“Then he slowly goes down the ship’s ladder into the water. He’s safe inside the diving suit. The water doesn’t seem too cold. He goes down deeper and deeper and the light dwindles. The half light is very pleasant, and it’s also very comforting to know that there’s someone on the surface of the water watching over you and operating the pump to give you air. You feel safe and you keep descending. Finally you come to the bottom of the water: it’s calm and you feel very comfortable. There’s just a tiny bit of light.

You hardly feel like moving. You’re in a new world. You’re really very comfortable. You’d like to stay there forever . . . And that’s it. That’s the deep-sea diver’s complex.”

La Grande Sauterelle poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Now I understand something,” she said.

“What do you understand?” he asked, somewhat anxious.

“When you came back from the bathroom a while ago, I was watching you walk through the puddles . . .”

“Yes. And?”

“I thought you were having trouble walking and I was wondering why. Now I understand.”

“Yes?”

“You’d forgotten to take off your big lead soles!”

XVI. Chop Suey

XVI

Chop Suey

Shortly before noon, the girl came back from Independence Square with a package that contained a contact breaker, a condenser, four Bosch spark plugs and three litres of motor oil.

She took a groundsheet from her knapsack and spread it under the rear of the Volkswagen because she wanted to check the valves; she thought they were knocking a little, but she wasn’t sure. Taking with her the tool kit from the Volks, she lay on the groundsheet and removed the caps that were on either side of the engine. Using a feeler gauge, she checked the play of each valve, going from one side of the engine to the other, and she was pleased to note that no adjustment was necessary.

“Everything’s fine,” she told the man.

It was at least thirty degrees Celsius on the paved surface of the trailer park, and the last thing she felt like doing was a valve adjustment. On the other hand, she didn’t mind giving the engine a little tune-up and even an oil change. She had donned her old pair of shorts and a paint-smeared shirt whose tails were knotted over her bosom. In the nearest trailer, a man was watching her from the window.

She started by unscrewing the spark plugs and then, because they were carbonized, she replaced them with new ones, after she had adjusted the gap between the electrodes. Then she took off the distributor cap.

“Would you bring me my timing light?” she asked Jack. “I’ll be needing it in a minute. It’s in my big bag. At the bottom. Between two sweaters, probably.”