47- Next morning

The next morning, we were no longer in the mood. It was too cold. The girls were whining non-stop.

I had tried to entertain them by playing prehistoric men.

"Watch closely how prehistoric men prepared their Nesquik bowls... They put the milk saucepan on the fire, yes, exactly like that... And their toast? Nothing easier, a piece of bread on a grill, and voila, over the fire..."

But be careful! Not for too long, huh? Otherwise, it'll turn into charcoal. Who wants to play prehistoric men with me?

They didn't care, they weren't hungry. What they wanted was their crappy television.

I got frustrated. Marion cried when she heard me yelling and Lucie spilled her glass of milk on the couch.

I sat down and put my hands on my head.

I dreamt of being able to unscrew it, place it on the floor in front of me, and give it a big kick that would send it rolling as far away as possible.

So far away that no one could ever find it. But I can't even kick properly.

I wouldn't hit it, for sure.

Pierre arrived at that very moment.

He apologized, explaining that he couldn't reach me earlier because there was no phone line, and waved a bag of hot croissants in front of the girls.

They laughed. Marion looked for his hand and Lucie offered him a prehistoric coffee.

"A prehistoric coffee? With pleasure, Miss Sweetie Pie! It brought tears to my eyes."

He put his hand on my knee.

"Chloé... are you okay?"

I wanted to tell him no, that I wasn't okay at all, but I was so happy to see him again that I answered the opposite.

"The bakery has electricity, so it can't be a blackout. I'll investigate what's going on... Hey, girls, look, it's such wonderful weather! Get dressed, we're going mushroom picking. After all the rain yesterday, there must be lots!"

The "girls" also included me... We went up the stairs giggling.

Eight years old, what a fun age.

We walked to Devil's Mill. An eerie house that has fascinated children for generations.

Pierre explained to the girls the holes in the walls.

"That's a horn... and those marks there, his hooves..."

"Why did he hit his hooves on the walls?"

"Oh... That's a long story... Because he was very angry that day..."

"Why was he very angry?"

"Because his prisoner had escaped."

"And who was his prisoner?"

"The baker's daughter."

"Not Mrs. Pécaut's daughter?"

"No, of course not, not his daughter! Rather, his great-great-grandmother."

"Really?"

I taught the girls how to make pretend kitchens with acorns. We found an empty nest, pebbles, pine cones. We picked wild daffodils and broke hazel branches. Lucie collected moss for her dolls and Marion didn't get off her grandfather's shoulders.

We found two mushrooms. Both looked suspicious!

On the way back, we heard the blackbird singing and the intrigued voice of a girl asking:

"But why did the devil capture Mrs. Pécaut's great-great-grandmother?"

"Don't you guess?"

"No."

"Well, because he had a sweet tooth!"

Lucie hit the ferns with her stick to scare away the devil.

And me, what could I hit with my stick?

"Chloé?"

"Yes."

"I wanted to tell you... I hope... Well, I would actually like... Yes, that's it, I would like... I would like for you to come back to this house because... I know you love it so much... You've done so many things here... In the rooms... In the garden... Before you came, there was no garden, you know? Promise me you'll come back. With or without the girls..."

I turned to him.

"No, Pierre. You know very well that I won't."

"And your rosebush? What was it called, I can't remember? That rosebush you planted there last year..."

"Blushing nymph's thigh."

"Yes, that's it. You liked it so much..."

"No, I liked the name... Look, things are already difficult enough..."

"I'm sorry, I apologize."

"But what about you? Will you take care of it?"

"Of course! Blushing nymph's thigh, imagine... How could I not take care of it?"

It felt a bit forced.

On our way home, we met old Marcel on the road returning from the town. His bicycle zigzagged dangerously. By some miracle, he managed to stop without falling. He sat Lucie on the saddle and offered us the last of the day's wine.

Mrs. Marcel kissed the girls from head to toe and placed them in front of the TV with a bag of candies on their laps. "She has satellite, mom! Can you believe it? A channel that only shows cartoons!"

Hallelujah.

Going to the middle of nowhere, jumping hedges, fences, ditches, holding our noses, crossing old Marcel's yard, and watching Teletoon while eating gummy bears!

Sometimes life is wonderful...

The storm, mad cows, the European Union, hunting, the dead and the living... At one point, Pierre asked:

"Tell me, Marcel, do you remember my brother?"

"Who? Paul? Of course, I remember that rascal... He drove me crazy with his whistles. He even fooled me while we were hunting! He made me hear birds that aren't even from around here! The little rascal! The dogs were the ones going crazy! Of course, I remember him! He was a good lad... He used to go to the forest with my father... We had to teach him everything, explain everything... Oh my goodness! He asked so many questions! He said he wanted to study to work in the forests. I remember my father used to tell him, 'but you don't need studies for that, lad! What can teachers teach you that I can't?' And he wouldn't answer, he said it was to see all the forests in the world, to see the world, to take a trip to Africa and Russia, but then, he would come back here and tell us everything."

Pierre listened, nodding gently, encouraging him to continue talking.

Mrs. Marcel got up. She came back with a sketchbook in her hand.

"This is what the child, well, he wasn't a child anymore then, gave me one day to thank