50.
I put my head in my hands, and rested my elbows on a little auto that had arrived that morning, an auto less rusty than the others, pretty good looking even, at least by Ralep standards. I don't know how long I rested like that, lost in my thoughts, giving it my all, so much so that I was practically blind and deaf. I came back to the world of reality when someone took me by the arm.
"What's that?" I yelped in a fright. It was Maubec. He said, "It's frightful that you're scared of me. I called you loud and clear. You were like a statue. I thought you had fainted. Were you asleep?"
"Excuse me, m'sieur Maubec, I'm not sleeping. My nights are restful. I never sleep between meals, proof of a clear conscience and a sound stomach. I was thinking about how to repair the little car I was leaning on."
At that moment Maubec straightened up and said, " Hello, chief." I did likewise. It was the good Monsieur Ippo-Ténuse passing by on the avenue, book in hand, as is his custom. He had overheard our conversation.
"It's very good, my child," he said, "to try to get that car to run. That would be a great pleasure to my wife." Here I said to myself that that was not the way to get me to work. And Maubec gave a sort of chuckle, as he does when he's laughing inside.
"To me as well, it would give me pleasur," added the chief, and he moved off, reading his book and making gestures as if writing on his blackboard. His last words decided me. I would be pleased to make him happy, because he's very good and I like him very much. I asked Maubec if he needed me in the office. He replied that he was finished sorting the old urgent files into the non-urgent cabinet, and that was all the work for today. So I headed off through Versailles.
Who was I going to meet? Quite simply, Father Lemboîté. I had decided in my reflections that to succeed I was going to have to secure the aid of someone mechanical, and I was going to ask the kind tram driver for his help. I arrived at Chantiers just as the tram was coming in.
I told him my story. "Lady!" he said, "I work with electrical motors, but, yes, I also know one or two things about gas engines. Still, I should find a way to find a way, if it means helping you avoid the firing squad."
51.
And he gave a great laugh. The next day that was a day off for him he came to the Ralep. He cast an eye over the vehicles, and when he was beside the one that I had remarked on earlier, he said, "If there's any one that can be made to run, it's this one right here." That gave me pride, seeng as that was what I thought too. I'm not so bright, or too shrewd, but I have a flair, that's for sure. I get it from playing with my uncle Corentin's retriever when I was little.
Having spoken as I said, Lemboîté adjusted his spectacles and'opening the hood, began to look around inside and touch all the parts of the motor. It was amusing to see how his big hands, which are like gourds, moved about adroitly and with delicacy. He reminded me of a doctor who examined me one time when I had a cold that had turned into bronchitis. The tongue, the pulse, the little taps on the back -- Lemboîté examined his motor with as much care as if it were a living person.
Word got around that one of our autos might be about to run. That stirred up the interest of those in the office. Maubec and the other employees came out to look at my old tram driver. And then the colonel made her entrance. I overheard her conversation with him, and never was a woman more polite. Oh no, she showed him all her smiles and graces. And she addressed him as "Monsieur le Militaire." I wasn't long in grasping that this was because my old friend was wearing his number one uniform, with gold buttons on the jacket and gold stripes on the cap. Because this woman, who has dried herself up trying to be military, couldn't tell a cavalryman from an aviator, or a corporal from Marshall Foch. What I didn't get was when, after speaking with Maubec, she turned to Lemboîté and addressed him as "Monsieur le militaire des troupes vaillant". The brave Lemboîté was totally confused. As for Maubec, he was making those noises he makes when he's holding in his laughter, only louder than I'd ever heard. He explained, once Carmencita had left, "You see, she noticed the letters TV on your friend's cap: Tramways de Versailles. When she asked me about it, I told her that it's a distinction they give to the best regiments, and that it stands for Troupes Vaillantes." He was enchanted by the joke, and laughed heartily, and we laughed with him, but we clammed up when we saw Monsieur Ippo-Ténuse coming our way.
52.
As our brave chief has a mind continually preoccupied with theories and calculations, he is always the last to know what's going on at the Ralep. Therefore he showed up after everyone else to watch Lemboîté at work. I presented the one to the other and they cheerfully began to talk. I believe my tram driver was flattered to see himself attended to so closely by a thinker and an educator. He showed him one by one the parts of the motor and clearly explained their functions. "These are the cylinders, that's the carburator, there's the magneto. This works like this, that works like that, and when something doesn't work you can tell what it is by the problem it causes." "How interesting this is," said the chief. "How much I'm learning from you."
In his turn, he offered explanations, explanations based on theory, of course. That worked less well, seeing that theories and formulas are not Lemboîté's strong suit. He lifted his eyebrows, opened his eyes wide, and listened with all his attention, but you could see that nothing was entering his head. "You'll understand what I'm saying," said the chief. "It'd be much clearer if I had my blackboard ... ah! look here. The figure of cylinder P, filled with gaseous mixture M, which we'll call X ..." He began to use the back of a hackney cab as a blackboard. He covered it with drawings and letters, all the while lecturing and consulting his book. "Do you follow me?" he asked from time to time. "Yes, yes, all the way," replied Lemboîté, who wasn't following anything at all.
Little by little, the chief forgot about his audience or where he was. He was asorbed in his calculations and his theory, and he continued to work away on the back of the cab. Lemboîté took advantage of this to finish his inspection of the motor. Then he straightened up and said to Maubec and me, "It'll run if you replace one part. I'll write you the name of it. This is my assessment, well made, and without breakdowns or errors in switching." But, while he was talking, we heard a great clamour that made us jump and turn around. The cabdriver, having finished his lunch, had climbed into his seat and started off. And Monsieur Ténuse, hands in the air, cried in a distressed voice, "My calculations are lost! The blackboard is leaving!" It took a few moments ...
53.
... for him to understand what had happened. When we explained it to him, as there isn't a man better, he laughed heartily along with us.
Suddenly, his laughter froze. A dried up voice said, "Agénor, you shame me, you shame my departed husband Colonel Gonzalès. Never once was my departed colonel seen fraternizing with inferiors." It was Carmencita who, returning, we heard. Poor Agénor was completely taken apart. He came to himself only when the terrible lady was gone, and he murmured, "Ah! She's not the only one who regrets the death of Colonel Gonzalès."
After making that admission, he returned to the auto. "We must make this car run. We must replace that faulty part. Do you want to install it, Monsieur Lemboîté? What would that cost?" "Ten and a half francs," said Lemboîté. The chief already had the money out of his pocket, but Maubec protested. "Just a minute," he said. "That car is property of the State, and with cars of the State it doesn't go so simply. We have to stick to the regulations. There's a circular on this sort of case, circular number 3721. Let's go read it together."
Ah! He knows his circulars and regulations, that Maubec. We all went into the office and began to hunt for circular 3721. It wasn't easy to find in all those mountains of paper. It was a question of pulling out bundles and leafing through a lot of files.
"Here's it is," he said, finally, and he read us the famous circular. To obtain a spare part, it's necessary to contact two or three services within each of four ministries, and provide a description, a cost estimate, and an explanation of the part's necessity, according to models A23, B51, C27 (twice), etc. etc. The four of us set to work on the requests and statements, and none of us lifted a nose before the end of the day. We certainly used up more than ten and a half francs' worth of paper, but everything was exactly by the book. The grouchiest controller would not be able to find fault with it.
Now it was necessary to wait for all the ministers and office chiefs to get together and discuss our 10 franc 50 replacement part. The response might be long in coming. Provided Carmencita doesn't have me shot first!
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