I walked toward a tree a little way off from the garden. The tree was large, but somewhat unusual: around it, there was nothing but grass for at least twenty meters. Beneath the tree sat a young girl, her head buried in her arms. I think her name was Yvonne, a name completely outdated by time itself. Yet I didn't know why, but with her, that name fit perfectly, as naturally as a letter in the mail. Maybe it was because of her hair… yes, definitely because of her hair.
She had one very noticeable feature: part of her hair was black, the other part white. It was as if a single strand had been black on top and white underneath. The combination wasn't terrible on its own, but for children, it invited teasing, even bullying. I think that's what she had endured. If she was sitting alone like that, it wasn't by accident. Social exclusion… that's the risk when everyone turns their back on you.
I started walking closer when she lifted her head from her arms and looked me straight in the eyes. There was a hint of fear and suspicion in her gaze, but it suggested she wasn't actually afraid of me. She said simply:
— Y-You… who are you? And what do you want from me?
Her tone betrayed a lack of familiarity with talking to someone. I just looked at her and replied in a friendly voice, with a cheerful smile:
— I'm Pierre! And to answer your question, I'd like us to team up, you and me.
At those words, without meaning to, I stepped back, tripped, and fell, rolling over onto the ground. I was on the floor. Yvonne got up and began walking quickly toward me:
— A-Are you okay?
She seemed a little stressed, almost unable to understand the situation.
— Yes, yes, don't worry, I'm just not very skilled! I said with a small smile at the corner of my lips.
She reached out her hand to help me. I accepted her gesture and extended mine. As I got to my feet, I looked her straight in the eyes with an innocent, joyful smile. When she helped me up, she let go of my hand and turned away. A small smile lingered at the corner of her lips, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.
But if she had turned at that very moment, she would have seen me cold, without a smile. I was already thinking ahead. When she turned back to face me, I restored my bright smile. On closer inspection, one could notice another factor of social isolation: her eyes. One was blue, the other green.
She was taller than me, about one meter sixty-eight. Her features were delicate. I almost wondered why she was alone, because she was genuinely pretty, both in face and figure. Noticing she was staring at me, I said:
— So, would you like to join my group?
My tone was calm and steady, as if we had known each other for a long time.
She looked at me, confused. Like at our first meeting, she stepped back a few paces, then began fidgeting with her hands, almost like a nervous tic. In a trembling, almost scared voice, she said:
— Why me? I'm useless. I didn't even know your name five minutes ago! So why are you being so nice to me, huh? You're going to abandon me like everyone else!
Her words revealed lingering trauma. To her, it was a flaw. To me, it was an opportunity.
Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. I put on a worried look for her, almost pretending to cry. I stepped closer and embraced her. She wept heavily on my shoulder, while a smile appeared on my face. In a very sad, understanding voice, still wearing my little smile she couldn't see, I said:
— I chose you because, to me, you are valuable. No one is useless in life. And I'm kind to you because, to me, you're worth it!
I cupped her face in my hands as I said this. Her eyes sparkled, tears streaming into my palms. As I wiped them away, she laughed and said:
— Well, if that's the case, Pierre… I'll gladly join your team!
One could see that laugh with one of those unforgettable smiles… though I wasn't sure she was giving it to the right person.
Because my first card was already in my hands. And I still had nine more to collect.
Of course, I didn't know if Yvonne was lying to me. What I had done could be called deception: playing with emotions. It was easily noticeable. But Yvonne's behavior was also a bit strange. For a shy, unsocial girl, agreeing so easily was suspicious. People like her are often too wary. Either she was truly naive, or she had planned something… But I would see how she acted during the next recruitments to test my theory.
— Now that you've accepted my offer, let's find the rest of our group, I said.
— Okay, Pierre. But who will we take for our team? she asked seriously.
Seeing that serious expression on her face, my theory had to be partly right. There was still wariness toward me, but also a hint of trust in her tone. She was hiding something inside. But what?
— I have an idea, at least for the boys.
— Really? So you knew for me too?
— Yes and no. For the boys, I knew exactly whom to choose. But for the girls… I'm not really sure. Let's say you were a lucky pick.
She looked at me suspiciously. I think she was gradually starting to understand my true nature. I might need to change my approach to make her doubt.
— As for you, I saw you alone, and you reminded me of myself. So I just came to see you.
She said nothing. We continued walking toward the center of the garden, where all the other cards were. I pointed at them and said:
— Here are our next companions: Ousmane, Victor, Charlie, Maxime!
They were all there, amid others, themselves looking for their future group.
— Are you sure they'll all agree to join our team?
— The real question is, why wouldn't they? I replied confidently.
She looked at me, then said:
— I think you're a little too confident! Maybe it worked with me, but with the others, it'll be completely different.
— Of course it'll be different. But don't worry.
In her eyes, one could see she wasn't entirely satisfied with my answer. I could understand, if I put myself in her place… but she was wrong. From another perspective, these four boys were either very lonely or socially excluded like Yvonne, but in different ways.
Yvonne hadn't chosen them, but I was sure some had self-excluded consciously. Why? That, I didn't know yet.
Yvonne knew I had a carefully prepared plan, but she couldn't prove it. So instead, she simply said:
— Who do we start with?
Her voice was soft, almost gentle. Yet there was something odd in the resonance of her words, as if she were waiting for my answer with an idea in mind.
— We'll start with Ousmane! Then Charlie, then Victor, and finally Maxime!
— Why that exact order? she asked, curiosity in her eyes. It was almost touching.
— Just because! There's no real order. But seeing how sought-after Ousmane and Charlie are, I figured we should hurry to get them.
— You know, Pierre, you're really strange. You don't see the world like we do, but more like a big puzzle to solve.
We had arrived near the middle entrance of the garden. Everyone was there. But her comment lingered in my mind. She too didn't take her eyes off me, searching for an answer. I sighed and said, still calm and smiling, to hide my true intentions:
— Perhaps you misunderstood. I may see the world differently than you, but our visions aren't so far apart. I see myself mostly as a bird that has been caged too long. Now that I have an opening, I'll do everything to escape and fly to freedom.
My speech was clear and precise. I wanted to liberate her.
She looked at me with a small smile and said:
— I didn't know my captain craved freedom, haha!
— Why are you laughing? I didn't say anything funny.
— No, don't worry. All of this makes me quite nervous. I was afraid of encountering shady or dangerous people… I'm glad I found you!
She smiled at me, her cheeks slightly pink. For her, smiling with so much enthusiasm must have felt strange: just three days ago, everything was different.
Well, I'll spare the details, but recruiting these four people proved endlessly tedious. The hardest to convince was Ousmane: he is very tall, very strong, and thus highly sought-after. Luckily, I had Yvonne with me, otherwise it would have been far more complicated.
If I had to describe him, Ousmane is a Black man of Malian origin. He's in the orphanage because his parents couldn't make it to this country. Since he has no family here, he must stay in the orphanage until he turns twenty. But at eighteen, like all of us here, it's not so strange if you think about it. He's about one meter ninety, an impressive stature.
The second hardest to recruit was Maxime. Not because he was sought-after, no, but because he was hard to find. He's a discreet person, not very tall, with short blonde hair and glasses. His eyes are stunning: a mix of blue, green, and a hint of brown. I hadn't seen him in the main garden, so I suspected he was on the sidelines, observing from a distance. We had to search for him and then negotiate at length. He's stubborn and clever, but eventually, we succeeded.
For Charlie and Victor, it was much simpler than I expected. Of course, there were some negotiations, but nothing difficult. In total, recruiting the four boys took us barely fifteen minutes. That left us about five minutes to find four girls.
We stood there. Everyone was talking except me, silent. Sometimes, I wondered if I was so rarely noticed that maybe… I didn't even exist. I don't know if I'm imagining things thinking like this, but ultimately, I often feel terribly alone in this vast world.
I observed them, then stepped slightly aside. Turning to face them, I said simply:
— Alright, we still need four girls. We'll split into pairs, or go alone, to find three… and we absolutely must recruit Carine, understood?
They all looked at me, confused by my last sentence. Charlie spoke first:
— Sorry to ask, but why do we have to take Carine?
They stared at me with completely puzzled expressions.
Charlie was very tall, one meter eighty-eight, with brown hair almost black in tone. He wore reading glasses in the front pocket of his champagne-red shirt. He was calm, composed… but a little naive.
— I know, Pierre, that you recruited us, but that doesn't mean you're the leader! said Victor, in a calm tone, still staring at me as if trying to understand… or analyze me.
Victor was short, almost dwarf-like compared to the others, barely one meter sixty-five. His black hair was always neatly combed, his yellow eyes striking, and he wore classic clothes.
I replied immediately:
— Trust hasn't yet been established in this group, I know that. But Carine could be useful to us. So trust me, just this once.
I said this with a serious expression, keeping a faint smile at the corner of my lips.
Maxime immediately responded:
— Okay, I'm on board with this decision!
Ousmane looked at him and said:
— Earlier, you were halfway ready to spit at him when he convinced you… and now you change your mind so quickly?
Ousmane, despite his impressive build, wasn't born yesterday.
Maxime glanced at him, then turned to me and said aloud:
— I like you, you know. I admit, I don't like Pierre, but he's far from stupid. He's even too smart to hang out with us… so he must have a plan.
They all turned to me and said at once:
— Okay, we're in!
But one could see some doubt in Ousmane and Charlie's eyes, suspicion in Victor's… As for Yvonne, she stayed silent, as if thinking something over. Maxime had eloquence, but I knew he was hiding his true intentions.
Yvonne then spoke:
— I have an idea for one of the girls. And I'd like Maxime to come with me.
— Okay, of course. But who is this girl? I asked.
Yvonne paused a moment, then said simply:
— Come on, Maxime, we need to hurry.
Ousmane, Victor, and Charlie stared at me. Then Ousmane spoke:
— Alright. We'll take care of Carine and another girl, got it? You, Pierre, must find at least two.
— Okay, understood.
Everyone headed in their direction. I watched them leave—my future cards. A sense of joy began to fill me… but other thoughts immediately brought me back to reality.
I turned and headed toward the small chapel in the park. My next move awaited there.
I hope God isn't watching, because here… I'm about to corrupt a human being.
A sinister smile appeared at the corner of my lips as I approached the chapel.
May God protect this little lamb from the righteous path.
End of this episode.
Thank you for reading.