My Mother, the Mermaid Page #3

No! Stay there.

Don't come in.

We went a little far.

No use regretting it.

But you're too young.

Too close to the

time you prayed.

It's not my fault.

In an ideal world, a pure

friendship would unite us.

But there's no ideal world.

I'm exactly how

you saw me, Pierre.

That's how I want to

remain in your eyes.

I want to be that

mother for you.

Now, listen.

I don't want to see you.

We could never live together

without this disorder.

Because of this disorder we

can't see each other now.

Don't put on your

serious face, please.

What we did...

It would be insane

to do it again.

But being next to you,

I'll only dream of doing it again.

I know you don't

judge me now.

You must remain

faithful to me.

Even if we're thousands

of kilometers apart.

We must refuse together the

world of those patiently waiting...

for death to enlighten them.

We must turn our backs

to them with pride.

Take care of the house.

Remember the code?

Don't disappoint me, Pierre.

I'II phone you.

Go.

Go on.

Bless me.

You scare me.

Would you accept to be

the mother of a god?

To be Mary?

Why are sons always

asked to be gods?

Sorry.

I thought no one was around.

I let myself in.

Hold on, I'm coming.

I didn't hear you.

So your mother left?

I came to give her the key.

Am I bothering you?

No.

Are you OK?

You don't seem OK.

I'm fine.

Are you expecting someone?

No.

I'm alone.

Am I bugging you?

Want something to drink?

Are you that unhappy?

Sorry.

I guess if I

was able to cry,

this would be less

uncomfortable.

Maybe we should go out.

To Yumbo?

No.

Did my mother tell you

to take care of me?

Yes.

I obeyed.

It intimidated me...

It excited me.

She assured me you'd

feel just as awkward.

That's why I said yes.

What are we

supposed to do now?

Have fun.

-We're off to a bad start.

-On the contrary!

You should take

me in your arms.

Do I disgust you?

PIease don't tease me.

So you'll disappear

as you appeared?

One day, I met this guy...

He asked me if I was

who he thought I was.

"What are you thinking?"

I asked him.

"I think you're a

young pig", he said.

I told him yes.

I told him I was a pig.

We saw each other often.

For a month.

Around times.

He fed me.

He force-fed me.

I gained about 8 kilos.

I was forbidden to wash.

That's disgusting.

You get used to it.

I ended up Iiking it.

He made me eat all

kinds of stuff.

Sometimes cat food.

Then one day he tied me up.

He told me:
"You're

ready for the slaughter."

He had this huge

butcher's knife.

He started sharpening it

slowly right under my nose.

I got real excited!

You weren't afraid?

He was weird, but not

in the dangerous way.

Actually kind of sweet.

After each hit...

He always had this look.

This pause for an OK

so he could continue.

What did he do with

his knife afterwards?

He bled me.

From under my belly button.

It didn't really hurt.

The blood dripped slowly.

He collected it in a

little plastic bowl.

He said he was going to

make a blood sausage.

Then he pointed the

knife at my throat.

I got really scared.

I panicked.

I started to scream.

He said:
"Squeal, Squeal!"

I really thought

it was over.

I passed out,

lost consciousness.

I think that's why he

didn't go all the way.

The next day, he told me

that I wasn't serious enough.

He wanted real young

pigs to slaughter.

He showed me the door,

kicked me out.

I think that guy really

killed these two young Belgians.

He showed me these chunks

of meat in his freezer.

"This is Frank", he said.

"That's Richard

next to him."

He wanted to excite you?

Maybe.

All I know, it

really worked.

Where can I find the coffee?

Yea, yea...

I'm coming.

Hansi...

Your friends kind

of freak me out.

I only know Loulou.

Want them to leave?

What exactly are we

doing all together?

Exactly?

You're the one who said it

would be easier in a group.

I'd prefer it if they Ieft.

OK.

Then make coffee.

Alright, we'll have coffee.

Hansi!

Aren't you staying?

No, Pierre.

I decided to go

home with Loulou.

Bye.

Call me, if you want.

We'll have lunch

at the Residence.

Did I keep you waiting?

Like my outfit?

I horsed around all morning.

I like the sound,

but not the whip.

Disappointed?

At my feet!

Lick my boots!

Why the long face?

Did my mother

pay you, Hansi?

Pierre.

Where did you and

Loulou go last night?

I never moved from here.

I couldn't sleep.

Because I was

thinking of you.

-Believe me?

-No, not at all.

Well...

Do you want to go?

No.

Want the whip?

Do you want to whip me to death

as punishment for being late?

Do you really think I'm a

whore paid by your mother?

No, no, no...

None of that here!

This is a respectable place.

No, wait.

Wait, wait.

Take it out.

Stop that.

Why?

-That's dirty.

-No, it's not.

Don't do that.

Stop it!

What do you want me to do?

Nothing.

Let's just stay like this.

No more touching?

Sure, we can touch.

But gently, can't we?

You'll never manage.

We'll ask Loulou.

It's me.

Still a lot of people?

Come here.

Come and help us, please.

We'll wait.

It's so nice being naked.

Take off my boots, please.

We can't manage.

What time is it?

A little after 2.

Already?

Can we still get

something to eat?

Yes, ma'am.

We'll come down.

Very well, ma'am.

Who is Loulou really?

A childhood friend.

He runs the Residence.

But...

Nothing's ever simple.

Let's eat first.

No, but tell me who he is.

No. For me, Loulou is

our servant, alright?

Feel...

I'm still dripping.

Enough.

That's enough.

What did you say

you did for a living?

Give me a break.

I've sh*t in places better than this.

I stink..

so I'm going to take a shower...

and you can take your clothes off

and get on the bed and...

you can stay dressed.

Charming!

-Want to leave?

-No, of course, we're staying.

Take off your clothes.

F*** her.

Get up!

OK, sit down here.

I want you to look at her, not me.

You got a problem with that?

Not at all.

Don't smoke in my room, please!

Hello.

Hello.

Spanish?

Where's your mom?

Are you Italian?

I'm going for a walk.

Sometimes, I can admit if I

love Hansi's ass so much,

then it's because I

want God to curse it.

I now associate joy...

That faraway joy in

God that I knew...

I admit they're

both equally holy.

Her ass makes me realize

I never really loved God.

I liked the idea of

being abandoned by God.

I was reciting

catechism, that's all.

God is something other

than my old prayers.

He is my way of

losing my senses.

By loving Hansi, I hope

to slowly lose my senses.

In a slow way, but not

lifeless, you know.

A choppy slowness.

Choppy and scalp-tingling.

It doesn't always

make me happy.

I don't think I lose my

senses more with Hansi...

than with God.

I don't know if you wanted

to guide me toward this slowness.

Maybe you think Hansi isn't

perverse enough for me.

What are you doing?

I've been looking

one hour for you!

I'm writing to my mother.

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