XIV
I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and I ' I closed my eyes, holding my head. I felt palpitations in my chest bump. I needed to take deep breaths. I was alone, lost in my suffering, confused mind, my eyes blurred. I imagined the cast assembled outside, enjoying a breath of fresh air, some smoking their fag pending Cindy. I knew she had melted into the city to bury his sentence. Something huge was played in the ultimate plan, which surpassed all that my friend was able to endure. The contrast between my song, too naive for my taste today, and the emotional intensity of the shooting lent character to the ridiculous situation. I still had to unravel the son, who intrigues me back to me, or rather me back to certain unresolved aspects of my life. By choosing Winter as his new video support, Cindy had to shake that, in me, languishing in the backwaters my feelings.
The door opened. I did not dare raise my face. My back was arched, I returned to my shoulders. Posters disappear rather the torrent of tears that kept me informed instead of capacity. Someone came to sit opposite me. More sobs were substituted for those that kept my shame. Crouching
legged, Buster looked at me, her lips giving her an air mine surprisingly serious. Reddened furrows traced their pain to her chin. His back was still right, still impervious to internal shocks which tortured. I will never forget what I read on this face: pride destroyed, suffering, infinite loneliness, shame, the painful birth of an unprecedented humility, an upheaval that left speechless and lifeless, naked as the first days of birth.
Where is Ben, I asked him.
-top, with Malcolm. They have fun.
And thou not play with them?
-No ... more ...
His eyes got set loose somewhere in a corner of the studio, his pupils were soaked with salt to distort the apparent firmness of his lips. The tall fellow, in my eyes, was decomposed into a toddler whose heavy grief, overruling the manly pride, claimed my protection. I felt the fragile figure to curl up in my lap. Having asked for anything, my arm stayed a moment suspended in vacuum, and left upset, as if unaware of the tender offer. My eyes are closed at the same time as my arm on the sentence to comfort her. My tears flowed free and good, abandoned to the convulsions of the naked child. The warmth of his hands on my shoulders, the smell of her hair child in the hollow of my neck, irregularity of his breathing bumping up against my chest, the two united in the same breath abandoned somewhere in the tender maternal home . Pictures of Buster inflexible reached me with astonishing clarity. The day before, it was he who commanded his playmates, he, the yardstick of what they should think and say to him that nobody could catch in their heated races, whose voice he proclaimed the supreme authority . And now it was that I held in my arms, fragile little being inconsolable grief.
Ben feels the best.
-Oh, what makes you say that?
Ben, he believes he will become a star like Will Smith!
Why?
"Because he is that mom chose to play the piano with you. It would have been to me.
-You wanted to play the piano though.
-If I wanted was who feared the dress. I was going to wear it anyway! It sucks!
Ben, he accepted it. He knows that is cinema. Not Ben-
he loves it. It is a PD.
Buster looked at me quizzically, waiting no doubt a reaction from me to the big word that had escaped him. I held his gaze without flinching and without seeming particularly outraged. So he dropped everything without worrying about the authority that I represented as an adult.
Ben, his mom loves women. He has no papa. It sucks! And he believes the best because he played the piano with you.
I got up. I needed air. On the pavement outside, we found the crew on nibbling sandwiches. Lesley handed me hers which was broken into. But is the warmth of her smile that I took with the most voracious. I rose in the midst of discussions which had thrown light on the lips of all smiles. I'm like a diver found impregnated the surface of the water after several minutes of apnea. Karen was laughing on my shoulder to prevent a fall. Without warning, her kiss on my cheek filed his balm on my heart. I shook her hand and she pressed harder than me, which has failed to make me upset. Nobody was referring to the nagging question that all. Everyone behaved as in a intermission.
Cindy was gone and nobody knew where to find it. The minutes passed, more worrisome than hours. Each prolonged delay me dangerously close to the time when I should fly back. I was tempted to contact my guy in LA, but shame me discouraged. Never had I felt such embarrassment vis-à-vis my live band. I had behaved in a manner so rude to them, with such recklessness that I could not forgive myself. A profound certainty inhabited me, however, a folly which was the first Surprise: I would not take the aircraft before the end of the shoot, regardless of the backlog, even if this would make me miss the time together.
(more ...)
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