90
PARTISAN IliVIEW
Youthful eyes, mirrors shimmering with the reflection of leaves still moist
with dew. The teacher's hand seemed lifeless; he didn't catch his com–
panion's mood.
A munnur ran through the foliage, then stillness hovered briefly over
the park. But right away the railroad worker's brass band boomed a
military march. A tall , very thin man with a large mustache got up on
the improvised podium. He spoke of the war, of suffering in the camps,
of peace, of retribution, justice, labor.
Behind the stage the small hero waited his turn. He was to speak
right after the officer, before the woman. His cousin's hand, forgotten
on the crown of his head , suddenly propelled him in front of the crowd.
They lifted him up and stood him up on a chair. The crowd's ex–
citement grew. Then they abandoned him in front of the seething
multitude. He was not afraid that he would forget the order of the
words or the proper intonation. He was terrified that the chair might
Gil him, that it would overturn and pitch him forward into the pit.
They were waiting for him in total silence. He felt their eagerness,
their ravenous hunger. Pulling himself together, he met them head-on.
"We, who haven't known the meaning of childhood, nourished
by
cold and fear, under the mantle of war, we turn, today ... "
He didn't see their veiled eyes, their tears. Applause, bravos - he ral–
lied, haggard and drained.
Behind the podium the cousin accepted congratulations. His embar–
rassed face indicated that the speech had lived up to his expectations, irs
success was deserved . As for the little actor, he was passed from the arms
of one relative to another, then to the acquaintances. The avalanche of
embraces wore him out. The solicitude with which he was treated re–
lieved him. They kept asking him, again and again, if they could get
him
anything, if he wanted anything, their words and gestures hesitant, as if
they were afraid to hurt his feelings.
For a long while afterward the hero could still feel the crown of
laurels on his head. Numerous privileges that he now enjoyed reminded
him of his triumph.
His cousin, the teacher, now consented to become the comrade he
had been in the past. He sought other outlets for his intransigence and
zeal. He thought that, surely, the boy would have forgotten the harsh–
ness with which he had treated him; after all, experiences of that sort
served to build character. They started going on long evening walks
again and having many conversations. Everything could be just as before.
Still, ostensibly the event was not forgotten. They recalled it at every
opportunity. Indeed, they seemed to look for opportunities to bring it
up , and each time they found one they seemed to become more and
more familiar with the great event, they even started to act proprietary
