Night Across the Street Page #6

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Yes.

More than ever.

You don't know how lucky you are.

Luck?

More like a curse.

I thought you were happy

with your secret lovers.

Even you.

Even me.

That's how it is.

Everyone knew that I was in love.

Everyone except me.

There's even a song about it.

Everyone Except Me.

Passion is like that.

Real passion.

It's born inside and grows

until everyone can see it

except for oneself.

What about mirrors?

Mirrors make me laugh.

They always lie.

No, Nigilda.

Mirrors don't lie.

It's the light that tricks us.

For better

or for worse.

Tonight

is St. John's Eve.

What difference does that make?

Tonight mirrors show us whatever they like.

Look in the mirror.

I can't see myself.

That's the way it is.

That's the way it is?

That's not me.

I've seen him before somewhere.

That's the way it is.

What do you see?

I can't see anything.

But I'm looking at myself.

Why is there so much blood?

It's a bit much, isn't it?

Far too much.

Far too much for one bullet wound.

Isn't it?

What's happening in this house?

Isn't it?

It's too much,

far too much...

Here I am.

You. Here?

So many years have gone by.

Far too many.

You said it.

And...

What can I offer you?

They say that you make ships

in glass bottles.

Is that true?

It is.

I need one.

What for?

That's where I live.

In a bottle?

On a ship.

The one I had broken.

How did it break?

A bullet.

The same bullet that killed Doa Nigilda

ended up in my bottle.

Nigilda was killed by a gun?

"The first was for her, the second for him

"and the third for me."

That's the song

of the two brothers of the sea-shore.

I like sailing ships.

People can travel in them.

That's what they're for.

I don't need to travel anymore.

Thank goodness, don't you think?

If you say so.

Aren't you dancing tonight?

No.

The bar's closed.

Until further notice.

Because of that crime.

That crime...

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Wasn't it?

But I feel good here.

Can I stay?

Stay for as long as you like.

Thank you.

I wish everyone were like you.

Right...

I'm going to sleep.

Dream about us.

Thank you.

I don't want a tomb, a cross

flowers or tears

Don't cry for me

Don't pray for me

All I want is that when I die

My body is thrown into the sea...

So, that massacre

at the cursed boarding house...

My house?

Call it what you like.

Idle gossip,

that's all.

Nobody's killed anybody.

Don't believe the papers.

So nobody was killed

in the cursed boarding house?

They moved, that's all.

They moved on to the next world.

To where those buildings

are that you say exist.

The ideas you have!

Do you intend to go?

Or will you stay in the haunted house?

I'd rather be alone

than surrounded by fools.

Monsieur Giono?

Are you there?

Are you there?

Show yourself.

Monsieur Giono!

I was your student.

Show yourself!

Tonight

my favorite historical character

will be Long John Silver.

Nobody knows it

but the famous and cruel Captain Silver,

the pirate,

was a fantastic story-teller

and told me many stories.

Captain...

What?

Why are you angry with me?

Because you don't listen to me.

Because you're afraid of leaving.

And you're afraid of staying.

I promise it won't happen again.

Really?

Do you really mean that?

Yes, I promise.

Swear by the two brothers of the sea-shore.

I swear by the brothers of the sea-shore.

Over there.

Once upon a time, a long time ago,

I told you a story.

Do you remember?

Yes, Captain.

What was the story about?

A man who was retired, who died,

or got killed, something like that.

What do you mean, something like that?

The old man had some money hidden away

and someone came to kill him.

He looked everywhere but couldn't find him

because the old man had gone out.

Are you sure he'd gone out?

I think so,

but I'm not sure.

Carry on,

let's see how what you make of this one.

I don't know.

You don't know?

Neither do I.

The man who came to kill him disappeared

and left the pistol on the dining room table.

Did that happen, or did it seem to happen?

I can't remember.

- Or, I don't want to know.

- Go on.

Rhododendron.

Rhododendron. Here you are.

Where were you?

Where did you go, Rhododendron?

But you're back now.

Here I am.

Good.

What do I have to do?

Close your eyes.

That's all?

That's all. Close your eyes.

But anyone

can do that.

Well, close them, then.

How strange!

I can't.

You see that it isn't that easy?

It isn't that easy.

Let me help you.

Say the magic word.

Rhododendron.

How's life?

Well, I've just killed myself.

Really?

That's incredible!

It was my time to go.

Life is lent to us, that's all.

We simply follow the leader.

No, Don Celso, I'm in the lead.

I got knocked over by a bus in Santiago.

That must have been a long time ago.

Time is like gusts of wind,

like windmills, Don Celso.

What about your niece?

She got knocked over by a bus.

One tragedy after another.

And the radio?

What radio?

Didn't you used to work at the radio?

No, Don Celso, it hasn't been invented yet.

- This takes some getting used to.

- You said it.

Fresh bread, fresh bread...

Fresh bread, fresh bread...

Where are they off to in such a hurry?

They don't exist, they're from around here.

They live here?

They're the memories of the pistol,

or rather, of the barrel.

Speaking of which,

is there a good bar for a shot of whiskey?

The things you come up with, Don Celso.

There aren't any bars here.

A pistol doesn't drink?

But it likes chili peppers and sunflowers.

That's where we're headed for,

into the sun.

Have a good journey.

They killed me.

I killed myself.

I was going to the boarding house.

To warn you.

I got there too late.

So what shall we do, then?

Let's go back to the boarding house.

Why?

Because that's where we're from.

True,

that's where we're from.

Spirit...

Are you there?

Show yourself.

What was that?

A seagull.

What was that?

A dog barking at the owls.

There they are!

Are they there?

There's no point. They're not coming.

Somebody touched me.

Sweetheart...

What was that?

A cat on the roof.

Come on,

they're calling us.

Where are they going?

I don't know.

Into the coming night,

where the others are waiting for them.

Are they alive or dead?

They're more dead than we are.

That's a good one!

What was that?

Mice.

No,

frogs.

No.

It's the living who are calling us.

They say distance makes you forget

Let's go, we don't want to make them wait.

I don't believe a word of it

I'll always be a captive

Let them run, let them run,

don't anybody help them!

Let them come, let them come,

don't anybody stop them.

Let them run, let them run,

don't anybody save them.

That's impossible!

What are they doing here?

Are they who I think they are?

They seem to be.

Beethoven and friends.

The very same?

I imagined them to be quite different.

Beethoven doesn't look at all like,

that bust with his name on it.

This must be the famous Jean Giono,

the one our poor Don Celso

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