The Black Onyx Pact (9 page)

«I should go now. Please keep me informed about your friend.»

Just after Sibylle is out of the building she stops to lean against the wall, closing her eyes. The idea of never seeing Drakkar again distresses her deeply. Then she smiles sadly.

“
Why do I feel so bad? What did I expect from a sexual encounter? I'm just an immature that gets attached too easily, I'm an idiot incapable of managing her own emotions. Come on, Sibylle, you don't need anyone to be happy
”.

She takes a deep and slow breath and starts walking towards the metro, looking at all the people on both sides of the road. She does this since childhood: she looks at people and tries to guess who they could be, what their names are, what job they do, if they have strange sexual inclinations or what bizarre personality they are hiding. She imagines them in different situations, imagines to paint them. There, the big man whom is approaching, that would be a perfect subject for one of her portraits. She imagines him dressed in an ancient armor or a medieval uniform, maybe on a horse, head of an army. She smiles at that thought. She also does that often: smiling. Her thoughts are the only thing that makes her feel well. She can create entire worlds in her mind, where she can live as the only lady of that dimension in which everything is possible. She is distracted from her thinking by the ring of her phone.

«Hello?» answer her sweet voice.

«Sibylle, how are you?» asks a male voice.

Sibylle stops, turns pale, opens her mouth to speak but she realizes she can't.

«Sibylle?»

«Claude!» she exclaims.

Oh, what a nice surprise! She must be careful not to say anything wrong.

«Claude, I'm so happy to hear your voice! How are you? How are you doing?»

On the other side of the phone, Claude sobs once.

«Sibylle, my mother died.»

Sibylle goes to sit on a bench.

«Oh,
juste ciel!
Claude, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, honey, I would like to
—
I would like to be there with you, to hold you tight. I wish I could make you feel my affection. You shouldn't be alone at this time, would you like to meet me just for a chat?»

«No. I just needed to talk to someone who could understand my sorrow.» he confides, referring to the fact that Sibylle has lost her mother five years before.

«Of course, Claude, you did well. I'm happy and honored you called me, what I'd give to be there with you, honey!»

«Thank you, I feel your warmth. Thank you.»

«When will be the funeral?»

«It doesn't matter, I don't want you to come.»

Sibylle remains silent, and Claude adds with a firmer voice:

«My mother never liked you and she would never have wanted you at her funeral, and I want to respect her wish. You should have seen her face when I told her we were divorcing. She rejoiced! I spent these last few months with her and she was unrecognizable. She was cheerful, kind, she was really glad to have me back all for her. At the end we made a good thing with that divorce, not just for us but for others too.»

Sibylle frowns, not knowing whether to be more offended or more derided.

«I understand. I won't come then, if that's what you want, but I would like to see you as a friend. I would like to
—
»

«To what?»

Here comes the usual Claude again. The Claude whom doesn't even lets her finish the sentence.

«Sibylle, I just called to give you the news, nothing else. Bye.»

«Claude, wait, please! Claude, Claude
—
»

He has already hung up. She puts away the phone holding the forehead with her hand, feeling alone, abandoned. She stays in that position for a long time. Alone. She is alone again. She search the phone and takes a deep breath before dialing a number. A man answers and she cannot speak before the third “
Hello
” of the man.

«Dad?»

Now there is silence on the other side. Sibylle closes her eyes, to drive back the tears.

«Please, don't hang up.» she murmurs.

«So, you called me at last. When I heard that you were divorcing with that bastard I waited for you to come back to me, I waited for weeks, for months. Seven months, to be precise.» he says harshly.

«Forgive me, I did want to come but I lacked the courage.»

Guillaume makes a noise of irritation with his mouth.
«Look, Sisi, I'm happy that you get rid of that asshole. I know isn't a nice thing to say, divorce is a painful experience and I'm sorry to know you suffered, but I'm fucking happy! There I said it! But I don't see the reason why you should call me now. If you have been fine without me for seven months – which surely have been the most painful of your life – why you are calling me now?»
Sibylle sobs, crying in silence, feeling an unbearable shame.

«Because I miss you, Dad. I'm sorry for how I acted.»

The father makes another impatient noise with his mouth.

«Do you really want to apologize to me, Sisi? Well, then come here to the mechanical workshop and have the courage to look into my eyes and tell me everything you need to tell! Have the courage to face me! Until I have you in front of me I won't believe your apologies!»

And he hangs up too. Sibylle slowly puts the phone in her bag and think about it, pondering; then runs to the metro.

Yes, she will go to face him! She is ready to meet him, to meet the sole faithful man in a woman's life, the only man who can forgive: a father.

Guillaume is in the huge mechanical workshop founded by his grandfather nearly a century before. The man works in the enormous local directing and teaching at many people, men and women. He is a man with salt and pepper hair and emerald eyes, like his daughter. He is still very attractive in spite of his sixty years, and he really is a strong and active man. He is also a father to those who work for him. Yes, he has been able to be a father for all, except for his own daughter. He always had a fight with her because of Claude. He never liked how the man treated her, and when Claude put her in front of the cruel decision between her husband or her father she had obviously chosen her husband. Guillaume didn't see her ever since. He knows that Sibylle is a good person, as she has always been. As a child she was so docile to inspire tenderness to anyone.

«Guillaume?» calls a young man behind him.

He turns and looks at the boy who point at the entrance with his chin: in the parking lot outside there is Sibylle waiting for him, twisting her hands visibly uncomfortable. Guillaume startles: she really came! He heads out and when she sees him approaching, she looks away. The man stops in front of her: he is tall and imposing while she is small and delicate, like her mother.

Sibylle extends a shaky hand and hands him a piece of paper folded in half. He shakes his head, he knew it! She used to do that since she was a child. When she didn't have the courage to speak, she wrote what she wanted to say. The man opens the paper and stares at what's inside, while his daughter watches him attentively, studying his reaction. The man bites his lower lip, as he always does when he is pensive, then crumples the paper and throws it to the ground. Sibylle retreats one step, ready to leave. But when the man looks at her, his eyes have a compassionate light. He is seeing in her the frightened little girl who was afraid of him when she did something wrong. The man reaches out a hand to touches her face.

«You miss daddy?»

Sibylle nods, holding her tears. He tilts his head to the side, looking at her with tenderness.

«You feel ashamed for what you did, don't you?»

She nods again, pressing her lips to hold back the tears.
«And you want me to forgive you, right?»
She swallows a sob and nods again, with her lips trembling and her eye full of tears. He makes a tender smile that shows clearly from whom she got that beautiful expression.

«Come here.» he whispers drawing her to him.

Sibylle hugs him desperately.

«Dad!» she cries.

«I'm here, baby, I'm here. I've always been here, Sisi. Dad is always there, even after you kick him out of your life, he never really goes away.»

She snuggles against her father's chest. Held in his strong arms, Sibylle can enjoy the warmth of reconciliation and the sweet taste of forgiveness. She now feels safe, at home. The man closes his eyes and leans over to kiss her head, he also enjoys the warmth of his sweet daughter, her love, her tenderness.

He missed her so much! Her lovely Sibylle. He sinks his big hands in her black waves and squeezes hard, feeling deeply in peace. Now everything is as it should be, he feels complete, he feels alive. He is a father again.

The breeze rolls off the crumpled piece of paper on which Sibylle had not written anything, but where she made a drawing: a man hugging his daughter.

~

That afternoon, Sibylle is heading at the Galerie d'Art Sibylle to finish the preparations for the exhibition of
18
th
of May. She is dressed in a beautiful pink chiffon knee length empire dress, studded with clear crystals. She is driving her colorful and opalescent
deux chevaux
with the car top down, so that she can enjoy the beautiful Spring sun, along the
Avenue de
l'Hippodrome
. The trees on both sides of the road give a touch of calm to her thoughts, the sun's rays are pleasantly caressing her face and all around. She turns on the radio and rejoices happily when she hears a melodic electronic music.
«Woo Hoo!»
She turns up the volume and starts swaying on her seat, moving madly her upper body, clapping her hands rhythmically. She stops the car because the traffic light turned red, continuing to move her arms and shoulders totally absorbed in the music that she loves so much, that gives her shivers of energy, which inspires her even in painting. She doesn't notice immediately the stunning black sport motorbike which stops next to her car. The majestic man that mounts it is dressed in a black bike pants, gloves and boots, and a sport leather jacket. He crosses his arms and puts the feet on the ground, waiting for the green light, but mostly staring at her swaying in her seat. He seems really interested in her. His black helmet doesn't allow to see his face, not even a reflection of it. Who knows if he is smiling seeing the young woman dancing in that way?
Sibylle has her eyes closed, her lips tight and her body moving sinuously when she feels observed; she turns her head and sees that impressive man staring at her. She stops immediately and smiles shyly, feeling embarrassed. The man doesn't move a muscle and she begins to feel a strange feeling inside. A moment later he does something that shocks her: he points his index at her then closes his fist beating it on his chest twice. Drakkar!
The traffic light turns green and he leaves with a deafening roar, disappearing on the horizon in a few seconds. Sibylle doesn't move, lost in her astonishment. Behind her some cars honk impatiently, but she ignores them. A black car surpasses her and stops next to her car. It's a distinguished lady on her fifties, with a beautiful bob cut on her brownish hair.

«Excuse me,
madame
, are you stupid?» she asks kindly, strangely not offensive as if she was really asking her seriously.

«No, I'm stunned! I just saw my lover!» explains Sibylle as she were speaking with an old friend. «He is a biker!»

The lady in the black car raises her eyebrows and smiles mischievously.

«Mmmm, sexy.»

Sibylle nods vigorously.

«I don't even know his name and I've never seen his face. I know nothing of him, I just know that when I'm with him
—
», she stops and sighs with dreamy eyes.

The other woman shakes her head.

«Yeah, sure, a “lover”. Pfff, look at you! Come on, my dear, that man is something else.»

Sibylle smiles sadly.

«No, he is not. He is a man with whom I shared something profound, but he decided not to see me again.»

The lady looks on the horizon.

«Is that so? Then why he seems waiting for you?»
She starts laughing and leaves, honking to greet her. Sibylle looks into the distance and sees the man in his wonderful black motorbike standing on the side of the road. Her mouth opens in amazement. The man is waiting, looking in the side mirror, and when he sees her driving to him, he enters a small side road in the woods there, disappearing in the vegetation. When she arrives where he was she parks the car and get off, following the path which leads in the wood. She hears the rumble of the motorbike and realizes that he is in there somewhere; the rumbles stops and she understand that he shut off the engine. She walks among the trees, feeling the heart beating harder. There he is! Sitting on his huge black motorbike, with his feet on the ground and his arms crossed, looking at her. Sibylle stops, feeling her hands shaking.

“
He is awesome...
”, she thinks.
Drakkar looks at her and clenches his jaws: that dreamy dress, that silky hair, that lovely face...
“
She is magnificent...
”, he thinks.