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Adonis Blue (5) 1 2
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Adonis Blue (5)
by Meg Grace
Chapter Three
"Jeanne
d'Arc — the bewitching beautiful boy with a name of a sacred virgin-he
came into this world without a real name or kin, wanders without a home,
ruins women who fall in love with him — but he has never loved someone
from his heart," Eugene murmured alone.
In
order to look after his mother who had gone insane, he left his prestigious
public school, and led a life taking care of Marie in this estate like
a solitary castle.
Marie
didn't understand herself or her son, constantly moving between laughter
and tears. If he took his eyes off her, she started to overflow or topple
every single container of water which caught her eye, in an attempt to
submerge the estate. Eugene soothed and consoled Marie and nursed her
without making any grimaces.
Since
that day, the telephone calls, letters and visits to ask for an interview
with the grand prix artist had never ceased. Eugene declined each of them
politely one after another, replying that he was now on a journey.
"Nevertheless
we are friends. Jeanne, you still stay by my side, in my heart —
yes, forever and ever.
Jeanne, you are the only one who will survive this deracine.
You
will be alive even if the world perishes, — of course even if my
body is blown apart in pieces.
Jeanne, — deracine is you"
After
leaving another woman lunatic, Jeanne didn't stay at any houses and didn"t
eat anything for weeks.
One
day he reeled down a street and strayed off into a lane allured by an
aromatic smell.
What he saw there was a large amount of breads which was piled up casually.
He couldn't resist his hunger and reached for one piece of the heap of
breads. A savoury aroma peculiar to bread, and warmth which is faintly
left.
The moment he lost his patience and tried to snap at the loaf, something smashed down on his head; he fainted and fell on the ground with a dull thud.
"You
sneak! You scoff my bread freely." With a rolling pin in his hand
a boy looked down on Jeanne who was still lying on the ground.
"Oh dear brother, this guy's not bad, cos this is just waste bread"
"No matter if it's for wastes or whatever. A sneak is a sneak"
The girl placed both her hands on the ground and looked at the side of
his face.
"...oh, dear, this is..."
"What's up Crystal? ...Gee, this is just a kid"
Jeanne
awoke to find himself in a warm bed. Raising his upper body in surprise,
he caught a boy and a girl like his little sister looking at him anxiously.
"Wow, he woke up at last! Thank goodness! I'll get a meal for him"
She left the room in a hurried way.
"How's
your feeling? Sorry for my knocking ya down a while ago, but I'd mistaken
ya as a sneak"
The boy, Ken, was sixteen, the same age as Jeanne. He had taken over the
small bakery after his father died, and ran it with his sick mother and
his sister Crystal, who was four years younger than him..
"Your look tells ya haven't had food for a long time, doesn't it?
Guess what, my sister, Crystal, has kept telling me you're poor and we
gotta take care of ya. She's been nursing ya all night without sleep."
Just
then, coming up the creaking stairs, the girl returned to the room with
a tray in her hands.
"Here you go, you must be hungry, eh? Here you are, eat as much as
you like"
When
he tried to reach a spoon, she took the spoon and scooped the soup, breathed
on it eagerly and brought to his mouth.
A sweet flavour and savour of pumpkin. The nutritious, warm liquid moistened
his throat after a long thirst.
"Yum"
was the word that unwittingly escaped from him. She smiled broadly. It
was a pure and simple smile. She then tore a piece from the still warm
loaf of bread, put butter on it, and brought it to him.
The flavour was intense. The more he chewed the more the warm sweetness
spread in his mouth; it had a savour of robust wheat.
"How's
that? Yummy?"
Her words made him nod.
"This bread is specially baked at our shop by my brother"
"Crystal, I'm still trainin". It's not yet a match for my dead
father's taste at all"
As
could be seen from their worn clothes and the condition of the room, it
was clear that their family was hardly in an affluent situation. They
however wouldn't listen to his hesitation, and invited him to board there.
"It's for apology for knocking you down with the rolling pin"
So said Ken and never heard Jeanne.
A
baker's day begins early. Ken and others get up before dawn and start
preparation. Ken takes full responsibility for baking a large amount of
breads and buns, and his mother and Crystal arrange them in the shop.
Crystal helps in early mornings before she goes to school, and she also
helps shopkeeping after school.
Jeanne strolled around in this hectic scene at a loose end. It was unwise for him as a tyro to help; it would merely end up with de trop. In spite of their poverty, the family lived happily together in a small way, and spared no effort to share with others. In addition to meals for him, they provided their garage for a place to paint. What could he do for them as a gratitude, he thought to himself.
At
one supper table he brought in a proposal.
"Would you please let me redecorate this shop?"
Ken got cold feet at the surprise offer. "Is that really a need in
the world? Jeanne, it's bread that counts."
"Dear
Jeanne, how come you ask us to do such a thing?" Crystal questioned
him innocently.
"I see what ya mean, Ken, but, though I know it's rude for me an
outsider to put my oar in that, you're not quids in now, are you?"
Everyone hushed up.
"Ken,
I know your real hand for bread very well. So I want many more people
to come to the shop and buy your bread, Ken. The taste of bread is never
known until you buy and taste it. Hence it occurred to me it may be better
to redecorate the shop so many more customers could drop by the shop."
"Let's leave it to this specialist" their mother opened her mouth. "If we don't do anything, nothing will change; but you never know what happens unless we try it."
Jeanne
had realised the flaws in the design of this shop ever since he first
saw it. The shop's location wasn't bad, yet it was dull as a whole and
the colour of the facade wasn't set off to attract attention. The atmosphere
of the entrance made it somehow feel difficult to come in, and possibly
because of the former master's taste, stubbornness appears in all lines
of the decor.
He
elaborated a design as inexpensive as possible. Crystal took it upon herself
to help him. They bought in paints and cloths; Crystal herself ran the
sewing machine, the two painted the walls after hours and dies non, and
carried out the facelift little by little. While the construction of the
building wasn't changed to the utmost in order to hold down expenses,
the colours were changed from dark ones to white and cream for base and
to gingham in red and white for accent. The position of showcases was
shifted a little so they could be seen from the outside, and neat objects
and potted plants were placed about. The cramped entrance was made open,
enhanced with vivid green plants.
It was certainly the first time for Jeanne, who had only painted pictures on canvases, to take on the design of a shop. Nevertheless, his instinctive sense of art was fully demonstrated. And Crystal helped to execute the plan very well. She understood what he meant to a great extent, and helped him to finely realise the vision in his head. The two smiled at each other's painted faces over the smallest things.
One
day on the way back from shopping, the two were walking homeward with
facelift materials and tools in bulky bags.
"One more for the road"
As something told the two of them, they took away two bottles of hot chocolate
at a near fast food shop and sat down on the riverbank by the road.
(Continued
Overleaf)
