Almost Peaceful Page #3

and the air entered and le

through the holes.

Samuel could breathe.

He was cured.

But with each breath,

the air made a whistling sound.

Samuel was different now.

No one would play with him.

Samuel was sad

and ran off into the forest.

In the forest, there was a king

who worked miracles.

He let no one into his kingdom.

If he did, people would bother him

all the time.

He was protected by invisible beings

who fired catapults

with amazing precision.

The stones didn't wound people

but just kept them away.

Out of breath,

weary and disheartened,

he lay down under a tall tree

to sleep.

He was still sleeping when,

one autumn morning...

Well, Samuel?

He knew his name.

Let me die.

No. You want to live

but you can't manage it.

You want to see the king so he can

cure that whistle with a miracle.

But you have to earn your miracle.

Your whistle makes birds fall silent

and we can hear you

all over the forest.

Listen!

Come.

"I'll teach you the birds' song."

the old man said.

"They'll go with you

and take you to the king.

"Just listen to them

to understand what they sing."

And Samuel learnt to sing

like the warbler.

the goldfinch,

the robin, the song thrush.

and, one night, the nightingale.

Samuel loved the forest,

the old man and the birds.

Some days, when he ran,

Samuel felt as if he could fly too.

Cold weather arrived

and the leaves fell.

It was winter.

Are you the king?

Sit down near me.

You're angry with me

because I didn't cure you before.

I couldn't do it then

and can't do it now.

"You'll never be a child

like the others.

"You're special because

you managed to come this far.

"I haven't worked the miracle

but you have,

"you who entered the kingdom."

Samuel stands up,

rubs his backside,

because the ground is damp

at dawn.

He smiles at the old king.

But the king has vanished.

Samuel is alone and happy

in the clearing.

Is it over?

It's over.

I don't understand.

Was it you in the woods?

Isn't Simone here?

Not tonight. Her neighbors son

died and she's, staying with her.

It's awful...

Just think, what can you do

with the kid's things?

The things of a child

who dies at home?

I've no idea.

Any message for Simone?

No, don't bother.

Looking out for Albert?

No, I'm not waiting.

Albert only ever goes out

on business.

He never goes out for strolls.

"Some stroll, others work.

"And strolling

never gets you anywhere."

As Albert would say.

I've made some tea.

Smell these, Charles.

A rose's scent is stronger

at the end of summer.

You're calm, Charles.

Your calm does me good.

I like it when you're around.

I'm happy here at the workshop.

Do you know why?

Because Albert makes sure I am.

Even in the off-season,

he finds work for me.

When he's on a delivery like now,

he asks you to keep me company.

He helps me go on living.

He never says things

to help me go on living.

Can one say those things?

Some people do.

And that would be enough?

I'd like that.

Albert's like that.

He does things, he doesn't say them.

Albert loves his family, not me.

Before the children, he loved you.

Perhaps he never said so

but you never wondered.

Now that he loves

Betty and Raphael as well,

you're panicking.

But without you around,

he wouldn't have much of a family.

Before we married,

he'd kiss me on the street.

Once, he asked his mother

to send me a shawl,

a black shawl, with big flowers.

That was the last we heard

from his family before the war.

I gave it to the farmer's wife

who hid Betty and me.

Albert never buys me presents now.

He tells me to buy what I want.

Did you wonder if he loved you less

during the war?

I was too busy worrying.

I'm afraid of growing old,

of no longer wanting to fight

to be happy.

I feel so alone.

It's horrible being so alone

with your husband.

You don't want to listen, so

you can guess what I'm going to say.

With you,

I don't feel lonely or afraid.

Is that supposed to comfort me?

Do you pity me?

Do I look as if I pity you?

Don't be ironic,

even if your suffering

gives you that right.

Suffering doesn't give you rights.

On Sundays,

in the empty workshop,

I always look at your table,

I come to your place.

Each morning, I'm eager to get here

to be near to you.

That's how I realize

I was missing you.

In the evening, if Albert and I

don't talk.

I think of you.

Maybe Albert

thinks of someone else too.

Because I'm here,

you think I'm available...

and start seeing me as someone else.

I'm not free.

My memories keep me busy.

I haven't left my wife

and she hasn't left me.

We've been parted. That's all.

I'm not alone.

We lived 10 years together.

Happy times can vary in length.

Mine lasted 10 years.

I have memories for a lifetime.

Don't take my wife's place,

she's not here to defend herself.

I live day to day

because that allows me to remember

and if I don't remember,

who will?

When you're moved,

you wipe your glasses.

But I've noticed

you only wipe the inside.

Because you cry and hide it.

I need to live quietly.

Just quietly.

I cherish the afternoons

when we're here alone,

with your tea

quenching my thirst and...

You think that was easy to say?

Can't you tell I've been

thinking about it for weeks?

What must I do if my belly aches

when you look at me?

Do you think that's easy to say too?

But if I hadn't said it,

I'd never forgive myself.

If Albert asks

why I haven't finished, tell him...

I don't know...

Tell him what you like.

Good evening, Lea.

Has Charles gone?

Charles told me

one of your stories once.

You had a friend with

a younger brother that he tormented.

Remember?

Yes, it was amazing

what he put up with.

And you couldn't stand it.

One day, you slapped the little boy.

For no reason.

That's right. The little boy.

It seems so unfair.

The older boy, shocked and enraged,

slapped you in turn

and never spoke to you again.

I never saw them again.

You did. In Paris, before the war.

Together and inseparable.

They were arrested on the same day

and deported together.

Have I ever hit you, Lea, my love?

Charles hasn't hit you either?

I don't need to hit Charles to know

that you and I are inseparable.

Come on.

Let's eat.

Sit down.

Raphael has told us a lot about you.

Is this a nice break

from summer camp?

Have some bread, Georges.

Won't you sit down?

I don't want jam.

You won't sit down?

He doesn't want jam.

It's good strawberry jam

from the country.

No, I don't want any.

I've got work waiting.

I've made up Betty's bed

for Georges.

You can sleep in our bed.

Put your bear in the big bed

so he can get used to it.

"Always money matters,

never family."

"Always money matters. Never..."

That's not it.

Money! That's all you talk about!

My mother sewed too.

My father went out to work.

One evening,

he brought home a big jar of jam.

He wanted us to eat it right away.

Mother said it was a luxury

and we should wait

till harder times.

She put it in the cupboard.

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