy was wearing a long black leather coat, a black shirt and black jeans slightly worn. He wore a stern face but still young, a disturbing and a long mane of hair, as black as night. He passed quickly through the small dark room in which we were. His eyes then turned to the barmaid who already bulged her false breasts, displaying her cleavage in this way too screaming, suggesting abnormally round breasts. Then his eyes fell on me. His gaze seemed to penetrate me to the marrow of my bones and probe every corner of my soul cursed. He went and sat at the bar, on the stool to my left, his step was unsteady and somewhat uncertain. He asked in a whisper a beer to the young woman who served him.

Fortunately for me, the young man in question was little more beautiful than me, and he was soon his turn to be attacked from all sides, on all sides by the barmaid and her endless illogical ramblings. If the barmaid had been endowed with any intelligence, she would certainly have been insulted at the highest point to see how this kind of lost interest in trivial gossip. Thus he remained for about half an hour as quiet as could be on the streets of Charlevoix, the town where we were at that time, three hours of the morning, and half say the least. Anyway, I remained silent also, I wanted peace for several hours already and now that I had, I was not going to break it for stupid reasons!

But at some point, the man turned his head slightly towards me and a cold voice uttered these words I will never forget.

"Do you believe in life after death?"

This question surprised me and it took a few seconds for me, to find an appropriate response.

"Why not, is it that all is not it possible? I could give you some proof that I had in my life, but, mind you, I don't think it's wise, to wake up darks memories. "

On this, the man turned to his bottle still half full, whereas I was expecting a pause, the stranger continued talking.

"What do you think can make a lost soul to get, the remaining time on earth?"

"Yes, he can come and drink in this bar rotten for another thousand years maybe ..." I replied.

I had to make a huge effort not to bury myself in dark and unnecessary ramblings about my painful destiny.

The barmaid who had heard my last thought hinted noise signifying her indignation. The man suffered a fatal hear, and also very short burst of laughter that froze my blood for a moment, then replied to my answer instead.

"Drinking and wander constantly is this?"
"Perhaps not." "I replied.

This discussion was already gone too far for my taste, and I decided to keep quiet. After all, why should I speak about this kind of a jerk came from god knows where?

This kind of scoundrel had the typical profile of a drug addict looking for a thrill. No I do not believe what I thought at that time, much less today, but I tried m'implanter this idea to myself to give me yet another reason to hide it all.

This conversation, though these buried memories dating back to the surface, I did not need it and I was already burnt out.

This man was there for almost an hour, and I knew that I could spend another hour in his company. If he no go out in twenty minutes is I who will go, I tell myself. As if this man could read my mind he swallowed a great feature that was left of his beer and left the bar as quietly as he had arrived! I watched him and looked one last time before he disappears forever turning left out of this bar.

The silence returned and the atmosphere was what it was, I ordered another beer and was a calm in my mind. Thank you, Brandy, poison that deadens the torments of my mind and dives into stasis so sweet. I was about to fall asleep finger directly on the counter sale of this bar when a man dressed as a police officer made an abrupt and awkward entry. He walked with heavy steps to the bar and his raucous way addressed the oafish barmaid.

"Good evening miss, I'm the Sheriff Franklin. I'm sorry to bother you but there was an accident on the road, higher and we believe that alcohol is the cause. I have a picture here, could you tell me whether you have seen this man before? "

The sheriff handed the barmaid has a photo and immediately resumed.

"This man was killed in the accident, there are about three hours that. You saw him earlier in the evening. We are looking for someone who could identify him at the morgue."

The barmaid was white as a sheet, chanting incomprehensible words, like.

"Tr. Three o'clock you say? Dead?"

I got up to throw a quick glance at the photo. It was he ... I could not restrain a smile when then got up and walked towards the door.

Before I turn to the left to disappear into the streets of Charlevoix Sheriff called me and asked me.

"You, saw you, man?"

I could not help but respond to him before leaving for good.

"Sheriff, do you believe in life after death?"

Karole McDowell 2010 - (c) Reproduction is prohibited without permission from the author.