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“What right do you have to be hungry? Are you trying to foment rebellion?”

“Music!” another voice ordered the orchestra.

And as the musicians attacked a new merengue, the men took aim and riddled him with bullets.

No one in the anxious crowd dared move another muscle. A fanfare sounded and smothered the orchestra once more; the flag rose, the boots regrouped. The monks untied the man’s body and placed it atop a pile of others in a truck driven by an undertaker in a black uniform. The monks motioned wildly as they returned, trying to restore the peaceful and cheerful atmosphere that had been decidedly broken by the arrival of the men in uniform.

“The fair’s not over, the fair’s not over,” they shouted, rolling up their robes and striding briskly around the square.

Paul squeezed Anna Valois’ hand tightly. He felt her trembling.

“You want to go?”

“Yes.”

He led her away, but a few steps later, they bumped into Fred Morin, who raised his glass and said: “Let’s party! Let’s drink to happiness!” They were immediately surrounded by a group of young people.

“Let’s go, Paul,” Anna begged.

“Why? What’s the matter? The party’s just started,” Fred exclaimed.

He seemed drunk and the fun-loving smile flickering on his lips could not erase the expression of fear dilating his eyes.

Paul took Anna’s hand to leave with her but the circle of young men blocked his path.

“You’re not about to ditch your friends,” a player on his team protested. “You’ve abandoned us and here we are glad to be with you.”

There was nothing natural about their words and gestures. They looked like bad actors suddenly pushed onstage and asked to perform a difficult role.

Involuntarily, they kept turning their heads in the same direction. Paul followed their gaze. He was startled to see Rose talking to a man in a black uniform sitting in the backseat of a car, the driver impossible to make out save for a patch of hair. The man in uniform leaned over, opened the door and Rose got in next to him as the car took off. Paul wanted to run after it, but his teammates blocked his path a second time.

“Leave me alone,” he yelled.

“Don’t do anything crazy,” the youngest on the team, who was only sixteen, advised him.

His hand fell on Paul’s shoulder and his nails slowly dug into his flesh.

“Don’t tell us you didn’t know,” Fred Morin said to him, forcing an increasingly false smile.

“Didn’t know what?”

“All right,” said another. “If you don’t feel like talking about it, that’s your business. But let’s set up our next practice. You’re our best player and we want to keep you.”

“Just like that, huh!” Paul answered, staring at them angrily. “I’d give anything to know why you’ve changed your mind. Eight days ago, I got the distinct feeling I was somewhat undesirable. Is it because my sister got into that car … you think that …”

“Lucky man,” Fred Morin said to him as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

He freed himself with a shrug and looked at Anna. She lowered her head. So then, she agreed with them. Or did she avert her eyes to spare his feelings? He fought off the desire to lay into them with blows and curses. He looked again at Anna and took off running. For a long time, he walked aimlessly through the city and only went home at nightfall. He found everyone in the living room except for Rose. He didn’t utter a word, but when she came back an hour later, he got up to meet her:

“Harlot!” he spat in her face. “I saw you!”

She turned to him with a face that was serene, almost wooden.

“You saw me, did you, so what? Is that how you thank me for trying so hard to save this land despite being afraid?”

And she started playing out the scene.

“He says to me, ‘Get in, Mademoiselle, so glad I ran into you, I’ll take you to the lawyer myself. He’s an old nutcase who gets strange ideas in his head, refused to take the money from your father, I know, because he wanted to see you again. He lost a daughter your age and you remind him of her.’ So he really did give me a ride to the lawyer’s, who promised that everything would be settled