A ball of tenderness E-Book

Gérard Cavanna

• Herausgeber: Le Lys Bleu Éditions
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 211

Beschreibung

Emotions experienced between a master and his favorite animal are at the heart of this Tour de France of regions. It is the unconditional love of an animal, this living being which throws you a look full of tenderness despite all your faults, your mood swings, which makes that one day you pet it and another time you send ball in a corner. Nonetheless, your honey ball comes back towards you, wagging its little tail with eyes full of tears, wondering what could be causing this fury, and that it could be his fault! But fear not, you can martyr him, cuddle him, ignore him, he is your companion, your friend, he will forgive you everything and will come back to you, full of love and gentleness, begging only for caresses and cuddling.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Gérard Cavanna worked in an aeronautical company during the first part of his life. At the age of thirty, he became his own boss and created and managed several businesses including a computer store and several restaurants. He wrote his first novel Maman s’en est allée in 2017. His second novel Le prédateur was published in 2018. Then its third opus in early 2019 L’ombre du copy-cat is the continuation of the predator. The fourth novel Insurrection sur la Ve république was published in 2019. Une boule de tendresse is his fifth novel.

Leseprobe

Gérard Cavanna

A ball of tenderness

Novel

© Lys Bleu Éditions – Gérard Cavanna

ISBN : 979-10-377-4304-6

The Intellectual Property Code authorizes under paragraphs 2and 3 of Article L.122-5, on the one hand, that the copies orreproductionsstrictly reserved for the private use of thecopyist and not intended for collective use, and, subject to thename of the author and the source, only analyses and shortquotationsjustifiedbythecritical,polemic,educational,scientificorinformationalnature,anyrepresentationorreproduction in whole or in part, made without the consent oftheauthororhislegalsuccessorsorassigns,isunlawful(article L.122-4). This representation or reproduction, by anymeanswhatsoever,wouldthereforeconstituteaninfringementsanctionedbyarticlesL.335-2andfollowingoftheIntellectualPropertyCode.

Traduction : Koffi Anselme Kouadio

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Foreword

The love and joy felt between a master and his favorite animal are at the heart of this French regional tour.

It is the unconditional love of an animal, this living being who gives you a look full of tenderness despite all your faults, your mood swings, which makes that one day you caress him and another time you send him to the corner.

Nevertheless, your honey ball corner back to you, wagging his little tail with tears in his eyes wondering what could have caused this fury, and what could be his fault!

But don't worry, you can torture him, cuddle him, ignore him, he is your companion, your friend, he will forgive you everything and will come back to you, full of love and sweetness, begging only for caresses and cuddles.

Chapter I

Julius, the Jack Russell

The Ushuaïa studios on the Quai du Point du Jour in Boulogne, a town in the Hauts-de-Seine, buzzed like a beehive, on this Monday in January 2015. Journalist Alex Callagan, specialized in animal reports, was convened by the great chief Christophe.

— Here is Alex, do an investigation on the relationship between a pet and its owner, in various regions in France. The passion that the French have with their dogs and cats deserves that we take an interest in them.

Give me something concrete, love, loyalty, all the sensations we can feel in front of our four-legged friends.

Alex grated in his beard, as usual he had to first look for a cheap hotel in the area where he had decided to start his investigations. The fixed daily rate that he had been given imposed him certain restrictions.

The Hauts-de-France was perfect for his first investigation, the hospitality of the people of the north was world-renowned, and Alex, passing through the area of Lille and Béthune, often saw animals running free in the streets. Edmée de Xhavée wrote "who loves the animals, loves the peoples" an old adage that ideally suits this population. He decided to put down his roots in the Novotel Lens Noyelles located three kilometers from Hénin- Beaumont.

A light rain of January soaked the pavement of this commune of the Pas de Calais in the Haut-de-France. Hénin-Beaumont woke up slowly on this Sunday morning. There was a time when the bells of the town hall rang every quarter of an hour, reminding a local song written during the Great War.

Now the domes of the town hall are quite silent and overhang the large Jean Jaurès square, where a few people stroll with their noses to the ground, pressing their steps.

A few streets away, the people of Hénin, wrapped in their coats, hurried past the Sainte-Marie church, unaware of the little drama taking place on the square in front of the Catholic building.

Jean, a homeless man known to the parishioners and lying on cardboard boxes on the ground in front of the big oak and wrought iron door, was giving birth to his little Jack Russell dog.

Luc, the local priest, was concerned about the repeated knocks on the big door of the church. He was finishing studying his next Sunday sermon that he was going to preach in front of his flock and, incensed, he wondered who was the olibrius who was disturbing him at this hour of the morning.

— My lord, my lord, hurry Marie my little dog has just had two adorable puppies and there is a lot of blood. What should I do? What will happen to my little Marie?

— Jean, I have already told you that we are not in the seventeenth century, and that the church no longer takes in the homeless.

Well, you are going to get in and have a bowl of soup and we are going to see what we can do.

The Veterinary Clinic on Schweitzer Boulevard had just opened its doors for a weekend shift. Dr. Maryse Sembor was immersed in the week's invoices when the phone rang and disturbed her calculations

— Yes, this is Dr. Sembor, can I help you? Ah, it is you, Father. One of your parishioners is having trouble with his favorite animal.

— Yes Maryse, you are a beautiful person and you will be thanked for your kindness to my needy, be sure. But right now, I have a poor man named Jean to whom I sometimes provide a bed in my church. He has a Jack Russell dog who has just given birth to two puppies. Could you take him and his little family under your wing?

Maryse, a good Catholic, answered affirmatively:

— Bring-them-to-me!

In one of the streets adjacent to the Veterinary Clinic stood a small building housing a single-parent family, Sandra Nicoll, a courageous mother, and her disabled son Enzo, stuck in his wheelchair.

The neighbors of Melusine Street knew well the little man stuck in his chair and his mother pushing him boldly on the broken sidewalks of the old city.

Because the little Enzo was in his period of revolt, towards his mother and the society, because he did not manage to express what he felt neither by the word, nor by the gestures, because his universe was fragmented by small unsatisfied needs, by tantrums followed by apathy, because his mother, from as far back as she can remember, her love for him was different from other children. The doctors, after examining his case, made this terrible revelation: your son is autistic!

Sandra's husband could not bear the handicap of his baby and fled to the other side of the world, without regret, in a pitiful attitude.

Enzo knew how to walk but sometimes, and especially today, he had decided that his legs would not carry him, and it was up to his mother to take care of it. The rain had stopped and a pale sun was trying to pierce the layer of cumulonimbus clouds falling on the city of Hénin. Enzo was celebrating his tenth birthday on this first day of January.

Ten years of deprivation and abnegation for Sandra, but also ten years of joy and happiness at each moment of progress on the walk, the gestures of intelligence, the first words not stammered, the first sensible glimmers of understanding.

Yesterday, Simone Delfond, the social worker, made her weekly visit and wondered about Enzo's regression, who had not wanted to meet her for two weeks. They had established a certain connivance that had abruptly ended, without any reason.

On the eve of his birthday, Enzo had gone into a frightful rage. Sandra and Simone had talked about it for a long time and they had come to the conclusion that maybe he wanted to share his party with friends.

Easier said than done, Enzo often threw terrible tantrums that intimidated and scared away many of the kids.

— Why don't you find him a four-legged friend? Animal-assisted therapy or zootherapy refers to the set of non-conventional therapeutic methods that use the proximity of a domestic animal or pet to help a person suffering from disorders caused by his or her illness and to reduce stress, says Simone.

— That's a great idea, said Sandra, I will start looking for a puppy or kitten tomorrow.

Two weeks had passed and Sandra and Enzo had scoured the local kennels without finding the right one for their son. The cats were too independent and seemed suspicious of Enzo's autism, and the dogs were not to the kid's liking.

Two months had passed, but no animals had come into their lives, and their lives had resumed in fits and starts. As a good Catholic, Sandra asked Enzo:

— Since midnight mass on Christmas Eve, we haven't attended Father Luke's sermons. We will be going to church this Sunday, my darling, I hope that's okay?

When they arrived on the square of the church Sainte-Marie, the eternal trio of bigots were happily talking about the latest gossip of the neighborhood, Sandra pushing a grumbling and bad-tempered Enzo. Jean the homeless man was sitting on his cardboard boxes and begging for money, at the goodwill of the people entering. Marie, his little Russell dog, was playing with her two puppies, and at a sign from Jean, she came back to curl up between her master's legs, followed by one of her puppies. The second one shot up like an arrow, zigzagging among the parishioners, and came to lick Enzo's hand, which was hanging nonchalantly from his armchair.

Sandra, who had just blocked the wheels of the wheelchair in the place dedicated to the disabled, was surprised at first and then delighted to see her Enzo who had just found his companion

The puppy's mischievous little face and his little tail trembling with excitement filled the boy with wonder. The puppy jumped on his lap as if he had understood the complicity between them.

Jean, who had just entered in search of the little dog, had tears in his eyes to see the happiness that emanated from these two beings who seemed to have been born to meet.

— I don't remember having seen this kind of encounter in my life... Excuse me my God for having blasphemed (and he signs himself) but I do not believe that my Julius; it is the name of my small dog, could find a better master!

Chapter II

Fripouille, the Australian shepherd

Alex had just left the Novotel in Hénin-Beaumont and remembered the different characters who had started his investigation, the priest Luc had helped him to dust off the story of the young autistic boy Enzo.

Brittany would be his second anchorage point. He put down his bags in a hotel relay, Le Bigouden in Guilvinec.

At the other end of France, in the department of Pyrénées- Orientales, a storm warning was broadcast on local radio stations, France Bleu Roussillon on 101.6 MHz.

"Red alert - Violent wind".

With its one hundred and thirty-six days of tramontana in the year and peak winds of one hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, Perpignan knows the risks inherent in the sudden outbursts of the god Aeolus, and knows how to protect itself, by inviting the people of Perpignan to take shelter.

In the premises of the SPA shelter, the staff was calming down the most sensitive animals. It was a visiting day, so some families discovered the cats and dogs in their prison universe. The cages were very airy and spacious enough for the well-being of the animals waiting to find a place in their future family.

A couple of Bretons, Erwan and Gwenaëlle Briec, tried to please their little girl Gaëlle, by taking her to see "four-legged plushies" as she defined them so well. Originally from Guilvinec, a small coastal town in Finistère, the Briec family was known and appreciated by all. Gwenaëlle was a teacher in the kindergarten of the rue du Château and Erwan lived from his music, animating weekend dances in the region's balls. They were not rich, but a baby of love had entered their home, a little more than eleven years ago, in this wonderful little girl, Gaëlle.

Erwan adored his daughter and always began his repertoire of songs with a tribute to Gaëlle

"When you arrived All the angels were singing I gave you your very first kiss You will give me

And you'll probably give me your last."1

All three of them had their lives figured out like clockwork, until that awkward time when the dark clouds seemed to gather on their heads.

It started with heat, fatigue, loss of appetite, abdominal pain and repeated vomiting, until the appalling diagnosis "your daughter has cancer.

When they named the cancer "leukemia", the doctors explained that the normal blood cells in their daughter's bone marrow was replaced by cancer cells. The symptoms of the disease included anemia, a decrease in leukocytes and platelets.

The Briecs scoured the hospitals in Brittany in search of the best practitioners to treat their Gaëlle's leukemia.

They stopped at the University Hospital of Rennes specialized in this type of cancer.

The first six months of chemotherapy were hellish for their daughter. Like a good soldier, she was led into the therapy rooms, where she was showered with serums, chemo sessions, and advice that was either useless or helpful, depending on what she said.

The first hair loss was terrible for a preteen conscious of her emerging femininity.

Once again she decided to put her hair down "Kojak style" and wear a bandana.

One evening when she was vomiting her guts, Erwan found her diary, hidden under her pillow

"I have just seen my parents crying their eyes out, and heard them mortgage their small house to pay for my medical care, I would like to die and not endure the suffering this disease" inflicts on me anymore.

Erwan gently put his daughter's precious treasure back in its place, more convinced than ever to care for his child.

During a period of intensive care at the University Hospital of Rennes, Erwan came across a ten year old boy with a puppy in his arms, with a smooth head and no hair, in the corridors of the children's cancer ward. The child opened his big hazel eyes and started a conversation:

— Hello sir, my name is Gaz, short for Gaspard, I can see from your colored bracelet that you have come to see a sick child?

— Yes, I accompany my daughter Gaëlle,

— Ah the little leukemia girl, I love her, we often talk about our dark future, I have this kind of disease myself, and we got closer to compare our results. Apparently, her leukemia is less aggressive than mine, and she should be out on leave soon.

"On leave?″

— Yes, when we have a period of remission, the doctors let us take a few days of freedom with our family, it's a bit like in the army; if we are kind and don't make any trouble, we get a leave.

— And tell me Gaz, what is this cute little dog?

— He is an Australian shepherd, his eyes are of different colors which makes him rare. But don't think I chose him, he adopted me.

I was walking with my parents in a kennel for abandoned animals, when I stopped in front of a cage where there were several puppies of the same breed.

Fripouille, that's the name he agreed, I offered him several and he selected this one. So he was in his corner and did not move. My parents knew that I had wanted a dog of this breed for some time, when the door of the cage was opened, all the other little Australian shepherds went back to the back as if they were listening to an order coming from somewhere else and Fripouille turned around and looked me straight in the eyes and I assure you, I thought I saw a blissful smile on his lips.

He stood up awkwardly on his paws, waddled over to me and jumped into my arms. Burying his muzzle in my neck, he licked me as if he was experiencing a supreme nirvana.

Since then, he is my little companion and he doesn't leave me for a second.

Gaëlle is too fragile now, but you should find her a little animal to keep her company.

Erwan went to Gaëlle's room and found his wife Gwenaëlle who had taken a year off to take care of their little girl.

Gaëlle was connected by pipes to a chemotherapy system, it was her last session and she had to leave the hospital for a short week of parental leave.

Erwan took his wife aside and asked about the conversation he had had with Gaz. They were going to spend this week looking for a companion for their beloved Gaëlle.

It had been a week that the Briec family was prospecting the SPA shelters of the Atlantic coast, without Gaëlle being enthusiastic about a small animal.

— Mom, dad, when I see Gaz and Fripouille, their complicity, their love, I am afraid I will never acquire this wonderful symbiosis.

— Don't lose hope my dear, says Gwenaëlle, there are so many animals waiting for a master, we will end up finding your happiness.

Outside the elements were raging, the swirling winds were blowing the windsocks of the nearby Perpignan airport. The windows of the kennel were vibrating, and the clouds were spinning towards the west, as if pushed by an unspeakable fear.

Standing in a waiting room, Gaëlle was going over dark thoughts. She had been twice around the cages without detecting the crush that Gaz had suggested to her.

They had met by chance and had never left each other. The doctors had finally moved Gaz and placed him in Gaëlle's room. Even the social workers, reluctant at first, had finally admitted that this promiscuity could be beneficial for the children.

When Gaëlle had left Gaspard the week before, he had promised her that she would find her future companion sooner than she had hoped.

She had left with her heart full of optimism, and now she missed Gaspard, her friend.

She was lost in her thoughts, when the revolving door of the room opened on these two parents in tears:

— Your friend Gaspard has just died, my dear, we must go back to Rennes.

— NO, she cried, not him!

The return trip in the car rented by his parents was very painful and trying. The joy they felt at the beginning of their quest had been eradicated by this terrible news.

Erwan and Gwenaëlle were completely devastated, and wondered how Gaëlle would react to Gaspard's corpse. The doctors had warned them that a regression could occur and wipe out all the benefits of the current chemo.

In this mood, they entered the CHU of Rennes completely mortified. Gaspard's parents were waiting for them and they fell into their arms in total collapse.

— My dear, said Gaspard's father, addressing Gaëlle, our son had warned us of his imminent departure, as if he wanted our acceptance that he was leaving. Our little guy had a huge heart and courage. He knew long before the doctors that he was going to join his grandparents, and it was he who comforted us.

There is also something that N must know Gaëlle, our son bequeaths you his little friend Fripouille. Gaz told me that it was Fripouille who asked him for this favor.

I don't know if this puppy will accept you, as he was very attached to Gaz.

Our son also asked me to let you into his room alone, do you think you can do that? She nodded after looking at her parents and went in to join her friend.

Gaspard seemed to be sleeping in his little white bed, with many flowers scattered around his coffin. On a chair in a basket, a little ball of fur seemed to be sleeping.

Animated by who knows what instinct, Fripouille looked up and saw Gaëlle, he jumped from his basket onto Gaz's corpse, went to lick his lips, seeming to say goodbye to him and with a pirouette rushed into Gaëlle's arms.

Erwan and Gwenaëlle in the corridor, were comforting Gaz's parents as best they could.

The four of them were wondering what Gaëlle would experience at the sight of her friend Gaz and about the continuation of his illness.

The door of the burial chamber opened and Gaëlle came towards them, Fripouille in her arms

— It is extraordinary, the room is filled with my friend Gaspard. I felt vibrations that made me shiver, as if he was talking to me. He suggested me not to worry about him, because he has passed into a heavenly world without pain, that he has joined his grandfather and soon his grandmother. And above all, to project into the future, a little brother or sister that I could contemplate from my cloud, in order to send you all three all my love.

Chapter III

Mélodie, the She-cat

Alex finished writing his Breton trip with tears in his eyes, he hoped to translate the melodrama he had just experienced with Gaëlle.

His next trip would take him to the east of France, to the Campanile de Bressey-sur-Tille near Dijon.

In this particularly rainy month of January, the town of Bressey-sur-Tille in the Cote d'Or department was under water.

— The city was a victim of the overflow of the Gourmerault, a tributary of the Tille which is overloaded, explained Patrick Moineau the mayor.

Many Bresseyliens used to go to their homes by boat, escorted by firemen. The last flood was in 2013 but was nothing like it, the damage is likely to be in the thousands of euros. Never before in thirty years!

The Rateau family, father Yvan, mother Cyndie and their son Sam, had already returned to their home in the lower part of Bressey, wrapped in life jackets and grouped in a fishing boat lent by the town hall.

— I wonder in what condition we will find our pavilion today, wondered Yvan

— It was a nightmare night, remember the garage was flooded to a height of five feet, the car was completely submerged, continued Cyndie.

— I remember an inky black sky with lightning bolts, I've never been so scared in my life, says Sam.

Luckily the town hall lent us a gym where we were dry, we could sleep on cots and we met up with the neighbors and my friends. It was great, it reminded me of camping in Baule!

— Yes, mumbled Yvan, don't think you're going to be on vacation, if the schools are closed, your mother will make you revise your homework.

— Pffff!

— Fortunately the river started to flow back. We arrive, hold you well we are going to accost and to benefit from the last hours of clearness to throw a glance on the damage of water, worried Cyndie. We took flashlights because, there is no electricity.

In single file, they opened the front door of their home, which, swollen with moisture, creaked with an ominous sound.

The elevation of their home had prevented the interior from flooding, and the place looked dry. Except for a lingering smell of miasma and mud in the air, one could assume that their home had escaped the worst.

A cathedral-like silence reigned in the place quickly broken by Sam's little voice

— Mom, I'm hungry!

— Listen, you both interrupted Yvan, we must first check if there was no damage and theft by marauders, as the city hall specified!

You Sam you look if your PlayStation is still in your room, ha ha, he said laughing, Cyndie and I will take a look at the important things.

Sam went up to his room, where nothing had moved, suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. A strange noise was coming from the attic. He could hear the comforting voices of his parents coming from the first floor, and above his head in the attics, sliding and objects seemed to move on the floor.

He went down the stairs to the living room four by four and called out to his father

— Dad, there's someone rummaging in the attic, I have heard a noise!

— Name of name, I had left the skylight slightly open to eliminate the odors, admitted Cyndie.

— Well, I am taking my baseball bat and I am going to take care of their fate, Yvan said!

They went down the retractable staircase leading under the roof and Yvan climbed carefully the last steps, before resting on the joists of the attic.

It was dark as in an oven, or as in the pig's asshole as his grandmother used to say.

The place was cluttered with folding chairs, garden equipment and no sign of a human being where he could have hidden.

He made a 360º with his powerful lamp and aimed at a corner where there was movement.