The Panda Theory: Shocking, hilarious and poignant noir. Pascal Garnier

own massive weight. It trampled everything in its path: the fire engine, the white swan, the screeching mother with her hands cupped around her mouth, the town hall, the post office, the station, the whole town. Its dreary revolving existence had driven the elephant mad. The child and the elephant were one, a single ball of pure energy, out of control, hurtling through space, destroying everything in their path without remorse. They knew that this moment of freedom would be brief and so they made the most of it. Nothing could stop them while they were in orbit. It was at moments like this that you could kill somebody. You could kill somebody over nothing at all, because nothing was stopping you and you were too high to think about humanity.

      The merry-go-round slowed to a stop. It was over quickly. Gabriel stood up as he had got up from the bench at the station a few days earlier, with sticky hands.

      ‘Five shots, five balloons, the prize is yours.’

      The butt of the rifle was as cool and soft as Joan of Arc’s skin. It was easy; all you had to do was empty your mind. Kept aloft by an electric fan, the five dancing coloured balloons exploded one by one. Load, aim, fire … load, aim, fire. It was all over in less than three minutes.

      ‘Well done. You’re a fine shot, sir!’

      The stall holder resembled a badly restored china doll with her cracked make-up, bottle-blonde hair with dark roots, and thick red lipstick that had smeared onto her false teeth. Her glazed eyes, which had seen too much, were as lifeless as those of the hideous toy panda which she placed on the counter.

      ‘Your prize!’

      At the sight of the black and white animal with its outstretched arms and beaming smile, Gabriel took a step back.

      ‘No, no thank you. It’s fine.’

      ‘Go on! You’ve won it, you have to take it.’

      ‘No, I …’

      ‘When you win something, it’s yours. Give it to your children.’

      ‘I don’t have any.’

      ‘Well, you’d better get busy! Take it, go on. What am I supposed to do with it? I’m no thief. C’mon now, stop making a fuss.’

      ‘Well, okay then. Thank you.’

      It wasn’t that it was heavy – it was just difficult to carry. He didn’t know how to hold it. By the ear? By the paw? Or by wrapping his arms round the whole thing? As he walked past, people turned to stare, some smiling and others laughing outright. The cuddly toy didn’t care. It continued to gaze wide-eyed at its surroundings with the same fixed happy smile, regardless of which way up it was carried. And so Gabriel arrived at the Faro encumbered by his unwanted progeny. The metal shutter was pulled down, but he could see a light on inside. He knocked several times, the panda perched on his shoulders. Finally José appeared, unsteady on his feet and looking anxious.

      ‘Oh, it’s you. I forgot, I’m sorry. In you come.’

      The shutter rolled up slowly with the grating sound of rusty metal. It ground to a halt halfway up, exhausted, and Gabriel had to squeeze underneath. José looked as worn-out as Gabriel.

      ‘Is everything okay, José?’

      ‘Not really. What’s that?’

      ‘A panda. I won it at a shooting gallery. I thought the kids might like it.’

      ‘That’s kind of you. Come on in.’

      On the table in the back room the bottle of port stood next to an empty glass. Gabriel tossed the grinning panda onto a chair as José slumped on another. Though one was in a state of bliss and the other in despair, Gabriel couldn’t help but notice a resemblance between the two of them. He sat down and waited silently while José covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes and stubbly cheeks.

      ‘Do you want a drink? Shit, it’s empty. I’ll get another.’

      José didn’t move though. It was as if he was stuck to his chair, which was in turn welded to the floor. The room was silent except for José’s laboured nasal breathing, drawn up from the depths of his chest. Beside him, the panda, like a happy guest, sat waiting for dinner. The only thing it lacked was a napkin round its neck and a knife and fork in either paw. It was exactly the same size as José.

      ‘How’s Marie?’

      ‘Well, you know … It’s not a cyst. They don’t know what it is. She was sleeping. I mean … she’s in a coma. She looks so different, all yellow, her nose all pinched, and purple around her eyes. She’s got no mouth, just a small slit with a tube coming out. And all the machines in her room make noises like televisions that haven’t been tuned properly. They either don’t know what’s wrong with her or they just won’t tell me. I didn’t recognise her at first. I thought I’d got the wrong room.’

      His eyes filled with tears and his nose began to run. He was drowning from the inside. Gabriel lowered his head and traced the outline of a daisy on the tablecloth with his finger. She loves me, she loves me not …

      ‘Have you eaten?’ Gabriel asked.

      ‘No, I’m sorry, I completely forgot about you.’

      ‘Don’t worry. You need to eat something though.’

      ‘I’m not hungry.’

      ‘I could rustle something up. I know where everything is. Let me help.’

      ‘If you want. Thank you for coming. I don’t really know what I’m doing at the moment. There are some bottles under the sink. Let’s have a drink.’

      ‘I’ll go and get you one.’

      Pasta, tomatoes, tuna, onions and olives. Gabriel worked like a surgeon, his actions neat and precise. It was like being back at the shooting gallery. No need to think, just act. In the space of fifteen minutes the pasta bake was in the oven, he had laid the table and filled the glasses with wine. José had already emptied his twice and was staring mournfully at the panda.

      ‘What kind of animal is it? A bear?’

      ‘A panda.’

      ‘It’s big.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘The children love anything that’s big. It reassures them. I didn’t have the heart to go and see them after the hospital. I phoned them and said that everything was okay and that the four of us would be together again soon.’

      ‘You did the right thing.’

      ‘They didn’t believe me. “Papa, your voice is all funny,” they said. You can’t hide anything from kids. They’re cleverer than us. When I was a kid, I knew everything, well, most things. But now I don’t understand a thing. What’s the point of growing up? It’s stupid.’

      ‘I’ll get the pasta.’

      With his elbows on the table, José hoovered up his meal. The tomato sauce ran from the corners of his mouth, to his chin and down his neck. Like an ogre. Once finished, he pushed the empty plate away and burped, then wiped his mouth on his cuff.

      ‘Jesus, that was good! You’re hired. I’m not kidding. You’re hired, seeing as Marie …’

      José thumped the table. The bottle and glasses went flying. The panda slumped on its shoulder. José grabbed the stuffed animal and threw his head back. All you could see was his uvula going up and down like a yo-yo.

      ‘For God’s sake, why!?’

      He pounded the tablecloth with his fists. The panda rolled onto the floor. José collapsed forward, his forehead on the table, his arms dangling by his sides. His back began to shudder. Gabriel picked up the bottle and glasses.

      ‘We had everything we needed to be happy. Everything.’

      ‘I know.’

      José looked up and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He was