Date: Sat, 10 May 2008 09:45:51 +0200 From: A.K. Subject: The Most Difficult Contest 09/12 (athletics) ---------------------------- THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on December 2, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Acam ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- CHAPTER 9 - At the end of the tunnel, the light After the old lady took him in Robert stayed there until it was late at night - that is until she saw that only a couple of journalists were still waiting on the pavement. So Robert left her and hurriedly went out. The journalists recognized him and ran after him. Robert turned round a corner and slipped inside an open street door closing it silently behind him. He heard the steps of his pursuers run past and go far beyond his hiding place. He waited for a few minutes then opened the door again and looked outside. The street was deserted. He walked away. He walked several blocks until he reached a boulevard. He went along it until he saw a taxi coming and signalled it to stop. "Take me to a cheap hotel..." he said to the taxi driver. "How much would you pay, sir?" "As little as possible." "Around 100 franks per night?" "Yes, alright." "Then I'll take you to the Hotel des Sports." "Very good." said Robert in an ironic tone. He had to pay in advance, as he had no luggage with him. He paid for four days. When he gave the receptionist his ID card the man looked at him. "Ah, you." he said. "Any problems?" Robert asked roughly. "No, sir, absolutely not." "I would appreciate if you don't spread the news anyway." The man looked at him with an offended expression, "It is not a thing we do sir." "I apologise. I'm very tired..." "Here is your key sir. At the end of the corridor on the right side." "Thank you." "Good night sir." "Good night." Robert went to the room and shut himself inside. Undressed and threw himself on the bed, and thought of Jean Paul. He should telephone him. But it was too late and anyway there was no telephone in the room. He would call the next day. He tried to sleep but wasn't able to. All that horrible day was unwinding itself in front of him like a movie; not stopping, insistent and a torment... he finally fell asleep, totally exhausted when the first light of dawn was leaking in from the window. He slept several hours of restless but uninterrupted sleep. When he woke up it was already five in the afternoon. He was feeling hungry. He got up and summarily washed himself at the sink that was in the room. He put on his clothes and went out. In the hall there was a pay telephone. He tried to call Jean Paul but got no answer. He asked the receptionist to tell him where was a cheap restaurant. He was in a poor neighbourhood where maybe he would be left in peace. He found the restaurant and asked for a one-course dish, ate it, paid for it and left. He had little money with him. He looked for an automatic cash dispenser, found one, inserted his card and withdrew some money. He then went into an old pub, sat and ordered a shandy. What could he do now? He was without work and without anywhere to live... However cheap it was he could not live in that hotel forever. He had to look for a job first. ... Looking for a job when you are almost fifty... and his only skill was as a sports coach... and he could not do that job any more. He bought a newspaper and looked for the vacancies. He marked a couple of ads - the following morning he would go and see them. But Robert was feeling empty. He didn't know what to do. It was too early to go to bed but it was too late to go around and look for a job, and anyway he had no idea where he could go or how to start to look for one. He didn't feel like contacting a friend perhaps out of fear of being rejected, unwelcome or refused... The only person on whom he could count now was Jean Paul but he tried to call him again at his home. The line was free but he got no answer. Maybe Jean Paul had gone back to Poitiers to escape the journalists... The newspapers! Also on that he had in hand he had caught a glimpse of a full page article about him and Jean Paul and he had at once turned the page. He didn't want to read it or to see it... He tore out the page with the ads and threw away the rest of the newspaper. He ordered another shandy. If one of his boys had dared to drink just one of them he would have skinned him alive! But at that point... He had lost everything and yet he felt no regret about his relationship with Jean Paul. He was in love with him and what he had had with that boy was the most beautiful thing that happened him in the whole of his life. If he only had Jean Paul with him now all would seem bearable. Much later and after two more shandies he went back to the Hotel des Sports. The night receptionist greeted him with a wave. He went to bed and this time fell asleep almost immediately. The following morning he went to see the two places he had marked in the ads. As soon as he was recognised he was told that they could not hire him. Courteously but firmly. He understood that it would have been useless to insist. That was just the beginning. He went round tried and asked... always uselessly. And sometimes he was sent away without even formal politeness. He paid for four more days in that cheap hotel. He bought a change of clothes, a bag, a toothbrush and a razor. He was short of money again so he went to an automatic cash dispenser to withdraw some more money. But this time the machine didn't give him any and on the monitor appeared the notice, "Card not authorized. Call your bank." It was strange because he had plenty of money in his account... The following morning he went to the branch of the bank where he had his account and was informed that his wife had withdrawn all the money and closed the account. He then called his house. The telephone rang but nobody answered. Robert was not even upset - he should have guessed. The weather was not bad. He left the hotel and spent his first night on a park bench. He went on looking for a job but uselessly. He spent the last of his money. He tried a couple more times to call Jean Paul, but to no avail. He started to beg. He felt terribly ashamed about it but he had not even a single franc in his pocket. He managed to collect some change - enough to pay for a meagre meal. He found a secluded place in a corner of the park, between some bushes and a wall, where he put some corrugated cardboard so as not to sleep directly on the ground. He went on begging. His appearance was beginning not to be respectable so that he didn't even have the courage to go job hunting any more. By begging he managed to pay for his meals and also for some drinks. He started to drink more and more alcohol - at least this helped him not to think. He didn't try to call Jean Paul any more - evidently he was not in Paris. Maybe he had abandoned him too... But even if Jean Paul was looking for him any attempt to find him at home would fail... And moreover if Jean-Paul saw him now in the state he had sunk to... he would surely run away. After the first night when it rained Robert had to find somewhere better to sleep. He had gone round all day long looking for somewhere to shelter for the night. He thought that the bad weather would come and with it not only rain but also cold.- He had to find somewhere sheltered and maybe also collect some rags - a blanket would be a real luxury... But he had to find a place where he couldn't be turned out... and where other tramps would not steal whatever rags he could collect... that was a real problem. The other tramps! It was quite a shock to think of them. Until then he had thought of himself as just an unlucky man who was struggling to start a new life. When he realised he was a tramp he felt much worse. He was just trying to survive. He really was a particularly poor sort of tramp now... he was an outcast! As he went round begging he noticed a glass door with a sign on it "The Little Brothers of the Poor". He was tempted to go in but then he felt too ashamed and went away. But from time to time in the next few days he happened to walk past in front of the glass door. Sometimes he saw well-dressed young people going in and out... sometimes older people less smartly dressed... but never a tramp like him. Maybe they helped poor people there but not tramps, he thought. Nobody wants the tramps... nobody. On his rounds he sometimes happened to walk past a sports complex too in the evenings. He waited in a corner, half hidden, for a while and watched the people who were going in and out from a distance. ... And once he found himself near the gym where the decathlon team was training... and, hidden in the shadow, he saw his boys again - Eric, Michel, Thierry, Charles, Serge, Claude, Alain... and a tear shone in his tired eyes. Claude was friends with his Jean Paul... Sometimes he went back to beg in that part of the city in the evening just to see them... And once he saw Rhemy walking towards him and he felt lost... he might be recognized... he felt terribly ashamed. He wanted to run away but something stopped him moving... Then as Rhemy passed he glanced briefly at him and threw some coins into his cap on the ground and walked on quietly. He didn't recognize him! At first Robert felt a mixture of relief and of disappointment. But then he thought - how could Rhemy recognize his former coach now that he was wrapped in rags with a long beard and dirty? No, he was unrecognisable nowadays. He had become an invisible man he thought bitterly. And anyway, the irregular meals, the alcohol he consumed, the lack of any physical exercise, had ravaged his body. Then Robert had another problem. Occasionally he felt the urges of sex and each it time happened they were stronger. After all he was not yet fifty-years-old. But in his reduced state there was no chance of finding somebody who would want to have sex with him. Even if he had enough money to pay a hustler, where would he find one willing to go with him? He relieved himself at night or in a public lavatory... but this only had the effect of making him more frustrated and feeling even more sub-human. The months went by. One afternoon when he was walking past the door of the "Little Brothers of the Poor" a young man behind him greeted him. "I see you pass here from time to time but you never come in to pay us a visit. Come in please, I'd like to offer you a coffee..." Robert looked at him in amazement. It was the first time in months that somebody had approached him with anything but insults. He stood stock still looking at the young man with a blank expression on his face unable to utter a single word. But the young man's smile was warm and sincere... The young man gently took his arm, "Come in, please... do me the favour..." he said in a gentle tone. "Favour?" Robert asked hesitantly. "I would really be pleased... come in..." he said undemandingly. Robert nodded and the young man led him in with an almost affectionate gesture. He opened the glass door for him and steered him into a room a bit like a church hall buffet. They sat at a table and the young man called to a girl who was busying herself behind the counter. "Hi, Marie." Then asked Robert, "Would you like a white coffee? Or would you like something else?" "White coffee thank you..." Robert murmured. "Marie, two white coffees and some croissants, please. Thank you." "Straightaway JŽr™me." the girl cheerfully answered. "Yes I'm JŽr™me." the young man said offering him his hand. Robert shook that hand and it did his heart good to feel a strong grip that was warm and friendly. JŽr™me didn't ask for his name and Robert felt grateful. "Why did you invite me in?" he asked hesitantly. "Oh, because I almost feel as if I knew you..." "Know me? You know who I am?" "Oh no, not your name not your story. But I have seen you so many times. I've noticed that you walk past here every Tuesday and Friday. You come from the boulevard and go towards the railway every time. So I started to look out for you and if you didn't walk past I was worried that something might have happened to you..." "You are very kind... I thought I had become an invisible man..." JŽr™me smiled "Sometimes I feel as if I had become an invisible man, here in Paris." "Aren't you from Paris?" "I've been living here for eight years. But I come from the Jura, from a village called Saint Claude." "Saint Claude? I knew a boy from Saint Claude... younger than you... his name was Eric..." "You... are you from Paris?" "Oh yes, my family has been here for at least two generations. ..." Robert started to say, but stopped. Marie brought the two white coffees and several croissants. They started to eat and drink. JŽr™me smiled at him. Robert thought that it was months since he had sat comfortably at a table, An old man came in. He was dressed in cheap clothes but clean and decorous. When the old man looked at him Robert felt ashamed. The old man greeted them. "Good afternoon everybody! Marie, you're prettier each time I see you!" "Oh go on Vincent!" the girl answered with a smile. "JŽr™me my son, how are you?" "Fine Vincent, and you?" "Thank god I'm surviving. May I sit at your table?" the man asked looking at Robert. Robert nodded. The old man sat down and Marie asked him, "What can I get you, Vincent? Hot chocolate as usual?" "Yes, please." said the old man. Then he spoke to Robert, and said, "My name is Vincent. You are new here, aren't you? I don't recognise you." "I'm just passing by... JŽr™me invited me in for a coffee..." "Ah, I see. Two years ago I too came in here for the first time. I was invited in by Marc for a coffee you know? By the way How is Marc?" the old man asked JŽr™me. "Fine. I heard from him just yesterday." "Is everything fine in Lyon?" "Yes, they have just found a really good place near Perrache Station. They are organizing it." "Marc is clever. He will do good there too. Well you are all clever anyway, may god bless you." the old man said and then turned towards Robert, "You will see. You will feel fine here. They all are real Brothers. Maybe even more than Brothers. To me they are now my real family." Robert looked at him somewhat confused. JŽr™me stood up. "I'll be back soon. I'll let you have a chat. You are in good company." Robert made as if to stand up too, "I'll going too. I've already bothered you for too long ..." "No, no, there is no hurry. Stay a bit longer if you feel like it..." JŽr™me said. Vincent smiled at Robert, "You are feeling a little lost, aren't you? You know at first I was a bit suspicious." "Suspicious? About what?" Robert asked. "Well you know I had got used to think that behind any kindness there would be a trap. I thought - these people are going to want me to live their way. They want me to become integrated in their system... And on the contrary nothing like that happened. I mean they offer you what they have and that you need, and they don't ask you for anything in exchange. Really not a single thing. For instance, would you like a bath? They have one in the back with hot water, shampoo, soap, razor, toothpaste, all you need. But if you prefer not to wash they will never say that you're dirty, you stink or you ought to wash yourself. No, never. If you ask them for better clothes that those you have, they will let you choose from what's in the wardrobe. But if you prefer to wear rags, they will let you wear your rags. I mean they really respect you and make you feel that they like you exactly as you are, do you understand? They really are wonderful..." "But who are, they?" "The little Brothers of the Poor. They are like monks and nuns but without the dress. And we are their family." "The sign on the door is the Little Brothers..." "Yes, and besides the Little Brothers like JŽr™me and Marc, there are others who help them but live at home with their families, and are the Little Friends of the Poor. The Little Brothers live together, as monks do in a monastery. They also have a small chapel where they hold mass every morning at six." "Oh, so you have to go to mass then." "No, they have to go. If you like you can go too - if you believe in it but that's your business. Here nobody will never ever ask you if you believe in God or not; whether you go to church or not, whether you say your prayers or not. And this place is always open day and night. And here we are always welcome. But... tell me... do you have a place where you can sleep?" "I managed..." "If you want, JŽr™me can help you find something better." "I don't have any money..." "Here money has no value. Nobody asks you for money and nobody gives you money. If you want a sweater, or shoes, or to have a bath, or a meal, they will give them to you. But never money. And they are right about that, I think. Anyway they certainly will never ask you for money or anything else for that matter." "But all this must cost a lot. Who gives them the money for all this?" "The friends. The Little Friends help them to raise the money as it is needed. The money or even better the things. They trust in Providence." "Providence? Does it really exist?" "Just look around you. All you see is Providence. This place has been running for thirty years at least and without a bank account thanks to Providence." "You are enthusiastic about this place and these people..." "They are my family. My children had forgotten me. These people don't ever forget you. They don't ask you for anything and give you all they have. For example I'll bet they didn't ask you who you are, or for your name. Am I right?" "Yes you are..." "They will never ask you. Never. If you would like to tell them they will listen. But they will never ask you. At first I told them my name was Dominic... because I didn't trust them. Then, when I got to know them, I told them the truth and felt a bit ashamed about it. But they simply stopped calling me Dominic and started calling me by my real name as if nothing had happened. So you can choose a name if you want. If all it does is mean you won't be called 'Hey, you'!" Vincent explained with a grin. Robert looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know if I'm going to come back again ..." "You are free... but if you come you will always be welcome. There will always be a place for you here." "Anyway... my name is Robert... that is my real name." "Well Robert. Is there anything you want now?" "No... I don't know... I have nothing..." "You mustn't worry about asking when you are here. Do you want a transistor radio? If they have one they will give it to you. If they haven't they will try to find one. For you." "A transistor radio? No, what would I do with one?" "I was just picking an example at random... You can ask for anything really anything." "What about a job?" "Yes a job too. They don't promise to be able to find one for you but at least they will really try. Or else you can do as I do. I help them with everything I can. I'm too old now to find a regular job. But you are still young. If you want a job, I think they will find something for you. But then... you would need to wash yourself and to get better clothes first ... forgive me for saying so." "No, you are right. Could I ask them to let me have a bath and to give me some clean clothes?" "Of course. When JŽr™me comes back. Do you want to ask him yourself or would you rather get me to ask for you?" "No, I don't know... well, I feel a bit ashamed but... I've learned to live with shame the whole time." "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Robert, if you try to make your life better. And anyway you have nothing to be ashamed of in this place." "All this seems so unbelievable still ..." "Why? Just look at me. When I got here, I was even worse than you are now. I was sleeping under the bridges do you know? But now I've a little room of my own and I've started to live again. And as I'm helping them as much as I can I feel I'm still useful, and that this is beginning to be alive again. To be of use to somebody again..." When JŽr™me came back he had a small parcel in his hand. "Vincent this is for you." "Oh... You haven't really..." "Yes I got one at last." Vincent unwrapped the little parcel. It contained a small glass sphere containing a reproduction of the sanctuary at Lourdes and water and when it was turned upside down snow fell slowly down inside it. "Oh, JŽr™me, thank you!" the old man said happily. Then he showed it to Robert and said, "Do you see Robert... Forty years ago I went to Lourdes and bought a globe like this. But then I dropped it and broke it. That was many years ago. I have always wanted to find one again... It is not useful I know; it's just a nick-nack. But to me it's magic. And now I have one again... My little room will be more beautiful now. Thank you, JŽr™me, thank you from my heart my son!" Robert looked at the old man and felt moved - people who are willing to give you useless things too... they are people who really care about you. He looked at JŽr™me. "My name is Robert..." "A nice name, Robert." JŽr™me said with a smile. "Vincent was telling me that... I can have a bath and... also get some more proper clothes and that afterwards... you might be able to help me to find a job... is that really true?" "Of course Robert. The clothes... we can go to choose some now. So you can have your bath and change into them. Then if you want we can also talk about a job and we will see what we can do... Do you want to come with me to choose some clothes?" "I'm... I'm confused..." "Come on Robert." JŽr™me said standing up and leading him to the wardrobe room. It was full of closets, drawers and shelves with plenty of clothes well stored and all clean and tidy. "Do you know what size you are, Robert?" JŽr™me asked and they started to choose from socks to a jacket. "The clothes you are wearing now, would you like us to wash and mend them?" "What is still retrievable..." Robert said. "Good. Well, I'll put the clothes you choose in this basket. Have a bath; change your clothes and give me back the basket with the clothes you have taken off. Later we will talk about a job too. Ah, and... will you have a meal with us, later?" ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 10 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------