Max walked between the rows of desks, tables of two, one behind the other, facing the white board. It was a typical university class here in France, but very different from what he had known, in Dubai or the United States.
His final year students were doing a vocabulary test and Max was trying to play his role as a teacher and prevent them from cheating.
He looked at them while reflecting on the subject that Danielle had brought up last time they met: creating a portrait of a student ... but which one to choose?
His choice came down to two of his students. One had two years of catching up to do and who, having given up having a backpack and textbooks, stretched his long legs under the table and, thus slumped in his chair, waiting for time to pass.
the other, a cute girl with shaved eyebrows and nails painted in purple, who wrote everything said by emphasizing the titles in color and drawing a circle on her i's instead of the points... Yes, he decided, it would be her, Delphine, her little fresh face, her round eyes and her terrible French accent when she risked a sentence in English.
He knew her mother, he had seen her at the parent-teacher meeting: a very nice woman, her hands clasped on her bag, short hair, no jewelry and no make-up. The girl, on the other hand, loved to make herself beautiful. A little too much, even, said the mother. She thought too much about going out and not enough on her studies. The father had not come to the meeting. He was a farmer, and at six o'clock every evening he had to milk the cows.
What could Max do for Delphine? How could he be useful to her? If, as Danielle claimed, it was necessary to be attentive to the people who crossed our path, and not to pass by without seeing them, then he should probably use his position as a professor to exert some influence.
Could he show her the way, already, he who had just begun his own journey?
" Very well," he said in English, after collecting the tests. "Now we're going to do a little oral. You work in pairs with your neighbor, and you tell them in English your last outing with friends. If you're struggling to find the right words, you can use the dictionary on your mobile phones. Come on, ten minutes of conversation two by two, and then we discuss it together..."
In the evening, after her last lesson, it was Danielle who was waiting for him at the university entrance, beautiful in her black raincoat, tight at the waist, which showed her tall and slender, and brought out her blond hair.
"Let's dot the i's," said Max from the outset, without letting himself be too impressed by her beauty, handing her the sheet that contained the portrait of Delphine. "You made me understand that being a teacher is not only about teaching irregular verbs... You told me you had to have real contact with people ... how far do you think I can go?"
Danielle smiled. She began to know Max and his occasionally slightly aggressive questions.
"Let's say, until the current passes, from person to person. In the end, of course, everyone will continue on their own ways. You cannot stop every time you meet someone. But those people who accompany you to a period of your life, with whom you've shared an experience, you should have a real relationship with them.
"Be more precise. I tried to make my student Delphine talk about what she's interested in right now, which is going out clubbing or to balls, but I didn't know what to do with it."
" She confides in you, that's the first step. The second step is that you confide in her, that you allow her to approach you."
"To confide myself to my students?"
"Student or professor, dancer or president of the Republic, we are first of all human beings, people. And to create a climate of trust between two people, there has to be an exchange. You have to let people come to you, know a little more about you, so they trust you and if they need help and you can help, then you will. That's a real relationship."
" Do you do that with everyone?"
"Yes. With you, for example! You let me see, in spite of yourself, that you were not completely at ease in French. I let you know I was born alone. That's why I could talk to you about difficulties and then help you."
" Wow, what a manipulator!"
He stopped walking and he looked at her for a moment without saying a word, smiling. Face to face, her blue eyes plunging unceasingly into his black eyes, they wondered for a moment what they were for each other. Two close friends no doubt, who were confiding themselves to each other...
"Let's go," she said at last; "walk me up to the African cafe. I have a rendezvous with Babakar. Until he arrives, I will correct your student portrait."
The evening fell early in November and the moon was full, romantic. Danielle, the literary, recited:
It was,
in the dark night,
On the yellowed steeple,
The moon,
Like a dot on an i.
Max repeated. He liked how Danielle used every opportunity to teach him something new. As soon as they were installed in the café, he noted down these few lines of Alfred de Musset, while Danielle read his student portrait.
Delphine is 15 years old. A pretty face at the end of childhood, eyes that are rounded with surprise when she does not understand what I say. The eyebrows are reduced to a black line, the mouth is cherry red, and the nails painted.
Despite everything, she kept her maiden purity, in her nice smile and smooth skin.
She would bring her hair back behind her ears before going to work. She's serious, as are girls often, with concentration and a sense of work, but she likes to laugh too, and when laughter gets to her, she turns against the wall to hide her face.
Danielle pointed out the few mistakes and Max tried to apply the past participles, head down on the piece of paper.
Danielle drank her tea, then picked up a hibiscus flower that had fallen on the table and hung it on the pocket of his blouse.
"What you should do is explain to your students what you do when you go out, and with whom you go out."
"But I don't go clubbing or to balls."
"Exactly. This is where you can show Delphine that there is something else in life. And as I'm sure you impress her, what you say is important...."
That's when Babakar arrived. He stopped near the window, looked inside at his friends who talked to each other who had not noticed him, then turned around and left.
" And you, Danielle, with whom do you go out and why?" Suddenly asked Max, resting his pen.
She laughed.
"I go out with you for a French course!"
"What about Babakar?"
"Babakar is late..."
Max's phone rang. He got up and walked away so that Danielle could not hear the shouting of Babakar.
"What're you playing at, man?!! Are you kidding me?! What are you doing with Danielle in this cafe? It's with me that she has an appointment!"
" Calm down, this is my French course, listen:
It was,
in the dark night,
On the yellowed steeple
The moon,
Like a dot on an i."
"You come out right away, I'll show you the moon myself! I'm waiting for you outside... Let's get things straight!"
.....
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A cappella
Ficțiune generalăMax, a 20 year old who's lived his whole life abroad, decides to go back to his home country and rediscover his roots. On his identity journey, he forms new relationships, that push him to reconsider his very nature. Will they be able to tame the...
