Problemes ethniques aux usa
At seven O’clock, when everything was finished, I left my hiding place and arrived face to face with the exhausted doctor who was wiping his forehead.
He saw me, stared at me, recognized me, was surprised and tells me:
“Well…! And you?”
There was a huge surprise in his voice and we could also hear a vague reproach.
By the way, he also tells me:
“What are you doing here?”
This “What are you doing here?” doesn’t mean “What are you doing behind the counter?” No, it meant: “What are you still alive?”
Indeed, Why was not I dead like everyone else?
Then he told me:
“Are you hurt?”
“Not at all.”
“How is that possible?”
And now, he was looking me as I was a phenomenon or the devil. This twelve years old boy who was swallowing poisonous fungi and healthy, the only one who survived in his family, that was interesting for the doctor. This was the perfect bargain to make experiments. I felt like if he were already dissecting my organs, so I told him the truth:
“I do not eat any of them”
“Why?”
This “why?” came incredibly quick. Probably, this was a default in this job, but I can swear that he told with some kind of reproach in his voice.
Because he was repeating “Why? Why?” I told him everything, my crime and the punishment I had for.
With a smile, he made me a blink which seems to mean:” Well