The Wonderers (Qui brille au combat)

Easy, sweetheart. Keep it down.

Will globalization abolish borders?

No. The opposite, don't you think?

- Bertille, eat. - Elaborate.

The faster the flow

of people, goods,

currency,

the more isolationist the individual states will become.

Bertille, you have to eat now.

You have to eat. Sit down.

Like all the walls going up?

Where's the pill?

The hell, Bertille!

Why'd you do that? Have you lost your mind?

Relax, she won't drown.

- It's stupid! - Or melt.

Now I have to change her.

That's enough!

Shit!

Oh, man!

Stay behind me.

Don't take sides!

Not that!

Good evening.

Hi!

What happened?

Nothing. Why?

Just wondering.

That's not funny to you?

No.

You're laughing.

THE WONDERERS

Shit. Bertille.

Sleeping like a baby.

She is a baby.

Can you picture her dreams?

I just tried, and I don't think we wanna know!

Right.

What'll happen?

How so?

You know what I mean.

When she dies?

- We never discuss it. - What's the point?

For Marion's sake.

She's 17, needs independence,

but she's holding back.

Isn't that enough?

Bertille.

Once upon a time,

a little monster

from another world,

was saved, just in time, from an angry mob of villagers

by a little girl who hid in the forest.

She looked at the monster and said,

"You're not a monster!

"No one knows you.

"When you were born,

"you were pink.

"When you grew up,

"you became white.

"When you go in the sun, you're red.

"When you're scared, you're green.

"When you're sick, you're yellow.

"Just like me."

What a mess!

I forgot to lock last night. Like an idiot.

Morning, Bertie-boo!

- Sleep well? - Not funny.

- It is, though. - Not really.

OK, I gotta run.

- I'm running late. - I'll clean up.

- You sure? - Yes!

- When's Dad back? - Dunno. Meet us at the beach?

What're you doing?

Don't leave stuff lying around.

- What does that mean? - It's lying around.

Seriously...

Don't eat that.

Your sister ate the plants

of the experiment you were responsible for?

That's what you're telling me?

Exactly. Just before I left earlier.

So your sister's a vegetarian.

Not only. It's more complicated than that, but...

yes.

Marion, are you taking me for a ride?

Not at all.

This is unlike you. Out.

We've gone in lots of times!

Bertille, easy.

There. We're in.

It's still warm.

What did she say?

- She kicked me out. - Excuse me?

Out of her class.

She's thick.

She talked to admin after. She apologized at the cafeteria.

It grates on me. Funny how...

Easy! I'm gonna fall!

Get her out!

Something's wrong.

- Keep her out. - Hold her head.

- You good? - I got her.

Keep her head afloat.

Goddammit!

Look out, a wave!

Go get help. I'll hold her.

Breathe.

They're on their way.

Five minutes.

It's over.

What happened?

We were in the water,

she must've slipped, we got her out right away.

Broken arm.

Above the wrist. We put a cast on her. She's asleep.

Does she often have seizures?

Not that often, 2 or 3 times a year.

But she has these awful pains and I'm helpless.

Nothing seems to work.

Keeping her here isn't ideal.

- We'd have to tie her down. - No way.

When she wakes up, I'll take her home.

You go home.

- Can I see her? - Sure. Across the hall.

You OK?

I thought I'd lost her.

I understand.

So when was Rett syndrome diagnosed?

Five years ago.

And before that?

Before that, she suddenly stopped babbling.

Then she stopped

using her hands. Then she stopped speaking.

We consulted everyone.

Every doctor.

Every psychologist.

And obtained this diagnosis

that offers no answer at all.

No one knows.

It's a label they stuck on her forehead.

She can die any second, and...

we make do with that.

She asleep?

Yes.

You eating?

You know...

I dream about her.

She talks to me.

She smiles at me.

We're always in landscapes

and places that are incredible...

Doing stuff together.

Like what?

We have fun. We go to bars.

We drink and dance.

But then...

I look at her,

and realize our lives revolve around her.

Feeding her, wiping her bottom, washing her, drying her.

I talk to her, she never answers.

That's it.

I hold her, she doesn't feel a thing.

So I feel like...

even death won't hurt her.

I understand.

Every morning, I have a knot in my stomach.

I think maybe she died in her sleep.

Her life hangs by a thread, every day's a miracle.

But when we bathe her, when she eats, she's present.

When we talk to her, she's in her world, but present.

And in order to cope,

know what I do?

I tell myself her world's wonderful.

And we're a part of it.

We're a part of it.

That's how I cope.

It's paradise out here!

- Paradise ? - That's right.

She's insane!

The water's nice!

You're nuts, Marion!

You hungry?

Yeah.

A little.

Be right back.

Here.

I hope it's your restaurant.

It is.

- Know it? - No.

You coming?

Where?

To my grandma's.

Is this a joke?

I can't see a thing.

I'm too drunk.

You miss every time!

High school senior?

How do you know?

I'm bored stiff.