MICHEL TOURNIER
343
out flames and sparks all over the barn. You can imagine the result!
With Antoinette in the middle of the store, the effect of the fripperies
was multiplied tenfold, a hundredfold . They burned me, they set me
on fire with pleasure and joy. I was intoxicated. Antoinette must
have been getting worried when she sawall the money she'd brought
for quite different things melt away in purchases of women's clothes
and underwear. But it was especially my state of excitement that
panicked her. Though it was a little her fault, after all. Her presence
in flesh and blood illuminated the displays . The slips, the panty hose,
the stockings , the panties, the chemisettes, all those little orphaned
objects were crying out to her. I heard them . I could hear nothing
else. I had to obey. I obeyed . I bought, and bought, and in less than
two hours we didn't have a sou left, we were cleaned out, me and
Antoinette both . But covered in packages, pyramids of packages.
My Antoinette was
not
pleased . But I was floating on air , like in a
dream. And that was how, her beefing, me floating, we made our
way to the metro.
We went down the stairs and then, with all our packages , we
found ourselves semiwedged in the swing gates. We maneuvered
ourselves back and forth, like railroads. At this point a little woman
slid between us, saying "Excuse me! Thank you!" And pm she was
through. Only, there was the draft. A ferocious draft was sweeping
through the half-opened gates .
It
hoisted up the girl's miniskirt and
held it there for a moment, even though she quickly clamped both
hands down on her thighs . But in that split second, I had seen a
garter belt, and what a garter belt, that burned me, that pierced me,
that practically killed me, yes. In black nylon, gathered, wide, the
white skin of her thighs contrasting sharply with the long, very long
garters which started at the belt and traveled down to collect her
stockings in their little chromium-plated clips. It reminded me of a
greasy pole, or rather of the sort of hoop around the top of a greasy
pole with sausages and hams hanging from it. I had to have that
garter belt to crown this memorable day! I shoved all my packages
into Antoinette's arms. I told her, "Wait for me , I'll be right back!"
And I abandoned her there, in the drafts , too flabbergasted to protest.
And I scooted! I chased after the girl. I caught up to her and wedged
her into a corner. Luckily we were alone. I stammered, "Your garter
belt, your garter belt, quick, quick!" At first she didn't understand.
Then , without hesitating, I pulled up her skirt. She screamed . I re–
peated , "Quick, your garter belt, and I'll go away." Finally, she
obeyed . In the twinkling of an eye, it was done. I had my trophy . I
said , "Thank you," and ran back to Antoinette, who was still jug-
