Free Beside the Sea by Veronique Olmi

off, like yesterday, visitors arriving in this damp town every evening, but to do what? Yes, people arrive here every evening and no one knows why, no one gives a stuff, they come, they go, it doesn’t bother anyone, doesn’t make anyone happy either, it’s just movement, a bit of noise, no surprises, nothing to worry about.
    I knew how to get to the funfair. You had to head out of town, towards the main road, that’s what the man said. Fairs are often next to a main road, so the music doesn’t disturb anyone. It’s like with prisons, or nursing homes, anything that doesn’t fit in with the surroundings happens near main roads, where laws aren’t the same and pain is different.
    I soon knew I was heading in the right direction: I saw sparkling lights driving back the darkness, and I could hear music. There, that’s the fair. The boys still didn’t ask any questions, they walked in silence, I felt they trusted me, they believed in me, yes, they believed in me completely.
    We were gradually surrounded by people. Couples, groups of teenagers, I couldn’t see any children… what was the time? Hard to believe it’s exactly the same time for everyone at the same moment, hard to believe we have such important things in common. People were talking very loudly. They were digging each other in the ribs, they were joshing each other and laughing, pretending to beannoyed, the boys were pinching the girls and the girls had high heels and lipstick, I never looked like them, even at their age, and anyway I never was their age.
    We weren’t very far from it now, we could hear the music really loud but couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make out what the singer was saying, what he was bawling about, yes, it seemed a sad sort of song. The lights carved into the sky, threw up little fireworks, it was really strange to think we were going to step into that light, and take on a bit of colour.
    People were running round us, overtaking us, they looked happy, were they the same people you came across in broad daylight? Was this a surprise for them, too, or did they always live like this, with a funfair next to the main road? I didn’t recognize them, I wouldn’t have dared pull faces at them behind their backs, they were so happy, they seemed strong.
    What surprised me as soon as we got there was the smell. A reek of cooking oil and sugar, a smell that couldn’t get lost in the crowd and followed everyone everywhere. It smelt greasy and everything seemed more dense than normal: the smells but also the lights, the music, the shouts, the laughter… no, you could hardly recognize these people, you’d have thought it was everyone’s birthday, a day made specially for them.
    I looked at my boys, they were wide-eyed, impressed , yes, they were impressed. It warmed my heart. I was proud. Obviously, we didn’t feel at home there like the others, but that would come. We were feeling our way, carefully, like getting into cold water, only worse but we’d get used to it. The others were fine! They must be the same people who laugh and have fun by the sea when it’s all blue, they like being together because they’re all the same, or maybe not: they like being the same to be together… what I mean is it was difficult telling them apart.
    If it wasn’t for the mud I’m sure they would have danced, but it clung to everyone’s shoes, it climbed up their legs, it churned with greasy bits of paper and spent firecrackers. With that mud you couldn’t forget where you were, in a little town beside the rain, shoehorned between the sea and the main road.
    I knew what I wanted. I wanted to buy the kids some chips. Eating with your fingers was something Kevin and Stan really loved, and eating chips is always a treat. I looked for the truck. We went past shooting ranges and fairground rides, the boys looked but didn’t ask for anything, taking it in through their eyes, maybe they thought we were only going to look, but oh no! we were going to