Foreign Country Country House
A year ago the Dubois family bought a countryside home. Having just crossed their fifties, Pierre felt a strong urge to own a second residence. His rural upbringing reminded him of his family house and of gardening.
The modest cottage had been kept in good shape. Pierre repainted the wooden chalet, repaired the fence and replaced the gate.
There was enough soil for potatoes and a few other vegetables, but the orchard left much to be desired: few trees, no shrubs, only a small patch of raspberry bushes.
Dont worry, dear, well equip it over time, Pierre said as he got to work.
Sophie moved briskly among the flowerbeds, approving her husbands plans.
On one side the neighbours were friendly; although they seldom visited, they tended their own property. On the opposite side, however, lay total neglect. The fence was leaning and tall grasses had taken over everything.
Those weeds turned into a real nightmare for the Dubois throughout the summer.
Pierre, this grass is unbearable; its spilling into our garden and looks as if it will take over the whole plot, Sophie complained.
Pierre grabbed his hoe and started attacking the weeds with vigor, yet they seemed endless and kept returning.
Look, Sophie, their pear trees will be good this year, Pierre said, glancing at the neighbours garden choked with grass.
And that apricot tree is spectacular, Sophie replied, pointing to a tree promising a generous harvest; some of its branches even overhung their own garden.
I wish we could meet those owners at least once, Pierre remarked regretfully. Maybe theyll come back just to harvest.
In spring Pierre could not resist and watered the neighbours trees with his hose, not wanting to see them suffer the heat.
Now the relentless grass gave them no respite.
They could have mowed at least once during the summer, Sophie complained.
The next time they arrived, the Dubois were amazed by the apricot yield. In that region many people grow apricots, but seeing such abundance on an abandoned property was striking.
No, Im going to cut their grass, Pierre declared. I cant stand watching that place suffocate under weeds.
Look, Pierre, Sophie said, gesturing to the heavy apricot branches hanging over their garden.
Pierre fetched a small ladder. Lets harvest at least this before it rots; nobody has shown up here.
It belongs to the others, Sophie warned cautiously.
Theyd get lost anyway, Pierre replied, beginning to pick the ripe fruit first.
Then lets pick some raspberries for the grandchildren, Sophie suggested. Youve mowed the grass; thats a fair trade for the work.
It seems we could harvest everything; no one tends that spot, it sits next to our plot like an orphan, and nobody worries about it.
(inspired by artist JeanPierre Martin)
During a break at work, Pierre joined a conversation among delivery drivers who were sharing life stories in a circle.
Theres someone slipping into my garden whenever my back is turned; theyve already shaken my trees twice, lamented Nicolas Giraud, nearing retirement.
Hearing that, Pierre felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead, remembering that he had just harvested apricots with his wife and that the pears also promised a good crop.
Where is your country house? Pierre ventured, fearing the answer.
Its over there, in the SaintÉtienne garden association, Nicolas replied.
Oh, Pierre sighed. Our place is a bit higher up.
Its true yours ripens a little earlier, Nicolas admitted. Here everything comes later, but they still come to loot; they even unearthed a few potato plants, to the point of wanting to set a trap.
Setting a trap could get you into trouble, one of the men warned. It could land you in prison.
But stealing is allowed? Nicolas exclaimed indignantly.
Back home, Pierre was flooded with nostalgic and guilty memories of the day they harvested from the neighbours. Though it wasnt his colleagues house, remorse gnawed at him.
As a child he had occasionally run through other peoples gardens, but only a few times and just for fun.
Here, however, they had taken part of the neighbours apricot harvest and still coveted the pears.
Of course Pierre had planted young trees that would grow, but that neighbours apricot tree it would be a shame to let it die.
No one will come, Sophie tried to reassure him. If they didnt show up this year, they wont now.
But I feel like a thief, Pierre confessed.
You want me to throw away the apricots? his wife asked. I already gave half of them to the kids, she added, justifying herself.
Enough, its too late now.
Thus the Dubois spent the summer tending the adjacent plot, clearing the weeds. They watched the pears, hoping the true owners would appear.
When the fruit finally fell, Sophie collected a few in her apron.
In autumn, after putting their own plot in order, they cast one last glance at the neighbours land. The fence seemed to sigh, as if pleading for its leaning boards to be straightened.
Near the gate lay debris from a temporary structure: rotted wood, shattered glass, torn fabric yet, among the rubbish, a few lateblooming flowers struggled to grow.
__________
That winter, recalling the summer days, Pierre felt a gentle longing for their country house.
With springs return and the first shoots of grass, the Dubois went back out.
Do you think the owners will come back this year? Sophie asked, referring to the abandoned plot.
Pierre sighed sadly. Poor garden, and the treeswhat a waste
When it was time to turn the soil, Pierre called a contractor to plow the field.
All the while he couldnt stop glancing at the neighbours land. They had already cleared the tall grasses with Sophie to keep them from spreading, but he wished they could also turn that piece of earth.
Listen, my friend, what if we plow the adjacent lot too? Ill pay, Pierre proposed.
But Pierre, what are you doing? Sophie asked. It belongs to the others.
I cant stand seeing that field lie fallow, he replied.
And what, well be tending other peoples properties forever? his wife reasoned.
After lunch, lets go to the garden association and find out who owns that land. Those weeds are driving me crazy, and the abandoned garden needs attention.
__________
At the garden association, a woman with glasses perched on her nose leafed through a ledger full of notes. Whats the address againRue des Cerisiers, 45?
Yes, thats it, Sophie answered. At least they should cut the grass and harvest their fruit; its a shame to see such a beautiful orchard fall into ruin.
Its over now, the woman assured them. The owners abandoned it; its become public property.
So it has no owner now? Pierre asked.
That appears to be the case. The former owners were elderly and have passed away. Their closest relative, a nephew, refused the inheritance; he says he doesnt have the time, the woman explained, looking at them. Would you like to acquire it?
Acquire what? The land?
Yes. You could buy it; it wouldnt cost much, and all the paperwork is in order.
What do you think, Sophie? Should we take it, since its legal?
Do you think we can manage it?
Well develop it and give it to the kids, so our grandchildren can enjoy it.
____________
Like they say, a mountain of worries, Sophie joked as they arrived on the site.
It feels like weve taken this garden under our wing; its our child now, Pierre said.
Ill clear the rubbish myself; luckily I have a trailer. Well pull out the weeds, free the orchard, and then Ill replace the fence.
__________
In summer, Pierre admired the crowns of the trees and the flowers his wife had planted. The soil of the former neighbours garden seemed to breathe again, eagerly soaking up the rain.
Look, our little garden is thriving again, Pierre exclaimed.
One weekend the children arrived: their daughter Liliane, soninlaw Jacques, and the grandchildren. The two elders, Michel and Charles, rushed to the car, while little Anne paused, fascinated by a flowerbed, and Pierre photographed her.
I like it, Jacques said, unrolling a hose to water the potatoes. We could plant currants next year.
Thatll be for you to do, Pierre replied. Here we could leave a lawn for the kids to play on.
Ill buy them a pool, Jacques promised, then eyed the fence. Shall we replace it?
Lets go, Pierre agreed. After all, the property is ours now. Its as if it invited itself in, and look how its blossomed therell be plenty of raspberries this year.
