Citizen Hébert
AN ORDERLY LINE OF CITIZENS. Seemingly citizens of all sorts. Namely there seemed to be a baker still dressed in appropriate garb, a nobleman likely of low rank, a soldier who seemed dismayed at his membership in the line and numerous other individuals that seemed to be numbering in the four hundreds. Crowded together on a majority of occasions most bumped a body part of one sort or another. Truly a splendid display of citizenly equality! A nobleman and a baker bumping shoulders and neither displaying a reaction of any sort, not the nobleman threatening the baker nor the baker apologizing to the noblemen, then again a noblemen of low rank. Perhaps an unnecessary point I’m attempting to make.
While the two of similar stature knock against one another the line begins to jaunt forward. At the front the line leads onto a wooden stage that seemed to be a light brown, likely a linden or tree of such likeness, before being stained red to get the shade that it is this second. Though it will likely darken still. On the podium an unsightly man stood on a small box, evidently the podium did not do enough to compensate for his personal needs, he wears competent clothes but through stress on the useful parts of the clothes, the elbows and knees especially, the clothes are worn thin. Likely the man’s only competent clothes. The stress seems to as well have worn the man thin, which one might not expect of an official of his station but processing four hundred man a day would tire even the most zealous of governmental believers.
The official raised a ledger, his voice and bellowed: “Today on the 1st day of the 2nd month of the 1st year of the nation’s freedom, we will being the trials once more to cleanse the nation of all those who wish to slip a knife in her ambitions while kissing her cheeks and hand her to the enemies outside too afraid to let her stand! We judge the enemies within not for vengeance but so that we may defend ourselves, our families, and our Fatherland!”
I do believe it unimportant to the parts of this scene that I wish to focus on but perhaps for the clarity of the picture it is important to mention the following. Surrounding this line and podium is a mass of a thousand man at a quick estimate. They jeer and shout a number of obscenities both at the thin official and the other man standing on the podium, a large burly man. The burly man accompanies and cleans a wooden contraption. The line strung from a building on the eastern side of the square up to the podium through the throng of the people, on either side of the line a number of soldiers formed a partition. It seems because of the presence of this partition that the soldier standing not next to his fellows but in the line itself seems to be particularly confused at his lack of comradery with his comrades. The members of the mass while mainly focused on the podium did on occasion sneer towards the line but a few in the mass also seemed to be of an opposite conviction.
While said with some certain fervor, it is not easy to miss the hint of tiredness in the voice of the official. Both tiredness from lack of sleep, to be seen by his appearance, and tiredness from a lack of excitement, to be seen in his voice. I do believe it says much about the mental state of the official that he has begun to yawn in front of the processing of the citizens. Again I believe this detail unimportant to the scene and progressing story I wish to tell. A few more facts before I can get to the start of my story. I ask you dear attendee to bear with a few more words.
The official stated, “The trial of citizen Émile Vachon will now begin.”
Again that little note of tiredness strung in the officials’ voice, the first citizen in the line stepped forward and up onto the podium, gagging only slightly at the smell of the red stain used to stain the wood. Better than most fare. The three hundred ninety nine citizens in line did not cover their dismay at stepping closer to the red stained podium, the official, the burly man and the wooden contraption.
Another unimportant detail to my story but perhaps important to understanding the dismay of the citizens in line, the members of the line are not happy to be in the line. The line is the wrong side of the partition. The reason why is because of the 3 on the podium and perhaps the red stain on the podium as well but I think it the least of the worriers of the citizens in line, a momentary discomfort as it was for m. Vachon. The real worry is for the 3 on the podium. The reason why I think is slightly important for the understanding of the dialogue that will populate the crux of the story so I will quickly demonstrate the why of the peoples unhappiness with being in the line with the example of the m. Vachon’s trial.
M. Vachon stepped forward and up onto the podium gagging only slightly, he smiled nodded at the official and attempted not to look at the burly man, who was still busy tending to the contraption dragging a large red stained rag repeatedly and obsessively over the wooden contraption. The burly man tended to the contraption as if in love with it. Sadly the contraption seemed not to care for the burly man, poor man to be the subject in such a one sided love and not the object. Not that that is such an ideal role either. If one were to consider it the life of the burly man truly must have taken a turn for the worse with the introduction of the contraption. Where before in these proceedings he would perform to the crowd in time honored displays of consequence, and, in exceptional instances, more elaborate proceedings. The contraption took this from him and brought in place a streamlined trial, making him no more than a mere technician and at best a comparatively clumsy machine. Yet the burly man did not mind. The proof of his lack of contempt is shown in the fact that the wooden contraption has retained its original oaken brown color even though no moment in my memory can remember a scene where the red stained podium and contraption ever could be themselves without one another. But again my excuses an unimportant detail.
The m. Vachon succeeded in his attempt to ignore the burly man but failed in ignoring the man’s obsession. For the entirety of m. Vachon’s stay on the red stained podium his eyes hung on the unemotional wooden contraption. The burly man noticing the presence of m. Vachon for the first time placed down the rag and straightened taking up a position between m. Vachon and the wooden contraption. The burly man looked fixedly passed m. Vachon at the official and m. Vachon stared strictly passed the man at the wooden contraption.
The official looked down at his ledger once more and began to read aloud, “The Citizen Émile Vachon is accused with the crime of spreading rhymes to lovers in the alleys, lamenting on the state of welfare in the nation, and failing to show proper support for the nation!”
Again I find it a most unimportant detail but perhaps for the atmosphere of this scene which I do find important to understanding the story I wish to tell it is necessary to tell you the following facts: The podium is given a three meter breadth by the masses not through a forceful barricade but seemingly by their own choice, a sensible one I think personally. Again how the official can so easily stand and even be bored standing on the red stained podium I struggle to comprehend, I understand how the burly man worshipping the source of the stain can stand there but how such a thin and seemingly weak man can stand upright does baffle me, a fully desensitized servant of the state he is. The state must be pleased having created a dutiful butler like him.
When the m. Vachon was called upon the red stained podium the crowd truly erupts in all sorts of ways. Naturally the audible way jeers and screams cover what feels like more than just the hearing sense, but also in the physical way an eruption of items explode out of the crowd toward the podium. It would be fair to say that a poor man’s volcano had been triggered in the middle of the square. Numerous shoes, vegetables of all sorts, a wig, and a few bricks. Only a number of the vegetables find their mark the rest sail into the crowd behind the podium, a brick does find its way to its mistaken destination, namely a member of the line but not the correct one, as it strikes the skull of one mme. Moreau. She falls with a loud clunk but no noise. The citizens in line behind her grumble as they move closer to the podium again sooner than they had anticipated, a guard whispers the occurrence to the official who sighs and goes searching in his ledger before angrily scratching the paper.
After each of the m. Vachon’s truly treacherous crimes were announced the crowd explodes in all directions once again.
After the official’s announcement the m. Vachon is given an attempt to defend his innocence but the crowd drowns him out making him impossible to hear even for the thin official on stage. A poor defense as the official quickly silences the crowd and sentences the m. Vachon, “Citizen Vachon the nation and it’s people have found you guilty as an enemy of the state within the state, please exit citizen Vachon.”
Quickly the burly man grabbed m. Vachon and placed him in the wooden contraption securing his neck in its middle. Perhaps important for understanding is a proper description of the wooden contraption. A three and a third meter tall upright wooden frame, an angled blade hangs at the brow of the mounting. The exiting citizen is placed at the bottom of the frame and is secured with a pillory which places the neck directly under the path of the suspended blade. As to the purpose of the contraption, the source of the red stain, the peoples sense disapproval of it, and my bewilderment of the thin man’s straight posture and tired attitude on the podium should hopefully become clear. The burly man steps away and releases the suspend blade, and the unemotional contraption for 2 short seconds becomes a whirl of emotional violence as the blade thunders towards the head of m. Vachon. The head, now detached, topples into a basket. The contraption returns to its unemotional state, the crowd erupts not in violence but cheer, the official scratches a name and prepares to read the next line, the burly man quickly removes the body of m. Vachon before scrubbing the wooden contraption obsessively again hoping to prevent any of the red stain getting on his passion, number 2 in line passively much like m. Vachon states blankly at the wooden contraption knowing their exit is the next act of national entertainment.
Now dearest attendee I hope I have properly set the scene where my story will unfold in, the crowd and it’s atmosphere, the red podium and it’s stink, the thin official and ledger, the burly man and contraption, and the line and unhappiness. If for your interest I have not properly done so I do apologize but the line is moving and the story I wish to tell is beginning.
Towards the late front of the line, if one had to estimate it would be around member 78 in the line, but not within the line but on the rather cheerful side of the partition a seeming member of the line stood. His mood seemed so fowl he would be rather at home with the unhappiness that was popular with members of the line, but instead he stood to its right. Naturally not all members of the crowd are people here to see the fatherland healed of its cancerous cells and are beaming with pride, cancerous cells while negative to the system do not come to be in isolation. Family members, friends, or associates come with a poor mood to see the cancerous cells exited. Of course even attending the daily processing without exhibiting nationalist pride was just as quick a way to buy into the line, as even showing neutrality towards the nation was seen as cancerous thus these external line members are far and few between. When they do attend the processing they try their best to feign membership of the crowd, but as they never really take their eyes from their associated member of the line and the wooden contraption their non-belonging is apparent. The state believes that all people associated with these cancerous cells are cancerous themselves and need be thrown into line. I find this unnecessary. When the citizens in line exit their associated cells exit from the crowd as the scene they’ve come to see has finished, unfortunate for those come for scenes that take place in the latter half of the play. What they’ve seen should be consequence enough for their association with the cancer. But that is simple intuition, I’m not competent enough to understand the opinions of the state. One might wonder what about this one man to the right of the partition makes him of such interest to me that he plays the main role in the story I wish to tell, a simple enough question to answer this man is my father.
My father and I have attended numerous of these events, they occur almost daily, yet today is a first for the both of us you see my father recognized somebody in this line, my father was an associate of a nonfunctioning or perhaps even damaging cell, perhaps an unnecessary distinction as the nation sees little difference between the two. I also held an association to this person in the line but my own personal feelings about the person are an unimportant fact to the story.
My father stared for a while at three unique things, firstly the person in line that he was associated with, the closest guard to this person, who coincidentally was a close friend of my fathers, and the wooden contraption. The burly man had by now finished cleaning the contraption, he succeeded in preventing any red stain from getting on it, the official once more began to read from his ledger calling the second person in line on to the podium where the same process began to repeat itself. As much as I would like to give the trial and summary exit of this individual the same treatment as m. Vachon’s trial as it is naturally just as deserved, it would simply be a waste as it is an unimportant detail. The official listed out the crimes of the second citizen, after which again numerous items were thrown, the list more extensive then the items in the first, I do wonder what will be thrown at the third citizen as I assume most people in the crowd did not bring a third shoe. Aswell I wonder what will be thrown at the two hundredth, even the most fervent nationalist has a limit to the amount of items he would be willing to sacrifice to the plight of the fatherland. And if no limit is to be found in his will there is a limit to be found in his physical capacity to fulfill his thoughts.
At this moment my father like the members of line stared blankly at the contraption and it’s blade hanging inert, or as its proponents would call it at this moment, rational. Perhaps an apt description as my father at this moment seemed to be in thought, though perhaps only an apt description from this side of the partition as the people in line seemed not to think of much at all. I mean not that they had all already exited their bodies and were simply waiting for the evidence of their exit, the separation of mind and body, to be proven, but I mean that thinking isn’t the right word to give to the people in the line. They felt, they felt their hearts beating, the fresh air in their chest, they felt the slight breeze that ran through the square, the slight resistance of humidity in the air. Perhaps their senses knowing they haven’t much longer to enjoy the sensible world were taking in a last impression. Naturally this counts only for a percentage of the population of the line, those accepting of their position within it, others were deep in thought, namely in screaming at the guards at the injustice of their fate.
The second individual was also given the opportunity to plead his case which he did halfheartedly, doing his best to speak over the roar of the crowd but after a few moments attempt he realized the impossibility of the task and remained silent for the remainder of the time given to him. The official already scratching the name from his ledger announced the exit of the second citizen, the burly man grabbed the second citizen, placed his neck under the blade, and once more released the contraption. The contraption grinned wickedly as the blade released fell like thunder cackling on the way to slice the second citizens head from the rest of his body. It is from the inside of the line apt to say that the contraption is a machine full of twisted emotion the moment the blade begins to fall. My father, one of the few members in the crowd that feel a member of the line, likely at this moment experienced that violent flood of emotion, snapping him out of his thought and into movement. I can only theorize what caused my father to act in such a way as I was never able to speak with my father about this moment, thus you will have to bear with my second hand account of this story as a close observer and somebody that knows my father quite well. He rushed passed the rows of the crowd in front of him towards number 78 in line, the guard my father knew saw him approaching and began to smile but my father did not allow it, grabbing the guard by both shoulders he shook him violently and screamed, “Stop it!”
This is it dear attendee! This is the reason I was forced to tell you all those facts, to truly convey the spectacle of this very moment! This is the crux!
Before I continue on into the dialogue between my father and the guard, I think it important to tell a few more facts about my father such as the sort of person that he is, his behavior and why this moment is so grandiose and shocking to me, information I perhaps should have lead with. You must understand my father is a weak willed man. In an ungenerous and unkind way of speaking my father is a coward. Thus this action of him rushing the guard threatening his own well-being, which is out of character for my father, is what makes this moment, though already a scene from a romantic novel, all the more unbelievable. Thus bear with me through a few facts about my father and then we will be able to continue into the dialogue between father and guard.
While I have stated it so that it seems this, properly expressing the personality of my father, is a simple task it most definitely is not. Not that my father is a complex and layered man, a man who has evolved through experience and changed, change verging on becoming a new man. If anything I am grateful for my father’s simplicity as I wish to keep this background information limited as it is at the most on the fringe of necessity. This is a complex task as I, a far cry from a man of letters, lack a technical understanding to put the whole of a man into words. Naturally this information could be given in the form of a list of common place facts such as name, birth, relationships, hobbies and interests but such a list would surely outstay it’s welcome and most definitely would take too long. We haven’t many exits left to waste!
As I lack the necessary skills to put the totality of a personality into words I will focus on the most relevant aspects of my father needed to properly convey why I feel the need to tell this story. The highest points of my father’s cowardice, the lowest points of my father’s life.
While I’m sure my father would wish for any story explaining himself to begin long before him to explain all the circumstances that lead to him coming to be in the circumstances he came to be in. I have neither patience not do I believe that any extra background information to this already background story would be necessary for the foreground story. To you dearest attendee I would like to introduce my only parent: Joseph Hebért. Currently aged 51 but a different age at different moments and for our first lowest high of my father’s lack, aged 5.