Like an Image

George Damien

Description

At the height of the Lebanese Civil War, Rola and Paul, two young teachers, were madly in love with each other and were due to marry soon. But the girl's parents and the circumstances of the war decided otherwise: Rola found herself in Canada as the wife of a rich Canadian-Lebanese man. Twenty-two years later, the story of the couple bounces back in a completely unexpected way. At the university where he is a teacher, Paul meets an exceptional student who seems to resent him. He investigates to find out his true identity, but something dramatic comes up and interrupts his research...

Sujets

• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 08 janvier 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781645758228
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

L ike an I mage
George Damien
Austin Macauley Publishers
2021-01-08
Like an Image Part I Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Part II Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII
Born in Lebanon in 1951, George Damien has taught French for nearly forty-five years at all levels: primary, complementary, secondary, and at university. In 1981, he obtained a doctorate in linguistics and stylistics in France. From that year to 2016, he has been a professor at Lebanese University. Author of several articles on metaphor, Mallarmé, Baudelaire, comparative rhetoric, etc., he has also written a series of language books for primary school students. During the last years of his career, he was the principal of a Lebanese private school.
To my friend, Dr. Antoine Ghossain, and my son, Fabien,
who read this book and gave me some advice,
which I didn’t always follow.
Copyright © George Damien (2021)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Ordering Information
Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Damien, George
Like an Image
ISBN 9781645758204 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781645758211 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645758228 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020923008
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2021)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302
New York, NY 10005
USA
[e-mail]
[phone]
Part I
Chapter I
“So, Joseph, what did you have to let me know? Something that relates to school?”
For some time, the two friends, Paul and Joseph, had been teaching the French at the same educational institution. Paul, the youngest, was a former pupil of Joseph; he became one of his closest friends and his colleague afterward. Before the start of the Lebanese war in April 1975, Paul was doing a BA in French literature and had come to the third year. Joseph constantly encouraged his friend to pursue his graduate studies despite his tiring work at school. He sometimes taught in his place when Paul had exams to pass at the University. By phone, Joseph announced to his friend that they should meet because he had something important to inform him about and he refused to tell him on the phone what it was. They had an appointment in a café in Zgharta, northern Lebanon, not far from Mejdlaya where was their educational institution.
Joseph hesitated first to answer the question of Paul; but, seconds later, he was unable to bear it no longer:
“Look, Paul, I have bad news that has nothing to do with the school. Rola got married and she traveled with her husband to Canada. Sorry, but someone had to tell you that, and I preferred to do it myself. You didn’t know, did you?”
Paul felt, for a moment, a black cloud falling from the sky on the café and the street in front of him. His naturally swarthy face, darkened by attached black eyebrows, turned purple. Joseph, who was aware that his friend had sometimes anxiety attacks, was distraught. He knew very well the story of Paul and Rola, who were in love with each other and who had planned to get married a year or two after Paul would have completed his degree (it took four years in that time in Lebanon). Besides Rola was like him a native of Bsharré, a large commune in North Lebanon; she also had been teaching Arabic at the same institution. Acting a little like someone trying to extinguish a fire by throwing different objects at it, Joseph provides his friend with other information:
“They visited us in Bsharré two days ago. Her husband is a distant relative; he knows my father very well; he wanted to visit us before he left for Canada. He had come here to marry a Lebanese. Someone must have told him about Rola, representing her as a wise and calm young girl. He met his parents and they did not object to conclude the marriage as soon as possible. Rola must have given in to pressure from her family, and the wedding took place just five days ago. She was very embarrassed when she came to our house; she retained from talking and constantly avoided my eyes. They traveled yesterday. Rola’s parents knew about your relationship, isn’t it?”
Paul, still in a state of shock, did not answer immediately; he was looking out onto the busy street at this time of day. Then, as if suddenly remembering his friend’s question:
“Of course, and they used to treat me with a lot of respect as if I was her fiancé. I was often invited to lunch or dinner and sometimes to stay over when it was snowing. They also recently learned that one of their relatives had threatened to shoot me if I set foot in their neighborhood again. It seemed that he intended to propose to her. Rola’s parents had to step in to check out this shady lover. And Rola herself was so revolted that she wanted to go to his place to break his feet 1 . I was crazy enough to continue to go to their place, ignoring this threat, which was quite serious. You know the people of Bsharré very well; in these cases, they don’t joke. I don’t understand. I can’t understand how her parents could have married their daughter to the first person who came along.”
Joseph was now more reassured; his friend had become more talkative. He hastened to continue:
“You said something about snow. Did you spend the winter near Bsharré?”
“Yes, I stayed in Hadad (al Jobbeh, a few kilometers from Bsharré) for the last two months of October and November just to stay close to her. I used to go to their house sometimes in snowy weather and, you know, I don’t have a car.”
“It seems that he, her husband, is wealthy; he made a fortune in Canada, where he would have several gas stations. Probably Rola’s parents thought that you don’t have a diploma in hand yet and that you might change your mind in two or three years. They found the perfect opportunity to marry their daughter.”
“More like to get rid of her. What a mentality! But she… she who used to say she was in love to her ears (as they say in Lebanon)! I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Thank you, Joseph, for telling me; I know it cost you dear. Thank you for your friendship. Don’t worry; I will not die of it.”
Paul looked at Joseph as a brother, despite the fifteen years of an age difference. Apart from the recognition he owed him and often expressed to him, he loved the way he and the rest of his family lived; one of his sisters played the piano, another the guitar and himself the saxophone. They all particularly liked bridge, chess, and belote , games generally reserved for rather wealthy social classes. Yet Joseph’s family did not belong there; in fact, he had stopped his studies and started working early enough to help finance his siblings’ studies. He was born in the Philippines, where his father had a small business, and spoke French and English impeccably. It was true that he was from Bsharré, but he had nothing of the aggressiveness and hardness of his inhabitants. He often evoked, laughing, their passion for arms and their martial spirit, which did not fit with his pacifism and his sweet manners. Even his appearance was not bsharreiotic 2 : a little curly hair, a light complexion, black and round eyes, and always an easy smile; also, when he got angry, one could easily feel that his good mood would soon come back. He had a very particular gait; it seemed as if his feet were barely touching the ground, his steps were so sharp, so fast.
“You know, I loved her very much. We are – I must say ‘we were’ since everything is now over – very close to each other; apart from the bond of love, there was an incomparable complicity between us. It only took one look for one to guess the other’s intentions. However, I was very concerned about our marriage project. You know I’m completely broke and the Lebanese war doesn’t seem to be coming to an end soon. We expected that if we both worked, we could get out of it. But here it was, things turned out differently.”
“But when was the last time you saw her?”
“Only a week ago. We were together in Hadad.”
“And she didn’t tell you anything?”
“About her wedding? Absolutely nothing.”
“Did you find her changed?”
“Not at all. On the contrary, she was, as usual, alive, cheerful, in love. She didn’t want to go home; she wanted to stay with me. She hugged me so much that I found it hard to carry her away. And two days later, she married another man, then ( snapping his fingers ) she was no longer in Lebanon! I can’t understand what happened. Phew! Never mind that! Let’s move on. Have you heard from the school? Are they going to pay us anything?”
“Unfortunately, no. The principal keeps saying that the parents still refuse to pay given the conditions in which the country and especially the school in Mejdlaya were.”
The three teachers taught in a private institution belonging to the Carmelite Fathers, a congregation of Italian origin. In Lebanon, as in most countries, private educational establishments are not free; if parents did not pay tuition fees, teachers and employees would be left