With their unique pen and their own sensitivity, artists present their vision of the world around us. This week, we are giving carte blanche to Mariana Mazza.
4:30 p.m. A Tuesday in October. I fall asleep to the sound of emptiness, the dogs glued to my chest, my nap for the day can begin.
4:50 p.m. My phone rings. Unknown number. I don’t want to answer, I’m too sleepy, but the automation of my hand slides the button to answer.
” Hello.
“Mariana?” It’s Michel Côté, I hope you’re well. Do you have two minutes?
– Yes… ”
I still don’t understand what is happening to me. This is a dream ? I didn’t really wake up? Is this my contractor? Who is Michael? Oh, my God. Michael. MICHAEL!
“MICHEL! HOW IS IT GOING ?
– Things are going well. Look Mariana, I won’t bother you for long. I just devoured your novel, as if it were a detective story. I thought I loved you, but I love you even more than I thought. Your pen, your way of telling things, your…”
A black space is created in my head. Like I was trying to figure out what was going on. I straighten up from the cushion where my head is well pressed. Michael Cote. The actor my mother has liked for so long. The actor I respect and worship since the movie CRAZYwhich to this day is my favorite Quebec film.
His call seems to me absurd, touching. As if I didn’t deserve all these honors. I often have the impression that I am a person like any other, who has no privileges because I like to be part of the people. Normal people. who pay their taxes. Who have fears, fears. Who line up at the checkout and take one drink too many when sadness takes over reason.
I am one of the normal people. Not ones that deserve a call from fucking Michael Cote. Even if he too is one of the normal people. People who have great careers, a family, sometimes worries.
I am one of the normal people, who sometimes have this chance. This small chance to have access to these people whom we admire. That we cross while zapping television sets saying to ourselves: “If I could meet him, I would tell him how I love him. »
I met several legends. I still come across it sometimes. On a platter. It’s organized. They didn’t ask me to be there. The production paired them with me because it’s going to be a good show of TV. Not because I’m on the list of people they want to see.
I shot my second film in life with Michel. We fell in love right away. As if it were my father, my brother. A simple man. Like the others. Kindly. Professional. Considerate. The gentleman you imagine is him. Better even than in your best thoughts.
I always felt like our connection was a real one. Not a passenger. Well anchored. As if we owed each other nothing because we had given ourselves everything.
I spoke with him on the phone for 22 and a half minutes. We flew over everything we could. I cried the tears of my body. Michel withdrew from public life to better heal. Because he is sick. Véronique and her children are there, always, do not let go.
We talked about the disease. Of death. Of life. Hope. Of love. Lots of love.
Before hanging up, he said to me, “Never stop writing. »
I said, “Don’t die, please. It’s too early. »
I love you, Michael.
More than I thought.