The Dubois Familys Rural Retreat
A year ago the Dubois bought a country house. After turning fifty, Pierre felt a strong urge to own a second home. His rural childhood reminded him of his family house and of gardening.
The modest cottage had been kept in good shape. Pierre repainted the wooden chalet, fixed the fence and replaced the gate.
There was enough soil for potatoes and a few vegetables, but the orchard was lackingfew trees, no shrubs, except a small patch of raspberry bushes.
Dont worry, my love, well get it sorted over time, Pierre said as he set to work.
Sophie wandered among the flower beds, approving her husbands plans.
On one side the neighbours were friendly; they seldom visited but tended their own property. On the other side lay total abandonment: the fence leaned, and tall weeds had taken over.
Those weeds tormented the Dubois throughout the summer.
Pierre, this grass is unbearable, its spilling into our garden as if it will swallow the whole plot, Sophie complained.
Pierre grabbed his hoe and attacked the weeds with vigor, yet they seemed endless, always returning.
Look, Sophie, their pear trees will be good this year, Pierre remarked, eyeing the neighbours weedchoked garden.
And that apricot tree is promisinga future rich harvest, Sophie replied, pointing to a tree whose branches even overhung their garden.
I wish wed meet those owners at least once, Pierre said wistfully. Maybe theyll come back just to harvest.
In spring Pierre couldnt resist and watered the neighbours trees with his hose, not wanting them to suffer the heat.
Now the relentless grass gave no respite.
They could have mowed at least once this summer, Sophie grumbled.
When the Dubois returned, they were amazed by the apricot yield. In that region many people grow apricots, but on an abandoned property it was unexpected.
No, Im going to cut that grass, Pierre declared. I cant watch this place choke on weeds.
Look, Pierre, Sophie said, showing the heavy apricot branches hanging over their garden.
Pierre fetched a small ladder. Lets harvest this before it rots; nobodys been here.
It belongs to the others, Sophie warned cautiously.
Theyd get lost anyway, Pierre replied, beginning to pick the ripe fruit first.
Lets gather raspberries for the grandchildren, Sophie suggested. Youve mowed, so its a fair trade.
It seems we could harvest everythingno one tends this spot, its like an orphaned parcel, ignored by all.
(inspired by artist JeanPierre Martin)
During a break at work, Pierre joined a circle of delivery drivers swapping life stories.
Theres someone sneaking into my garden whenever I turn my back; theyve already shaken my trees twice, complained Nicolas Giraud, nearing retirement.
Hearing this, Pierre felt sweat bead on his forehead, recalling that he and his wife had just picked apricots and that the pears promised a good crop.
Wheres your country house? Pierre asked, hesitant.
Its over there, in the SaintÉtienne garden association.
Oh, Pierre sighed. Our plot is higher up.
Your fruit ripens a bit earlier, Nicolas admitted. Here everything comes later, but they still come to loot, even digging up potato beds, trying to set traps.
Setting a trap could land you in prison, one man warned.
Stealing is allowed? Nicolas protested.
Back home, Pierre was flooded with nostalgic, guilty memories of the day they harvested from the neighbours garden. It wasnt his colleagues land, yet remorse gnawed at him. As a child hed occasionally run through other peoples gardens for fun, but that was rare.
Now they had taken a portion of the neighbours apricot harvest and still coveted the pears. Pierre had planted young trees that would one day grow, but the abandoned apricot tree felt a shame to let die.
No one will come, Sophie tried to soothe him. If they didnt show up this year, they wont now.
But I feel like a thief, Pierre confessed.
Do you want me to throw away the apricots? his wife asked. Ive already given half to the children, she added.
Leave it; its too late now.
Thus the Dubois spent the summer tending the neighbours plot, clearing weeds and watching the pears, hoping the real owners might appear. When the fruit finally fell, Sophie gathered a few into her apron.
In autumn, after tidying their own land, they cast one last glance at the neighbours field. The fence seemed to sigh, as if pleading for its leaning boards to be straightened.
Near the gate lay debris from a temporary structurerotting timber, shattered glass, fabric scrapsyet a few lateblooming flowers still tried to grow.
__________
That winter, recalling the summer days, Pierre felt a gentle longing for their country house.
When spring returned and the first blades of grass appeared, the Dubois went back out.
Do you think the owners will return this year? Sophie asked about the abandoned parcel.
Pierre sighed sadly. Poor garden, those treeswhat a waste.
When it was time to turn the soil, Pierre called a contractor to plow. He kept glancing at the neighbours land. They had already cleared the tall weeds with Sophie to stop the spread, but the other corner still needed attention.
Listen, friend, what if we also plow the adjacent plot? Ill pay, Pierre offered.
But Pierre, what are we doing? Thats their land, Sophie objected.
I cant stand to see this field lie fallow.
Are we going to spend our lives caring for other peoples property? she asked reasonably.
After lunch, lets go to the garden association to find out who owns that land. This weed is driving me mad, and the abandoned garden needs someone.
__________
At the garden association, a woman with glasses leafed through a notebook filled with notes.
Is the address alreadyRue des Cerisiers, 45?
Yes, that one, Sophie replied. They should at least mow the grass and harvest their fruit; its a shame to let that beautiful orchard go to ruin.
Its over now, the woman confirmed. The owners abandoned it; its become public land.
So it has no owner now? Pierre asked.
It appears so. The former owners were elderly and have passed away. Their nearest relative, a nephew, refused the inheritancehe has no 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, for our grandchildren.
____________
Like we say, a mountain of worries, Sophie joked when they arrived at the plot.
It feels as if weve taken this garden under our wingnow its our child, Pierre said.
Ill clear the rubbish myself; I have a trailer. Well strip the weeds, free the orchard, and then Ill replace the fence.
____________
In summer Pierre admired the crowns of the trees and the flowers Sophie had planted. The soil of the former neighbours garden seemed to breathe again, eagerly soaking up rain.
Look, our little garden is sprouting again, Pierre rejoiced.
One weekend the family visited: their daughter Liliane, soninlaw Jacques, and the grandchildren. The two older grandsons, Michel and Charles, ran to the car, while little Anne stopped, fascinated by the flower beds, and Pierre snapped a photo of her.
I like it, Jacques said, unrolling a hose to water the potatoes. We could plant gooseberries.
Thatll be for you next year, 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 go ahead and replace it?
Lets do it, Pierre agreed. After all, the property is ours now. Its as if it invited itself in, and look how its blossomed there will be plenty of raspberries this year.
The Enchanting Country House Escape
