“Saturday.”
“Then yesterday was real!”
“Friday always comes before Saturday, my friend, that’s a fact! But maybe you experienced it in a sort of hypnotic state. That happens to a lot of people. Sometimes it only lasts a moment, like the feeling of déjà vu that troubles us all; other times it lasts a little longer. Even a small emotional shock can provoke it. Our brain chemistry is capable of far more than we suspect.”
“Do you think a psychotropic drug could have long-lasting effects?”
“Depends on the drug. Your joint certainly didn’t cause your problem. Your high comes from a much stronger and more tenacious drug: Judeo-Christian guilt.”
“Hmm . . .”
“During this episode, did your father reproach you for anything?”
Thomas nodded.
“I suspected as much. Tell me more.”
“I don’t know what he said exactly. Something about me never having asked if he was happy, I think.”
“You see, talking about it is already helping the memory to fade. Who else came to you in the dream? We’ll talk more about your father later.”
“Sophie, like I said.”
“Sophie, whom you’re no longer with because you were unable to commit to a real relationship.”
“Yeah, well, I guess,” Thomas mumbled.
“Even though she was ready for a relationship and wanted to be with you.”
Another nod.
“Who else?”
“My mother and my godmother.”
“Two women you love unconditionally, whom you can never push away. Two women you’ve never been in competition with, the way you have with your father.”
“I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.”
“I do. Did anyone else talk to you?”
“No, no one. Well, except this guy in the street who didn’t make much sense. He gave my dad a good laugh, though. He alluded to some comedian I’m apparently too young to know about.”
“Young or not, you’re magnificently astute in the way you used this faceless stranger to evoke the wounds of childhood. A representation of inattentive adults who never really hear what children say. You see where I’m going with this? Do you feel better?”
“Maybe, though I’m not totally convinced.”
“One more question, then, to reassure you. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t leave anyone out?”
“Are you talking about the conductor?”
“The conductor! The physical embodiment of authority in all its glory. The only person you see as capable of judging and validating your talents. I remember our school days well enough to recall how youstruggled with authority. We’re getting closer now, but we’re still missing someone. And it’s hardly a coincidence that you’ve left him out.”
“Honestly, Sylvain, I can’t think of anyone else.”
“Keep thinking.”
“Marcel?”
