Army Leave, Part II

At the beginning, I had insomnia due to all of their movement and speech but now I'm used to it. People say that the army, it changes a man; personally, the army made me more pessimistic than before.

I'm not close to believing in God or in a Superior Thing becuase it's not possible to have created the barracks of Nancy-Bellefond that I see every day on purpose.

It's funny; I realize that I think more when I'm on the train or metro. . . even the army has its good points.

When I arrive at the East Station, I always hope secretly that there will be someone waiting for me. It's idiotic. I know full well that my mother is still at work at this hour and that Marc is not the kind of guy to cross the suburbs just to carry my bag, but I always have that weak hope.

Before getting off of the escalators to catch the metro I give a last look around in case there's someone . . . and each time on the escalator, my sac seems even heavier.

I'd like for someone to wait for me somewhere . . . it's really not complicated.

Let's go, it's time to get back to the house have a good fight with Marc because here, I'm starting to think too much and I'm going to blow a circuit. While waiting, I light a cigarette in line. It's against the rules, I know, but if they come after me I'll just whip out my military card.

I work for Peace, mister! I woke up at four o'clock this morning for France, ma'am!

No one was at the Corbeil station . . . that was even worse. Maybe they forgot that I was coming tonight. . .

I have to go on foot. I'm sick of public transportation. It's everything in public that I'm sick of, I think.

I met up with these guys on the block that I went to school with. They don't insist that I shake hands with them, that's for sure. A soldier, it scares them.

I made a stop at a cafe that is at an angle to my street. If I had spent less time in this cafe, I probably wouldn't have ended up at the Unemployment Center in six months. At one time, I was behind the pinball machine more often than on campus . . . I would wait five hours and when the others came out of class after listening to the professors all day, I would resell my free games. For them it was a good deal: they paid half price and had a chance to write their initials on the high score board.

Everyone was happy and I bought myself my first pack of cigarettes. I swear that at that moment I believed that I was king. The king of fools, yes.

The boss said:
- So . . . still in the army?
- Yeah.
- That's good.
- Yeah.
- Come see me sometime after I close up so we can talk . . . I have to say that I was in the army and it was really something else. . . no one would ever let us get away with that for a yes or a no . . . I tell you.

And with that he stayed at the bar counter to relive the war with alcohol-induced memories.

The army. . .

I'm tired. I've had enough of this bag cutting into my shoulder and the street that never ends. When I arrive at my house the gate is shut. Oh, this is the last straw. I want to cry right here.

I've been awaye since four o'clock in the morning, I just crossed half the country in a stinky train and now, it would be time to just let everything go, don't you think?

The dogs were waiting for me. In came Bozo who jumped for joy and Micmac who bounded three feet with each jump. . . it was a party. You could say that this was a welcome!

I threw my bag onto the curb and crouched down. My two dogs jumped all over me and, for the first time in weeks, I felt better. So just like that, there were living beings that loved me and waited for me on this small planet. Come here, my treasures. Oh yes, you're a pretty one, oh yes, you pretty things . . .

The house was dark.