Beside the Sea by Veronique Olmi Read Free Book Online Page A

reached our room my hand shook with impatience as I opened the door, that bed was a miracle on earth, I took off my jacket and my muddy shoes and threw myself onto it. I got under the sheets and told the kids, I don’t want to hear another word, and I closed my eyes, I wanted to get right inside myself, where nothing more couldreach me. The kids are used to it. I often sleep all day on a Sunday. They sort themselves out. They poke about in the fridge, watch TV, and when it’s fine they go out to play. But in that room there was nothing to do, nowhere to put yourself, so they played with the coins. I could hear them and then, pretty soon, it worked, at last, at last, I went.
    I left everything, left that town and myself along with it: my body was weightless, painless, I sank into something soft and I shed my fear and anger, and my shame too. I went to a world where there’s a place kept for me. Not asleep and not awake, I’m a feather. Not asleep and not awake, but I come undone, I sprawl out like a cotton reel unwinding. Why did I topple over the edge then? Why did I start to dream?
    I dreamt of the sea, I remember, of Stan running towards the sea, into the sea, but not drowning, and me with no words left to call him back… Where was Kevin? I don’t know, I could feel him but not see him, it was like the sea was only there for Stan and the two of them understood each other so well that it couldn’t hurt him. When we understand them, things are good to us, they’re on our side, as soon as there’s any confusion, I’ve noticed, as soon as we don’t understand them, things hurt us. I kept looking out for Stan, trying to spot him way out to sea, wanting him so badly but unable to speak, and sleep was no longer arefuge, just a place. A place where anything can happen, anything can pounce on you, and you go down, you go down somewhere deep, no one to catch you, you just keep falling. I went there. Crushed. Punished. Worn down.
    When I woke up it was almost dark in the room, the sky was full of black clouds, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. I had four boys: the ones in my sleep and the ones in the room, beside me. The four of them didn’t know each other, I was the only one who got them confused, who knew about getting from one world to the other, and the pain that always lurked in between.
    The boys had stopped playing and were lying on the bed: Kevin sucking his make-do noonoo and winding a lock of hair round his finger, and Stan watching me, I think. He smiled at me, he never resents me for sleeping, he knows I’m better after, when I’ve had a chance to “recharge the batteries”, as I call it. I didn’t tell him a nightmare had just cut me right to the quick, I’d rather believe I was fine, too, I’d had a good nap, we agreed on that. Maybe it’s the tiredness that’s made me lose touch with everyone else. I couldn’t spend a full day on my feet, doing this and that, being friendly, polite and happy, no, I wouldn’t make it through a whole day with my eyes open. Shame sleep has two sides to it: it’s a way of forgetting but also a threat. No way of knowing in advance which side you’re goingto fall on. I believe in it every time, I always hope it’s not going to be such a struggle as being awake, I’m often wrong.
    The insomnia got worse when Stan was born. I started listening out for him: crying, breathing, coughing. I thought I had to stand guard, that if I went to sleep he’d play a nasty trick on me, I know it happens, children dying, all alone, in their cots. It was the same with Kevin, of course, and now that they’re both bigger I still keep watch, sometimes I tell myself the whole city needs guarding, that there has to be a light on somewhere. Apparently there are these priests, no, not priests, monks. Apparently there are these monks who pray for the sorrows of the world, day and night, never stopping, taking it in shifts so there’s never a break. Me, I don’t know how to pray.