The Long Summer of Monsieur Loiseau

Christmas in 1940 was the dullest in Harry's memory, with hardly any celebration.The rationing imposed at the beginning of the year is still in place, butter has long since disappeared, and sugar is hard to come by, let alone chocolate.Fortunately, the nearby farmers still have enough cattle and poultry. They are never short of meat, potatoes and eggs, and occasionally they can buy a little precious milk and flour.However, with the arrival of winter, the supply of these scarce commodities has also been cut off.

Last year's decorations were scooped up: faded ribbons and crumpled paper flowers adorning mantels and dining tables, and they were all festive.The boys sneak into the normally locked storage room to explore the dusty treasure inside.Harry saw the missing parrot perch on a shelf against the wall, along with some rectangles covered with cloth.He lifted the dust-cloth to reveal paintings underneath, watercolours, of gardens and fountains, and another of a chapel, a cluster of green leaf buds suggesting a bright spring day.Both have a capital E signed in white paint in the lower right corner.Alex stood on tiptoe and looked over Harry's shoulder at some of the pictures.

"It was drawn by my mother."

"where is she?"

"nursing home."

"Is she sick?"

"Lung disease, I've been in a nursing home since I was very young. George told me, I don't remember her very well—look, here's the napkin ring." Alex dragged out a small wooden box, opened it, and took Picking up one of the silver objects carved with small snowflakes and holly leaves, he shook Harry.They sent the tinkling box to the kitchen, and Martha thanked them absently.She was preparing the batter for an apple pie, her hands covered in egg whites.

On the morning before Christmas, everyone packed into the shabby little movie theater in town, waiting to see the first newsreel in half a year.Harry sat between George and Alex, fascinated by the black and white images on the screen.It started with the Prime Minister's speech to the House of Commons, which they had heard more than once on the radio, but it was even more exhilarating with the moving images; Royal Engineers for supplies, and fighter pilots running across the tarmac.

Seeing this, George got up and left the auditorium.

Alex stood up too, trying to follow him out, and the audience behind him made impatient noises.The Baron Loiseau took his youngest son and made him sit down. "Let him go," whispered the Baron. "George just needs some fresh air."

They found George on the pier after the screening, sitting alone on the edge of the jetty, looking out over the harbor.In the past, small fishing boats and cruise ships with colorful flags were moored here, as well as ferries to Portsmouth.But these civilian ships have now been replaced by ships waiting to be repaired, some have been refurbished, most still have terrible gaps from the bombs, and they are listed to varying degrees.There is a small cart on the shore, the kind that sells cotton candy and other small snacks. The paint is still bright, but it is full of garbage, and the wheels have been removed by someone.George smiled that specious smile again as the boys ran up to him, draped his coat over his arm, and let Alex grab his hand and lead him back to the car.

No one spoke on the way back.

Christmas dinner was no different from a normal dinner, except for an extra dessert that was put together with great difficulty, a different set of cutlery, and a white cotton napkin with a small snowflake napkin ring.The boys were solemnly warned not to spill the sauce on it because "for God's sake, you can't buy soap anywhere".The blackout was still in effect, the curtains were drawn tightly and the corners carefully sealed so that no light could escape, since there was no guarantee that there would be no air raids on Christmas Eve.The five candles were all the light sources, which only illuminated the first third of the long table, and most of the dining room was submerged in shadows.At Alex's urging, George sat down at the piano by the window and played "Hear the Angels Sing", then "Quiet Night" and even a short "Run, Run Rabbit" to accompany the boys. , before closing the lid, claiming that any other music was beyond his reach.

The boys were herded back to their bedrooms before the eggnog was served because the clock had struck eleven, well past the usual bedtime, and objections were futile.The old-fashioned fireplace in the bedroom was on, but Harry was still shivering as he changed into his pajamas.He crawled under the covers and took out his mother's handkerchief from under the pillow.The smell of roses was gone, like a spell, and the handkerchief became an ordinary object, indistinguishable from other objects.Harry held the handkerchief in his hand and huddled under the blanket and comforter, trying to warm up as quickly as possible.

-

"The last time I spent Christmas with my family was in 1938. My father bought a holly tree, so small, I remember him bringing it home under his arm, like it was a broom with leaves. We removed the armchairs and put the tree by the window. Mum and I spent the afternoon hanging decorations on it - there were no beautiful little bulbs in a string back then, we used ribbon and colored paper. Mum Baked cakes and gingerbreads of various sizes, mostly to give to neighbors and show off her own craft. My mission was mostly to run around the kitchen and living room stealing whatever was edible. We put extra large A piece of cake was given to the Butler family across the door. Their son hadn’t joined the army in 38. If I remember correctly, he worked in a trading company, imported tea, and was an ordinary clerk.”

"And candy, candy is an important boundary marker, Mr. Rivers, divided my world into a 'before' and a 'after'. 'Before', as long as you want to eat, there is always, the biggest trouble is How to save a few pennies and not spend them. I simply can't imagine that these good things will disappear in the next seven years, but then again, no one can imagine that predicting the future is very difficult for our barren little brains. It's so unfair." Prudence tapped his right temple with his index finger.

The reporter smiled politely.

"George left early the next morning, about six o'clock. I would not have known it had it not been for the chime of the clock that woke me up. Saw the second half. George had changed into his uniform and looked older than his age. I watched him say goodbye to Martha, get into the passenger seat, and drive away down the gravel road. It was a lot more I won't see George again until the next year."

"Other than that, it was an ordinary morning. There was no one in the kitchen and no fresh bread because the cook had gone home. I ate some cold meat left over from last night and went to the sunroom as usual, but It was really cold there, so I went upstairs to the study. The stairs on the west side are usually very gloomy, but it is even more terrifying in the winter morning. I always thought I heard footsteps behind me, so I ran all the way to the fireplace in the study. Just stopped before."

"My original plan was to read books, and I've almost finished "Inmensee", and now it seems that this novel is a bit ominous, 'I used to know about that water lily, but it was a long, long time ago', like A pre-arranged sad prophecy--I can see that you don't believe in this mystical madness, Mr. Rivers, and neither did I when I was young. Anyway, I didn't find my book, but I found Alex Max's notebook, under the French textbook."

"I understand I should have left the notebook where it was and pretended I didn't notice it, but I was curious and the fact that the house was quiet like no one lived in it gave me a little courage I shouldn't have. I put Pull out the notebook and open it."

"Alex's handwriting is always neat, much more organized than mine, the lowercase h's and f's are drawn out, and if written in a hurry, like a tangle of thin wire, I've never been able to read him The occasional scribbled note left on the bedside table, and every time I complained, he would say 'Harry, I'll write it on your face next time'." Prudence shook his head slightly, smiling at the window, eyes The fine lines around it became more pronounced, "I digressed, did I? Yes. Alex wrote a story in that little notebook, and I think it was his first work, at least seriously The first one that came down. He described a house built in the wilderness, surrounded by roses and oak trees. There lived a family named Medved. They tended roses every day and cultivated new varieties. Everything was fine, Except for one odd thing."

"One stormy day, the window of the living room was blown open, and the rain soaked the carpet. Mr. Mayweed, cleaning the carpet, found a few gray feathers, 'perhaps a shelter bird,' he thought, and Didn't pay much attention to it. However, after a few days, strange noises started to appear in the house. It sounded like some kind of animal with claws running on the wooden floor. At first this sound only appeared on rainy days, and later it appeared no matter the weather, Once, the daughter of the Medved family even saw a flash of black shadow."

"The whole family searched the house, even the smallest corner, but found nothing. The strange sound of claws scraping on the ground would appear once night fell, and when someone ran upstairs with a candlestick to check, it disappeared without a trace. Gradually, no one dared to talk about this monster that never showed up, let alone catch it, but it became the shadow of everyone."

"One morning, the eldest son of the Medved family disappeared. No warning, no trace."

"I was so engrossed I didn't even hear when Alex came in and he snatched the notebook out of my hand and pushed me so hard I nearly fell to the floor. He was holding on to the notebook, Before I could speak, he strode over to the fireplace and threw the notebook into the fire."

"The Meveds and the monster with claws are gone forever."

"He left and didn't talk to me after that day, and pretended not to see me even when he ate at the same table. He didn't come to my room anymore, and he didn't show up in the sunroom. Sometimes I saw him with ink. Chully was walking in the garden, and he never looked up, and I don't know if he noticed me looking at him."

Prudence took a long breath and looked at the back of his hand.

"Snow and rain fell on the last day of December, and 1940 ended."

tbc.