Conversation · René Arnoux

"René is but one man. We need a program -- get all the elderly back in the job market, keep folks motivated."

"Look, officer..." He pauses like he doesn't actually know how to reply. "Can we conclude the topic of my guard booth now?"

"Such dependency only weakens a man further. Do or die -- there is no middle ground."

"It's not charity. Not to me..." There's a grimace of pain on the old soldier's face. Looks like he wants to add something, but can't find the words. Finally his eyes light up and he says:

"Up there I give it all I got. I earn my keep." He looks towards the guard booth and sighs. "But you're right officer, there is no middle ground. It's do or die."

Something about him has changed. He's calmer somehow.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with tare-collecting. It's my side-thing too." (Proudly hold out the tare bag.)

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply there's something wrong with that," the jolly man says quickly. "I do it too. Everyone does it. It's an excellent side-thing."

"Evrart gets it. Big guys looking after the small and everyone working together -- I love it!"

There's a grimace of pain on the old soldier's face. Looks like he wants to argue, but can't find words. Finally his lips move: "Can we conclude the topic of my guard booth now?"

He wants to argue, disagree -- but feels he's got no right, being at the mercy of Mr. Claire.

"Mostly decorative?"

"The container yard has been unguarded for a week?"

"I... saw a picture in there. You were in it. Who's the girl?"

His features stiffen and he gets a cold look. "She... is nobody. This is none of your concern and I refuse to discuss my private affairs with the RCM."

"The lady is Jeanne-Marie Beaulieu." Gaston speaks with a soft voice. "And she sure as hell wasn't a nobody."

"I said I wouldn't do it, but I found you a new boule."

"See, René, I told you he was one of the good guys." He chuckles. "You should have more faith in people."

"Thank you for your time!" [Leave.]

"Do you know anything about the man hanged in the back yard of Whirling-in-Rags?"

"I managed to get my hands on Gaston's sandwich."

"Yes," he says impatiently. "I was standing right here. I saw it. Why are you telling me this?"

He seems agitated. Trying to control himself.

"Listen, guys, in these dire times we are all brothers. Let us dine together as one." (Hold out the sandwich.)

"NO," the old soldier exclaims sharply. "I don't understand, what you're trying to accomplish with this... sandwich bonanza, but I already don't like it." He crosses his arms.

"All of this..." -- he points to you -- "is very unprofessional. Makes me think the Citizens Militia is nothing but a badly organised band of bullies and jesters. Again: I don't like this."

"We're not, the officer was just..." The lieutenant falls silent, looking for words to justify your sandwich antics.

Should have just eaten the damn thing.

"You are representing an organisation, an insignia, an idea." The old man continues in a softer tone. "You need to understand that."

It's clear these words mean a lot to him.

"Everything you do reflects on the idea and the people you are representing. When we," he says, pointing to Gaston, "think of the RCM, we think of you. Please make it a pleasant thought."

"C'mon, I was only joking around."

"I didn't find it funny."

"Me neither." The lieutenant looks weary of this whole situation. "I don't think anyone did."

"It was quite funny, officer." He lets out a keen laughter. "I thought it was very funny."

"Unbelievable... How can you even walk up straight with that liquid backbone of yours, Gaston?" He shakes his head. "Officer, what do you want?"

"That's just your opinion."

"No. It isn't. He's absolutely right." He shakes his head. "I don't like it and I feel confident saying absolutely no one in your precinct would approve of this either."

Not a soul.

"Now, gentlemen..." The lieutenant addresses the men in a casual manner. "If my partner doesn't have any other questions, we'll take off."

"That's right." The former soldier nods, his fists curling in a ball. "And I'm sharing it with you so you can better yourself..."

"Officer," the other one jumps in. "Let's not get sidetracked here with this nasty business. I know you wanted something from old René or me. Let's talk about that instead."

"I'm just gonna go -- we'll all forget about it at some point." [Leave.]

"Already forgotten, officer."

"You're right, I should have thought about it."

"Yes, well..." The lieutenant looks uncomfortable. "Let's just wrap this up and try to think about these things in the future."

"Fine. You live, learn, and move on." The former soldier nods in agreement. "The matter is closed. Now what can this old carabineer do for you, officer?"

"No-no, officer! René doesn't know what he's saying." The jolly one jumps in.

He's afraid, what might happen if his opinionated partner is allowed to speak his mind freely.

"Let us -- true Revacholians -- symbolically share this meal. For Revachol!" (Give half the sandwich to René and eat your half.)

"What? No!" He gasps, looking like he's about to cry. "Old angry René doesn't even have taste buds -- it would be a complete..."

"Silence!" he snaps at Gaston, then turns to you: "Since you put it that way, I symbolically accept your cordial gesture." He eats the sandwich-half in two well-measured bites and nods. "For Revachol."

Consuming food is mechanical process for him. He doesn't enjoy it, just goes through the motions and moves on.

Like a machine.

The old man looks devastated as he observes you and René strengthen your manly bond over his culinary wonder.

Cautious nature prevents him from voicing more objections, but he will always remember the cop who bullied him -- of that you can be sure.

"Excellent job bullying that old man, officer," the lieutenant says with a frown. He looks impatient and not happy. "He'll be sure to put in a good word for the RCM in the future."

He doesn't think it was an excellent job at all -- he's disappointed.

"You deserve it more than anyone." (Hold the sandwich out to René.)

"That's what it was all about?" He takes the sandwich. "Gaston is a snivelling rat -- I've known this my whole life -- but an RCM officer bullying an old man? Robbing him of his meal?!"