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Asking Germaine

Modifié le : 2019/08/04

Why don’t you ask Germaine ?

— Excuse me ?

My sis­ter Marie smiled at me.

— Yes, ask Germaine !

It takes me a few moments to under­stand the mean­ing of her pro­pos­al. We were dis­cussing my expec­ta­tions regard­ing Les Mailles san­guines. I explained to my sis­ter that I was begin­ning to grieve for a pos­si­ble pub­li­ca­tion by a publisher.

— I often talk to her… she adds.

I did­n’t know what to say to him. Although I have asked the Moon to help me (yes, the full moon, you know, when it is so beau­ti­ful above your head and seems to be wait­ing for you to start the con­ver­sa­tion…), although I look at the inter­twin­ing of my heav­en chart with a pseu­do detached look, it nev­er occurred to me to approach a saint, a god, or… my grand­moth­er, my ancestors.

How­ev­er, I know the wide­spread prac­tice. I know a nice Mex­i­can woman who, even in Mon­tre­al, erects altars in respect for the dead. The cult of the ances­tor is pop­u­lar. I under­stand very well the reflex, as old as hope, of sub­mit­ting to one’s des­tiny so that the wind turns in one’s favor.

So why don’t I ask Germaine ?

I had noth­ing smart to answer my sis­ter, cer­tain­ly not some­thing sci­en­tif­ic any­way. I could have replied that Ger­maine and I were not the best friends in the world, that I had min­i­mal con­tact with her. So I don’t want to abuse it. She prob­a­bly has to sat­is­fy peo­ple who will have been more agree­able to her…

And then, I am the first to say it : help your­self, and the sky (or Ger­maine) will help you.

But here it seems to me that I have done every­thing in my pow­er to help me and that noth­ing is com­ing. Well, we could blame it on Mer­cury’s fault, which is cur­rent­ly ret­ro­grade (no time to do busi­ness), at the Book Fair, which will have kept all the pub­lish­ers busy…

No, it’s not an idea to ask Ger­maine. She’d have to hear me first if she can (she’s dead, after all). And then I could also ask Antoinette, or Hec­tor (my mater­nal grand­par­ents). I don’t even think about Lucien (my pater­nal grand­fa­ther) whom I did­n’t even know.

Some­times I join my hands when I let myself be rocked by the water in the show­er. I then feel close to the invis­i­ble Ganges. I wait for the sweet breath of hope to deign to blow on me. Launch­ing a prayer in heav­en, throw­ing a bot­tle into the sea, lin­ger­ing on a cloud of sym­bol­ic still­ness, all this can work because so lit­tle is known about the Unknown.

I just smiled at Marie. Our con­ver­sa­tion went in dif­fer­ent direc­tions. The sub­ject was closed.

How­ev­er, for the past two days, I have been think­ing about Ger­maine and my sis­ter’s suggestion.

I have noth­ing to lose… Mer­cury becomes direct again soon…

How do we do that ?

Ger­maine ? Are you there ?

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