Chapter 3 - Briarford Village -
That morning, after Elias left for the station, Mirelle opened the Valebryn family shop as usual. Lucien followed a little while later, carrying the harvest from the garden.
He set several baskets of vegetables and fruit inside the shop. The apples he had picked yesterday afternoon had already been separated the night before. Some would be sold, while others had been deliberately set aside to give to people they knew.
Mirelle took over the work at the shop that morning.
“Are you taking them now?”
she asked when she saw Lucien checking the baskets of apples again.
“Yeah. I also want to buy some milk and eggs from Finn later.”
“Then don’t come home too late.”
Lucien nodded. He took the apples that had been separated into individual bags and placed them in the two large baskets mounted on the left and right sides of the back of his bicycle.
After making sure everything was secure and wouldn’t fall during the trip, he stood in front of the shop with his hands on the handlebars.
“If anyone needs something from the garden, just write it down. I’ll deliver it later.”
“All right. Be careful on the road.”
Lucien nodded, then began pedaling away from the shop.
The morning air was still cool. The streets of Briarford were slowly growing busier as residents opened their homes and shops. Lucien raised a hand several times to return the greetings of people he knew.
His first destination was the home of Rosaline Evette Hartwell and her husband, Gareth Alden Hartwell, located not far from Briarford Elementary School.
When he arrived, Rosaline and Gareth were getting ready to leave. Several books and sheets of assignments were already in their hands.
“Good morning, Mrs. Rose, Mr. Gareth.”
They both turned toward him.
“Good morning to you, too. What brings you here, Lucien?” Gareth asked.
“I brought you some apples.”
Lucien took a bag of fruit from his basket and handed it to Rosaline.
“Apples? Are these from the tree in front of your house?”
Gareth smiled when he saw them.
“Yes, they are. The tree is producing an incredible amount of fruit.”
“You always bring something from the garden whenever you visit.”
Rosaline accepted the apples and examined them for a moment.
“Thank you, Lucien. We’ll take some to school later. The children will love them.”
Lucien smiled.
“Please do, Mrs. Rose.”
Rosaline then looked at him.
“How is Elias? Has he left already?”
“He has. He was afraid he’d miss the morning train.”
Gareth let out a quiet laugh.
“At least he knows how to tell time now.”
“But he still doesn’t know the time when he’s reading,” Lucien replied.
Rosaline smiled.
“Looks like his childhood habit hasn’t changed.”
Lucien nodded. He wasn’t particularly surprised. Elias had always been intensely curious, even when they were still sitting in the same classrooms at school.
Rosaline then asked, “How is Mirelle doing?”
“Mom’s fine. She’s watching the shop this morning.”
“Give her my regards. I’m sorry I still haven’t had the chance to visit her again.”
“It’s all right. Mom will understand. I’ll pass along your regards when I get home.”
Gareth put several apples into his bag.
“Then we should get going. The students will start arriving soon.”
Lucien nodded.
“Have a nice day.”
“You too, Lucien. Thanks for the apples.”
He returned to his bicycle and continued on his way.
There were still several places he wanted to visit before returning to the shop. The basket on the right side of his bicycle was gradually becoming lighter, while the one on the left was still full of apples prepared for the people he would visit next.
After leaving Mr. and Mrs. Hartwell’s home, Lucien continued toward the clinic owned by Mrs. Helena Whitmore.
The wooden sign reading “Helena Clinic” still hung above the door. The place had not opened yet, but Helena was already out in the yard.
She was tidying several medicinal plants growing along the fence. A bucket of water sat near her feet, while she held a watering can in her hands.
Lucien slowed his bicycle and stopped in front of the fence.
“Good morning, Mrs. Helena.”
Helena turned around and immediately recognized the voice. She smiled.
“Good morning, Lucien. Out making your rounds this early? What brings you here?”
“I just came from Mr. and Mrs. Hartwell’s house after delivering them some apples. I was planning to share some with you, too.”
Lucien got off his bicycle and took a bag of apples from the basket.
“Apples? Are these from the tree in your yard?”
“Yes, we just harvested them yesterday afternoon.”
“You can really see the difference between your apples and the ones I usually see at the markets. That tree has borne fruit many times, but the quality of these apples is still excellent. You must be very good at choosing seeds.”
“Our father planted that tree.”
Lucien smiled.
“We’re just continuing to take care of it.”
Helena looked at the apples and smiled warmly.
“The fruit is just as good as its owner, isn’t it?”
She carried the apples to the small porch in front of the clinic and set them on the table.
“Would you like to come inside first? There’s still time before the patients arrive.”
“No, thank you. I still have to deliver these apples to a few more places.”
Helena looked at the baskets on Lucien’s bicycle. One side was clearly still fuller than the other.
She took the opportunity to ask before Lucien got back on his bicycle.
“How is your mother?”
“Still the same as always. She keeps pushing herself.”
“She really doesn’t need to go that far, but the Mirelle I’ve known all these years has always been like that. She’s sick, but she doesn’t want anyone to see it. She doesn’t want to burden the people around her.”
“That’s how she is. I just want Mom to get more rest, but she always says she’s fine and still strong enough to do everything herself.”
Helena nodded as she understood the situation Lucien had described.
“Well, if your mother needs anything, just let me know.”
“All right, Mrs. Helena.”
Lucien climbed onto his bicycle, preparing to continue to his next destination.
“Thank you for the apples, Lucien! Give my regards to your mother!”
Helena raised her voice slightly.
From a distance, Lucien answered with a wave.
After leaving Helena’s clinic, Lucien continued toward the Alder family shop. It was a little farther from the center of the village, near their family farm.
The distinctive scent of the farm reached him from a distance, mingling with the fragrance of grass still damp from the morning dew.
Lucien parked his bicycle in front of the small shop attached to the Alder family home. Several bottles of milk were neatly arranged at the front, along with cheese, margarine, and several small containers of yogurt. A few baskets of eggs had also been arranged on the table.
“Finn!”
A young man appeared from the back of the shop carrying a basket of eggs.
“Lucien?”
Finn set the basket on the table and immediately came over.
“You came after all. I thought you’d be busy at the shop today.”
“We harvested the apples yesterday, so I decided to share them today. Mom’s watching the shop for now.”
Lucien took a bag of apples from his bicycle basket and handed it to Finn.
“Wow! That’s a lot!”
Finn accepted the apples happily. He turned one of them over in his hand.
“Looks great. I’m going to save this one. My Mabel will love it.”
Lucien immediately laughed.
“Your favorite cow? You give her apples?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“That’s not cow feed.”
“But she likes them.”
“Just your Mabel? What about the other cows? They’ll get jealous.”
“I’ll tell Mabel it’s our secret. She can’t tell the others.”
They both chuckled.
Lucien and Finn walked into the shop.
“I want to buy some milk. A few bottles.”
“How many?”
“Four bottles. And a dozen eggs.”
Finn took several bottles of milk from the simple cooler behind him, then selected some eggs from the basket.
Lucien inspected the items.
“Are they fresh?”
Finn stared at him in disbelief.
“Luc, are you questioning the quality of my chickens? My chickens are the haaaaappiest chickens in all of Briarfoooord!”
Finn spread both arms wide, making a huge circular gesture.
“Pffft! Hahahaha!”
Lucien burst out laughing.
“You can bring them back if the eggs aren’t fresh, but I’m sure that won’t happen.”
“All right, Mr. Owner of the Happ~iest Chickens in Briarford.”
Finn laughed, then handed the items to Lucien.
Lucien looked toward the backyard, where things sounded busier than usual.
“Where’s your uncle?”
“Dad? He’s been busy at the farm since early this morning.”
“Still taking care of the cows?”
“No. Apparently, a weasel tried to get in through the side of the chicken coop last night. They’re repairing the coop now.”
“You’re not helping him?”
Finn shook his head.
“If I help, I’ll just end up being told to do everything, so I’ve been trying to look busy in the shop all morning.”
“By going back and forth with that basket of eggs?” Lucien teased.
“You’ve been watching this whole time? Crap! I’ve been found out!”
Once again, they laughed together.
“All right, Finn. I still have to deliver these apples to one more place.”
Lucien put the milk and eggs into one of the empty bicycle baskets and paid for them.
“Where’s that?”
“Father Benedict.”
Before leaving, he glanced toward the backyard.
“Give my regards to your uncle.”
“Okay, Luc. Thanks for the apples, and thanks for being our first customer of the morning~”
Lucien laughed softly and climbed onto his bicycle, while Finn stood in front of the shop holding the apple he planned to give his favorite cow.
“Luc!” he called again.
“Hmm?”
“If I want more apples, there are still some left, right?”
“There are. Just come to the shop. Or do you want to climb the tree yourself?”
“Really? I’m still good at climbing trees, you know!”
“Then come along for the next harvest.”
“Okay! Just call me if you need my help.”
Lucien nodded in agreement and said goodbye once more before pedaling away from the Alder family shop.
Lucien continued toward the church, which stood not far from the middle of the village. Beside the church was a small orphanage where Father Benedict lived with the children in his care.
From outside the fence, the voices of children playing could be heard quite clearly.
Lucien stopped his bicycle in front of the yard and saw Father Benedict sitting on one of the wooden benches, watching the children running around him.
“Good morning, Father Benedict.”
The priest turned and smiled.
“Good morning, Lucien. How are you? Where have you been?”
“I’m doing well. I’ve been to a few places to deliver these apples.”
Lucien got off his bicycle and pointed toward the two baskets at the back.
Before he could give Father Benedict a bag of apples, a boy of about four came running toward him. The child recognized his voice.
“Uncle Luceeeen!!”
The boy immediately ran toward the fence.
“Elian, don’t run so fast!” Father Benedict called.
But Elian had already reached Lucien.
“Uncle Luceeen~!” he called again, his face glowing with excitement.
Lucien crouched down to meet him at eye level.
“Slow down. You almost tripped.”
Elian paid no attention to the scolding. He hugged Lucien immediately, then looked toward his bicycle.
“What brings you here, Uncle?”
“Am I not allowed to come here?”
Elian quickly shook his head.
“Of course you are! I’m so happy you came! Are you going to read us a story today?”
“No.”
“Are you going to teach us something?”
“Not that either.”
“Oh! Are we going to explore the forest again?”
“Not that, either.”
“Then what?” Elian asked, sounding a little disappointed.
“Or are you going to play with us?”
Lucien smiled and shook his head.
“Sorry, Elian. I can’t today.”
Elian gave him a slightly sour look, his lips pushing into a pout. Lucien stood and took an apple from his basket.
“I came here to deliver these.”
Elian’s eyes immediately fixed on the apple in Lucien’s hand.
“Is that for me?” His eyes lit up.
“For you and all your friends here, too.”
“Yaaay!” Elian jumped for joy.
Lucien handed the rest to Father Benedict. He accepted the bag and smiled.
“Thank you, Lucien. I’m sorry to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble, Father. Our tree produced so much fruit. It would be a shame if you didn’t get to taste them.”
Elian continued staring at the apple in his hands.
“Can I eat it now?”
Father Benedict held back a laugh.
“Be patient, Elian. We’ll eat them together later.”
Elian sighed and looked back at Lucien.
“So when can we go adventuring again, Uncle?”
“Looks like we can this weekend. If the weather’s good, I’ll take you. Bring some of your friends, too.”
Elian nodded enthusiastically.
“Promise, Uncle!”
Lucien agreed and tousled his hair.
“Then listen to Father Benedict and don’t cause any trouble until that day comes.”
He nodded obediently, though his expression showed that his mind was already filled with plans for their next adventure.
“Now help Father Benedict hand out these apples.”
“Okay!”
Elian immediately took the bag of apples. He ran back toward the other children, slowing down a little this time because he remembered Lucien’s warning.
Father Benedict watched the boy for a moment before looking back at Lucien.
“He’s always waiting for you to visit.”
“I’m happy I can make time to come here, too.”
He then took hold of his bicycle.
“Then I’ll be going, Father. Mom’s waiting for me to take over at the shop.”
“All right. Be careful on the road.”
“I’ll come again next time.”
He climbed onto his bicycle and left the orphanage yard. Elian’s voice could still be heard behind him.
“Byeee, Uncle Luceeeen~!!”
The other children answered him.
Lucien turned and waved toward them. Then he began pedaling again, leaving the church and orphanage behind.
After saying goodbye to Father Benedict and Elian, Lucien rode away from the church grounds. Both baskets on the right and left sides were now empty. The apples he had carried since morning had all been given to the people he wanted to visit.
Only the bottles of milk and eggs he had bought from Finn remained. He was taking those home as supplies for the household.
Lucien pedaled slowly along the village road. The sun was climbing higher, but the air was still pleasantly cool. After making his rounds since morning, he only wanted to get home and help Mirelle watch the shop.
He had only gone a few yards from the church grounds when a voice called from behind him.
“Lucien!”
He recognized the voice. Lucien let out a small sigh before slowing his bicycle.
“Lucien, wait a moment!”
Mrs. Agatha hurried toward him. Lucien had actually hoped he could ignore her without stopping, but Agatha’s house wasn’t very far from the church. They often happened to run into each other like this.
“Good morning, Mrs. Agatha,” Lucien greeted her after getting off his bicycle.
“Morning. What brings you this way? Where have you been?”
“I just came from Finn’s shop and stopped by the orphanage for a bit.”
Agatha glanced at the two bicycle baskets, now holding several bottles of milk and some eggs.
“I see.”
Agatha nodded, but instead of letting him leave, she continued.
“Have you had breakfast? Or don’t tell me you haven’t eaten again?”
“I have, Mrs. Agatha.”
“Really?”
Lucien smiled faintly. His hands remained on the handlebars as he hoped the conversation would end soon.
But Agatha didn’t seem to be running out of things to say.
“You must have traveled quite a distance. Tired, are you? You should rest first. Don’t put off eating when you’re hungry.”
Lucien only gave a quiet laugh.
He already knew Agatha’s habits. Once the woman found someone to talk to, it was difficult for her to bring the conversation to an end quickly.
“Oh, right! I almost forgot.”
Agatha suddenly remembered something.
“Clara made some cake this morning. It’s delicious—you have to try it!”
Lucien immediately knew where the conversation was headed.
“But I—”
“Clara!”
Agatha called out before he could finish.
“Clara, come here, dear! Bring your cake, too!”
A girl appeared from the direction of the house, carrying a plate covered with a thin cloth. When she saw Lucien standing in front of her home, her steps slowed.
“Lucien wants to try the cake you made.”
Lucien smiled helplessly. Why did this become about me? he thought.
Clara approached, looking a little embarrassed. She lifted the cloth, revealing several neatly cut pieces of cake.
“Here...” she said softly.
Lucien nodded politely.
“It looks delicious.”
“It’s not just the way it looks,” Agatha cut in. “It really is delicious. Clara is very good at baking. She’s beautiful, smart, and now she knows how to cook, too.”
Clara lowered her head even further.
“Mom...”
Lucien only smiled awkwardly. He had no idea how to respond to the compliment.
Agatha then held the plate out to him.
“Go on, try it.”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Agatha. I already—”
“Just one piece.”
Lucien knew there was no point in refusing again and again. In the end, he took a small piece and tasted it.
He was silent for a moment. The cake really was delicious.
“It’s good. The cake is soft and not too sweet.”
Clara lifted her face slightly. For the first time since approaching him, the girl gave a small smile.
“See? I told you! Ahahaha!”
Agatha looked pleased.
Lucien had just started to return the plate when Agatha pushed it toward him instead.
“Just take the whole thing home.”
Lucien blinked.
“The whole thing?”
“Yes. All of it.”
“You really don’t have to give me this much, Mrs. Agatha...”
“She can make more for us later. If you take it all, Clara will be happy. Right, dear?”
Agatha gently nudged Clara’s arm with her elbow.
Lucien held back a small smile. He could see Clara growing more and more flustered, while Agatha showed no sign of giving up.
Lucien looked at the plate in his hands, then at Agatha. He could refuse one more time if he wanted to.
But the longer he stood there, the longer the conversation would drag on.
Finally, Lucien let out a small sigh.
“All right. Thank you, Mrs. Agatha.”
“There you go.” Agatha beamed.
Lucien carefully placed the plate of cake in one of his bicycle baskets, making sure it wouldn’t tilt during the ride.
Then he put his hands back on the handlebars.
“I’ll head home now, Mrs. Agatha.”
“All right. Be careful.”
Lucien nodded. He glanced at Clara.
“See you later, Clara.”
Clara gave a small nod. “Yeah.”
He managed to bring the encounter to an end fairly smoothly.
Lucien pedaled along the village road while the plate of cake from Agatha rocked gently inside the basket.
He hoped he would be more careful next time before Agatha managed to stop him again. It wasn’t that Lucien disliked her; he simply avoided long conversations and Agatha’s attempts to set him up with her daughter.
A morning that was supposed to consist of nothing more than handing out a few apples had ended up taking him around nearly half of Briarford. Still, at least all his errands were finished—the apples had been delivered, the milk and eggs had been bought, and now he only had to return home.