As Belle and Georges entered the bookstore, a young couple was just leaving. They greeted Belle as they left, being former students of hers.
"It looks like business is good," Belle said to Monsieur Liseur, smiling.
"Yes, thanks to you!" Monsieur Liseur said with a chuckle. "Ever since you took over the school, the young people have been flocking to my shop. It does my heart good to see so many people in this town reading; I never thought I'd see the day. Time was when you were my only customer, remember?"
"If you can call me a customer, when I was always borrowing books without paying for them!" Belle reminded him sheepishly.
Monsieur Liseur laughed. "Well, you've certainly made up for it since, with all the new business you've brought in! Speaking of which, I have some new treats for you two." His eyes twinkled in anticipation as he reached behind the counter and brought out two books. "This is a new novel I think you'll both like – Candide, by Voltaire. It's caused quite a sensation in Paris, Hervé tells me."
Belle was delighted. She took the book and leafed through it. "I can't wait to read it! How is Hervé, by the way?"
"Oh, fine. He's been very busy lately – the university expanded its literature department, so he's been spending a lot of time hiring new professors and such. He's also working on a new book; he said he'll send you a copy once it's published."
"Oh, good," Belle said, pleased.
The bookseller turned to Georges. "And Georges, I think you'll especially enjoy this." He held out another book. "It's a collection of poetry by Andre Marie de Chenier."
"Oh, thanks!" Georges said, his eyes lighting up as he took the book. "He's one of my favorites!"
"I know," the bookseller said with a smile. "Which reminds me: how is your own poetry comng along, young man? Written anything new lately?"
"Georges wrote the most beautiful poem the other day," Belle said proudly, putting her arm around Georges' shoulder.
"Ah, you must bring it in to show me, Georges!" Monsieur Liseur said, beaming. "You know I always enjoy your poems! One day in the future, I fully expect to be selling The Complete Works of Georges Avenant," he added with a wink.
Georges blushed shyly, but looked pleased. "I've been writing a lot of poems about nature...trying to show the beauty of nature, but also to show we can learn from it," he explained.
"Really? That sounds fascinating," Monsieur Liseur said with interest. "Tell me more about it."
Soon he and Georges were deep in conversation. Belle went to browse among the bookshelves to see what else might strike her interest.
O o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
At the same moment, Paige was approaching the bookstore. As she entered, she saw that the bookseller was engrossed in conversation with a boy. Uncertainly, she hung back by the door, not wanting to interrupt.
"Hello," said a friendly voice on the other side of her. Startled, Paige turned to see the schoolmistress standing by one of the shelves. "You're the minister's daughter, aren't you? Luc's sister? Your brother is in my class."
Paige hesitated, conflicted. On the one hand, she was sure that her mother wouldn't like her talking to this woman. But on the other hand, it would be unforgivably rude not to answer. After all, Paige had been taught to always be polite and respectful to her elders. "Yes, madame. My name is Paige."
The woman smiled warmly. "I'm Belle Avenant. Welcome to Molyneaux."
"Thank you," Paige said shyly. The woman seemed so nice that it was hard not to be nice back. And she had a kind smile. Paige smiled tentatively in return.
"How do you like it here so far?" Belle went on.
Paige was surprised to be asked for her opinion. Usually she just did as she was told; Mother always said that children, especially girls, were to be seen and not heard. She had to think for a moment. "I...guess I like it," she offered hesitantly.
"Well, it takes time to get used to a new village," Belle said encouragingly. "Even for the grown-ups! After all, your father has a whole new parish to get to know."
"Actually, this is Father's first parish," Paige said.
"Oh? Wasn't he the minister in your old village?" Belle asked.
Paige shook her head. "No, Grandfather was. You see, when Father was first ordained, Grandfather said Father wasn't ready to go out on his own yet," she explained, unable to hide her distress at the memory.
"That must have been hard for your father," said Belle sympathetically.
Paige nodded. She had always hated the way her domineering grandfather treated both her parents. Even Mother was quiet and meek in his presence. Paige had always tried her best to be a good girl, obedient and quiet and not causing any trouble, keeping her feelings to herself. But inside, it had upset her. She knew she shouldn't talk to a stranger about her family, but Mme. Avenant seemed so kind, and so genuinely interested in what she had to say, that Paige found herself continuing on despite herself. No one ever wanted to hear her thoughts; she'd never had the chance to say these things.
"Grandfather insisted that Father work as his deacon so he could train him the right way," she explained. "He said he wanted to make sure his daughter's husband was fit to be a minister before he got his own parish. So Father worked for Grandfather for a long time. But when we heard of the opening here, Father said he was going to take it, no matter what. He'd been waiting a long time to go out on his own."
"Oh, I see. This must be a wonderful opportunity for him, then," Belle said. "But I'm sure he also learned a lot by working for your grandfather," she added diplomatically.
"Not really," Paige said softly. "They didn't really see eye to eye." She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the arguments, how she used to hide in her room when she heard her grandfather's stern, loud voice. Suddenly, the words poured out of her as though a dam had been removed. "Grandfather said that Father was a fool. He said people are born sinners, and the only way to keep them from being wicked is to make them afraid to do wrong. He'd say, 'You have to be strict with your congregation, just like with your children! Why do you think my daughter is such a good wife to you? I was firm with her right from the beginning. I taught her right from wrong and made it clear that bad behavior is punished. No arguments, no excuses, no talking back. That's how you have to be with your congregants. You can't coddle them! You have to put the fear of God into them!' His sermons were all about Hell and eternal torment." She shivered at the memory. "But Father said no, that's not the kind of minister he wants to be. Father said that church should be a welcoming place. He said people should find comfort and strength there, and get closer to God, and be inspired to become better people."
"I like your father's idea. That's a lovely way of looking at church," Belle said. "But sometimes even adults disagree on the best way to do things," she added, trying to make Paige feel better.
She thought about what Paige had said. As much as she disliked Mathilde Grognon, Belle found herself feeling a bit of sympathy for her. What must her childhood have been like, with such a father? She felt a rush of gratitude for her own dear, loving Papa.
Suddenly Paige's pale face turned red as she realized what she'd done. She was filled with shame. What was she doing, spilling her family's private business to a complete stranger? Where was her sense of propriety? Mother would kill her if she found out! "I...I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have spoken out of turn like that," she said anxiously. "It's disrespectful to my elders."
"It's all right," Belle reassured her. "You didn't do anything wrong. And I won't say anything."
Relief flooded through Paige. "Thank you," she said gratefully.
The door opened, and they looked up as a young man entered. He was about 17, with bright red hair, freckles, and a lively, animated expression.
"Hello, Nicolas!" Belle said on seeing him. Like all of the young people in town, he was one of her former students.
His freckled face broke into an infectious grin. "Hi, Mme. Avenant! How are you?"
Hearing the young man's loud, cheerful voice, Monsieur Liseur looked up. "Goodness, more customers! I'm sorry, I was so busy talking to Georges here I didn't notice! Nicolas, the glassblowing book you asked for came in yesterday."
"Oh, great – more ammunition for me! Thanks!" Nicolas said, rubbing his hands. He explained to Belle, "Pop always wants to do everything the same way his great-grandfather did when he started the glass business. He says 'what was good enough then is good enough now.' But I say: times have changed, and I bet there's better, more modern techniques we can use. So I asked Monsieur Liseur to get some up-to-date books on glassblowing, to help me make my case."
"That was a smart idea," Belle said admiringly.
Paige listened to Nicolas with fascination. She admired the way this boy could boldly speak his mind and wasn't afraid to disagree with his father. She couldn't imagine herself ever daring to contradict her own parents like that.
"Ah, here it is," Monsieur Liseur said, finding Nicolas's book. "Oh, and I also got in a new book of those tall tales you like."
"Thanks!" Nicolas said. Then he noticed Paige. "But this young lady was here before me. I'll wait."
"Oh, no," Paige said, startled. She hadn't thought he'd even noticed she was there. "It's all right. You can go first. I don't mind."
He shook his head. "Come on. What kind of gentleman would I be if I barged ahead of a lady who was here first?" He bowed gallantly and gestured toward the counter. "After you, Mademoiselle...?" He paused questioningly for her name.
Paige blushed. No boy had ever talked to her like that before, so friendly and charming. "Paige Grognon," she said shyly.
"Glad to meet you, Mlle. Grognon," he said, smiling. He had such a nice smile.
Paige smiled back. Then, feeling self-conscious, she quickly hurried to the counter and handed Monsieur Liseur the list.
"Ah, this is familiar! Belle's reading list for new students, I see," the bookseller said looking at the list. He began collecting the books from the shelves. "Are you starting school here?"
Paige shook her head. "They're for my brother."
Monsieur Liseur stacked the books neatly on the counter. "There you go: the books for your brother. Now: anything for you?"
Georges added, "Monsieur Liseur has all kinds of books in his store. Whatever you like to read, he has it!"
"Oh...no, thank you," Paige said, adding apologetically, "My mother doesn't approve of girls reading too much. She says the only books a girl needs to read are her cookbook and her Bible."
Belle shook her head in annoyance. She may have had some sympathy for Mme. Grognon's upbringing, but that kind of attitude toward reading was her biggest pet peeve.
"Really?" Nicolas was saying in surprise. "Most of the girls here read. Boys too." He leaned on the counter casually. "But I know what you mean. Sometimes these old folks get stuck in the past. Just like my Pop with our glass business. But I say, you gotta to move with the times." He winked at Paige, who blushed again. Every time he looked at her or spoke to her, she felt tingly all over.
She distracted herself by asking the bookseller, "How much do I owe you?" Monsieur Liseur told her the price, and she paid for the books.
"Well, I'd better get home." She carefully lifted the large stack of books off the counter.
Nicolas looked concerned. "That's too heavy for you. Wait a minute while I pay for mine, and I'll walk you home and carry them for you, all right?"
"W-walk me home?" Paige stammered. She couldn't believe it. The idea was unbelievably thrilling...but overwhelming and intimidating, too. She'd never even talked to a boy before today. He was so outgoing and witty -- what on earth could she possibly say to him? She felt tongue-tied with shyness.
Flustered and self-conscious, she panicked. "Oh, no, that's all right, I can manage! But thank you!" Quickly she hurried out before he could say anything else.
Outside, she berated herself. She fervently hoped he didn't think she was rude. She liked him so much -- she'd just been so overwhelmed by it all, not knowing what to say. Besides, if her mother saw her with this boy, she would start asking questions, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing with Paige...knowing her mother, she'd even give the boy a stern scolding for daring to walk with her unchaperoned! Paige would die of embarrassment if that happened. Her immediate instinct was to say no and run away.
But walking home, she kept replaying the scene in her mind – the way he had smiled at her, and winked, and talked to her so charmingly, calling her "Mademoiselle," offering to carry her books...She found herself wondering if she might run into him again. She remembered Belle's earlier question, and smiled to herself. I DO like this village, she thought.
O o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o oo o o o o o o o o o
Back at the bookshop, Nicolas looked worriedly at the door through which Paige had exited. "I hope I didn't say anything to upset her."
Belle shook her head. "No, I think she's just very shy."
Nicolas looked sympathetic. "She's new in town, too, probably doesn't know anyone yet...It must be hard on her."
Belle smiled. Nicolas had always been a kind-hearted boy. In school, he was always the one to invite an unpopular child to join a game, or protect the younger ones from bullies. His father had once complained to Belle that he was forever bringing home orphaned birds and stray dogs.
Nicolas paid for his purchases, waved, and left. Belle and Georges paid for their own books, said goodbye to the bookseller, picked up Lili, and headed for home.
As they approached the house, Belle was surprised to see Gaston and Mimi in the yard. She was even more surprised to see that Mimi was holding a bow. As they watched, Mimi notched an arrow, drew it back slowly, and aimed at a target hung from a tree. With her brow furrowed in concentration, she released the arrow. It flew through the air, straight to the bullseye.
"Yes!" Gaston said. "Perfect!"
Mimi gasped. "I did it!" she crowed. "I really did it!"
"You sure did!" Gaston said proudly. He looked up and saw Belle. "Belle, our daughter's a natural! You watch: she's going to be as good as me one day!"
"Congratulations, Mimi," Belle said, but she was a little worried. She motioned to Gaston to come over to her, and whispered, "Gaston, do you really think this is a good idea? I don't want her to get hurt, or to hurt someone else."
"I know, I wasn't sure about it myself at first either," he admitted. "She actually asked me at first to teach her how to shoot a gun, soI thought this was the lesser of two evils. But Belle...she's amazing!" He couldn't contain his enthusiasm and pride. "Most kids take weeks just to learn how to hold the bow correctly. But I've only been teaching her for an hour, and already she's hitting bullseyes! I've only ever heard of one other kid who caught on so fast!"
"Who?" Belle asked.
Gaston grinned. "Me, of course."
Belle smiled. "Well...I'm glad she's enjoying it so much. I just hope she's careful."
"She will be." Gaston turned to Mimi. "I made it very clear that she is not to use a bow and arrow unless I'm there to watch. Right, Mimi?"
"Right! I promise!" Mimi said. "Can I practice some more now?"
Gaston wanted to say yes. He couldn't wait to teach her the difference in technique between shooting near and far objects, and even teach her tricks like shooting an apple off a tree. But noticing Georges standing next to Belle, he put his eagerness aside. Mimi was already doing well; she would develop quickly, he knew. Georges was the one who neededhis help now.
He shook his head in answer to her question. "We can practice more tomorrow. Right now, it's your brother's turn." He turned to his son. "Georges, I came home early today to help you practice your shooting. We'll make a sharpshooter of you yet!"
"Okay, Papa," Georges said agreeably. He didn't mind target shooting where he didn't have to kill anything. But he felt a little guilty that his father had come home early just to help him become a better hunter.
Gaston noticed Mimi's jealous expression and deftly moved to distract her. "Mimi, in the meantime, you have other skills to learn too. There's a lot more to hunting than just shooting. In fact, the most important skill you need is something you can practice right now, while I'm working with Georges."
Mimi perked up. "What?"
"Being quiet."
Mimi glared at him. "That's not funny!"
Gaston laughed at her outraged expression. "I'm not kidding - I mean it. A hunter needs to be able to sit completely still, and walk slowly and silently. No sudden movements. You could be the best archer or marksman in the world, but if you go clomping around the forest and scaring all the game, you'll never bag anything." He looked at her appraisingly."Here, show me how you walk."
Mimi marched around the yard obligingly. Gaston shook his head. "Slow down, and set your feet carefully, gently. You need to blend into the forest so well that the animals don't even know you're there. And every few steps, stop and look around. Take in every detail – the sounds you hear, the signs of wildlife you see...Be aware of everything around you." He demonstrated. "Practice that, and then afterward, you can tell me everything you noticed."
"Okay!" Mimi said enthusiastically, and started prowling around the yard, imagining she was stalking game.
Gaston turned back to Georges with a wink. "That'll keep her busy for a while. Now, let's work on your shooting."
He helped Georges with his posture and technique, offering tips as Georges practiced. After a while, Georges was hitting the bullseye consistently about 70 percent of the time, and getting close the rest of the time. "Very good, son!" Gaston said approvingly. "That's how you do it!"
Georges smiled. "Thanks, Papa." In his head, a warning bell was going off. He knew that this was a mistake - he shouldn't be trying to hit the bullseye. He should purposely do badly, appear worse than he really was, so it wouldn't seem strange later when he kept missing his shots on hunting trips.
But he pushed the thought away. He just couldn't bear to miss on purpose now, when no animal was involved. It felt too good to hear Papa praising him, to do something to make him proud. The approval in his father's voice made him feel warm all over.
Then Gaston added, "You keep shooting like that, you'll get a buck of your own in no time!" and Georges' heart sank.
Georges thought fast. Suddenly, seeing Mimi still prowling around the yard, he had a brainstorm. "Papa, I was just thinking..."
"What, son?"
"Well...Mimi is coming hunting on Saturday for the first time. And you know how much she loves to have all the attention. So, maybe you should take her out alone on Saturday. I think that would make it really special for her -- just you and her alone for her first hunting trip. Then you can really focus on her, you know?"
Gaston thought about it. "Hmm, you're right, she probably would like that...but you're sure you wouldn't mind?"
Georges shook his head. "No, I've been out hunting plenty of times. This is her first time; it should be special."
Gaston looked at his daughter. "Mimi!" he called. "On Saturday, do you want it to just be you and me out hunting? Georges says he doesn't mind staying home."
"Really? Just the two of us?" Mimi's eyes lit up. "Yes!" She ran to Georges and hugged him. "Thanks, Georges!"
Belle smiled approvingly. "That was very thoughtful of you, Georges."
"Thanks," Georges said, embarrassed. It was true, his sister would love to have Papa's attention all to herself, but he had another motive too. It meant a week's reprieve - a week where he could skip hunting and not worry.
"Great, then it's settled. And it will give you more time to practice your shooting," Gaston said cheerfully.
O o o o o o
On Saturday, Mimi was up before anyone else. She ran into her parents' room and tugged at her father's hand, which was hanging off the bed. "Papa, it's Saturday! Come on! Let's go!"
"Mmmffff," mumbled Gaston sleepily. He rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"
"It's Saturday!" Mimi repeated impatiently.
"Just barely," her father said, glancing out the window, where the darkness outside was just beginning to lighten. Seeing Mimi's disappointment, he chuckled. "All right, wildcat. You're right: the early bird catches the worm. Give me a few minutes to wake up, okay?"
Mimi beamed. "Okay!" She ran downstairs.
Belle stirred and smiled. "She's enthusiastic, isn't she?"
"Just a little," Gaston joked. "It's good; shows initiative. I was just the same at her age." He got out of bed. "You go back to sleep; it's still early."
"No, I want to see you two off and wish her luck," Belle said, getting up as well.
When they entered the kitchen a few minutes later, fully dressed, Mimi said eagerly, "Look, Papa! I made you breakfast!"
Gaston looked with amusement at the plate of burnt toast and cup of watery tea she had set at his place at the table. "That's great, honey," he said, sitting down.
"Now eat quick so we can go!" she urged impatiently.
"Not so fast! I still have to load my rifle, and the dogs and the horses have to be fed," he reminded her.
"I'll feed them! You eat!" In a flash, Mimi was out the door.
Belle smiled from the stove, where she was preparing eggs and bacon. "Well, I have to say, if hunting gets Mimi to do chores willingly, I'm all for it!" she said jokingly.
"I knew it was a good idea," Gaston agreed.
When Mimi came back in, Gaston was loading his rifle with buckshot. Mimi leaned forward to watch with interest. "No bullets?" she asked. "Aren't we hunting deer?"
Gaston shook his head. "Deer hunting takes a lot of patience," he explained. "It means sitting still for hours, not making a sound – that might be hard for you at this point. We'll work up to that, don't worry! But I thought, for your very first hunt, you'd rather see something with more action." He grinned at her.
"Ooh, like what?" Mimi asked, bouncing up and down.
"Rabbit hunting," Gaston said, closing the rifle with a snap and standing up. "I think that's more your speed: there's lots of noise and action and running, and we get to take the dogs with us."
"Great!" Mimi said eagerly. She ran to get her bow and arrows.
Seeing her equipped, Gaston cautioned, "Now, Mimi, listen. Don't expect to get anything today, all right? This is your first hunt. The point of today is just for you to watch, listen and learn. I'm going to teach you all about animals' habits, and tracking, and signs to look for – there's a lot to know. And you only started learning archery a few days ago. It can take months or even years before you actually start bagging anything. Understand? I don't want you to expect to be a great hunter immediately, and then be disappointed. It takes time, practice and experience."
Mimi's face fell. She wanted to be great right now. "Did you get anything your first time hunting?"
"Me? Well...yes," Gaston admitted. He smiled reminiscently. "It was a raccoon up in a tree. Big one, too." Seeing Mimi's face light up, he cleared his throat and shook his head. "But you can't go by me," he warned. "That's an exception. Most kids go a long time before they make that first kill."
"Well, all right," Mimi said, but inwardly her spirits had risen. If Papa could do it, maybe she could too. "I can still bring my bow and arrows, can't I?"
Gaston smiled. "Of course." He whistled for the dogs, who came running to him, tails wagging. "Okay, we're off!"
"Have a good time!" Belle called as the dogs bounded out the door, followed by Gaston and Mimi.
Soon the other children came downstairs, yawning, and sat down to breakfast. "I can't wait to get to the gunsmith shop today," Alain remarked as he took a forkful of eggs. "Monsieur Armurier says that since I'm doing so well with fixing the guns, today he's going to start teaching me how to build one from scratch!"
"Oh, that sounds interesting!" Belle said, sitting down at the table and pouring a cup of tea. "How exactly do you do that?"
"There's a lot that goes into it," Alain told her. "First you have to figure out the measurements, and then you craft the stock out of wood, and then you have to forge the metal and cast it into the right shapes...I'm only just starting today, so I'll tell you more about it once I learn how to do it all." He beamed at the prospect. "Imagine when I'm able to make a whole gun, all by myself?"
"That's something to be proud of!" Belle agreed. She smiled fondly at him. "I'm so glad you're enjoying your job so much, Alain. You have such a talent for it – it's really perfect for you."
"Mama," interrupted Lili, "can I go to Jeanne's house today? Her mama invited me."
"I know, Monique told me," Belle said. "Alain, can you drop Lili off at Monique's house on your way to work?"
"Sure," Alain said, getting up. "Come on, little sis."
"Okay!" Lili jumped up, kissed Belle goodbye, and ran to her brother. Alain put his hand on her shoulder and they headed out the door.
Belle started to clear the dishes, and Georges immediately sprang up to help her. "Thank you, Georges," she said, smiling. After the dishes were washed and put away, she added, "Well, it looks like it's just you and me today. Do you want to read a book together?"
"Sure," Georges said happily. Belle made some cocoa, and they settled down on the couch to read Candide. Afterward they got into a lively discussion about it. Then Georges showed Belle some new poems he had written.
"Oh, these are marvellous, Georges," Belle said admiringly, looking at the pages. "You have such a beautiful way of describing things and putting your thoughts into words. Your poems really touch my heart."
"Thanks," Georges said, embarrassed but pleased. He was having a wonderful day. It was just such a relief not to have to go hunting today, not to have to put on an act. And it felt so good to spent some time alone with his mother, enjoying her undivided attention. It was always so busy and crowded and noisy at their house, all the children clamoring for attention or needing something. He cherished times like this, when they could just sit quietly, sharing books and talking without interruption.
At 11 a.m., Belle looked up. "Oh, look at the time!" she said, getting up. "I'd better start doing my shopping now, so I can get back to make lunch." She smiled affectionately at him. "Thanks for a lovely morning, Georges. It was so nice to get to spend some time together. And thank you for showing me your poems!"
"Any time," he said, smiling back. He took Candide and went outside. It was a sunny fall day, cool and breezy but comfortable. He sat down under a tree and started to read where they'd left off, and was soon lost in the story.
A little while later, he heard someone call his name. He looked up to see his friend Henri, LeFou's older son. "Hey, Georges!" Henri said. "A bunch of us are going to the meadow to play ball. Want to come?"
"Sure," said Georges enthusiastically, getting up. Having gotten out of going hunting today, he felt a wonderful sense of freedom, the day stretching out before him to do whatever he wanted, with no pressure. "Come on, Henri – I'll race you there!"
"Okay!" Laughing, the two boys took off running to meet their friends.
OO o o o o o
At the meadow, while the older boys played ball, the littler ones were having races. LeFou's younger son, six-year-old Denis, bent his knee in starting position with the other boys, feeling tense. "Ready, set, go!" one boy called. The boys took off running.
Denis ran as fast as he could, but he was soon out of breath. With his short legs, he could never seem to keep up. He came in last, just like always.
And just like always, tall, slim Valentin came in first. He tossed his platinum-blond hair and grinned. "The winner!" he crowed, raising his fists in a victory gesture. He glanced back at Denis and laughed. "Last again, Denis? You're such a slowpoke!"The other boys laughed.
Denis forced himself to grin and shrug good-naturedly. "I know, I'm like a snail," he joked.
"You're even slower than a snail!" Valentin joked. He turned to the others. "What should we play next?"
"Let's go climb some trees!" They ran toward the nearby grove of trees.
Denis followed with a sigh. He wished more than anything that he could be tall and strong and fast like Valentin. He hated always coming in last. It wasn't that he got bullied or anything like that; although the boys did tease him sometimes, he always laughed along with them, and even made his own jokes about being short and slow. Since he was a good sport, they'd move on to something else. The kids who got picked on were the ones who got upset and cried. And Denis had an older brother who was well-liked, which helped too.
But he hated feeling like he wasn't as good as the other boys. It seemed like all the games the boys liked to play involved running or climbing or catching balls or hitting targets, and he didn't measure up. There was nothing he was good at, nothing that made him special.
He grabbed the bottom branch of a tree and tried to pull himself up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friend Lili passing by with her mother.
Seeing Denis, her face lit up and she ran toward him. "Hi, Denis!" she said, running over to him. "Mama, can Denis come to our house?"
"Of course," Belle said.
"Yay! Want to come over and play?" Lili asked Denis.
"Sure," he said, glad to give up tree-climbing. He ran to tell his older brother Henri that he was going to Lili's, then joined her and Belle as they walked to their house.
"Come on, Denis!" The two children ran upstairs to Lili's room.
"What should we play?" Denis asked.
"Can we play fairy tales? And I'm a princess?" Lili wheedled.
Denis smiled. "All right." He knew that any other boy would think it was sissyish to play fairy tale "let's pretend" games with a girl. But secretly, he loved those games. Lili would tell the story – sometimes one she'd made up, sometimes a fairy tale she'd heard from her mother – and they would act it out. She was always the princess or the beautiful damsel in distress, and he was always the brave prince or knight in shining armor who rescued her.
It was silly...but somehow, when he acted out those stories with her, Denis' imagination took over. He got caught up in the story, and it felt real. He wasn't short, clumsy Denis anymore, always coming in last, not good at anything. No. He was tall, handsome Sir Denis, the strong, fearless knight, embarking on perilous quests, performing amazing feats, and slaying dragons to save the princess.
When he played with Lili, he was a hero.
Now he said, "Okay, sure. What story should we do?"
Lili clapped her hands. "Oh, goody! I know a really good story - Mama told it to us. It's about a prince and a princess and a flying horse! I'll tell you how it goes..."
Happily, they acted out the adventure. Denis rode on the magic horse, flying to foreign lands, fighting the villain and finally rescuing the princess. And when Lili sighed, "My hero!", he felt ten feet tall.
O o o o o ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Denis and Lili played all afternoon, until Denis' brother Henri came to fetch him home for dinner. Soon after they left, Mimi and Gaston got back from their hunting trip.
"Mama! Mama! Guess what!" Mimi cried, bursting into the house. Gaston followed, grinning, carrying his game bag.
Alain, who was on the couch, got up and went to meet them. "Hey, sis. How'd it go?"
"Look!" Mimi said excitedly, holding up a duck.
"Hey! Not bad!" Alain said, impressed. "I didn't bag anything my first time hunting. In fact, I didn't get anything till I was 10 or 11. Good for you, sis!"
Hearing the commotion, Georges and Lili ran down the stairs and Belle came out of the kitchen. Mimi showed off her prize. "Look what I got!"
"You got that all by yourself, Mimi?" Belle asked.
"She sure did!" said Gaston proudly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Beautiful shot, too."
Belle smiled. "That's wonderful, honey! I'll take it in the kitchen right now - we can have it for dinner." Mimi beamed, delighted.
"Congratulations! That's really great!" Georges told Mimi. "I'm glad you had a good time." He was genuinely glad for her; he liked to see his sister so happy. At the same time, though, he couldn't suppress a feeling of envy. Not of the kill itself -- he certainly had had plenty of chances to make a kill of his own. He simply didn't want to. But he couldn't help feeling wistful as he saw his father glowing with pride at his sister's accomplishment.
It was so easy for Mimi to make Papa proud, so easy for her to be exactly what he wanted. Georges knew in his heart that he would never, ever measure up. Papa was never going to beam with pride and brag about Georges the way he did about Mimi.
As if to underscore the point, his father caught his eye and said with a wink, "You'd better keep practicing, Georges! Your little sister's giving you a run for your money!" He clearly thought a little competition might motivate Georges to improve.
"Yeah, she's really good," Georges said, feeling trapped.
Gaston added encouragingly, "Don't worry, son. You did very well when you were practicing the other day. Next time it'll be you making the kill. I can feel it!"
Georges shrugged and went into the kitchen to see if his mother needed help. She thanked him and set him to work peeling potatoes.
"Mimi sure did great today, didn't she?" Georges said as he worked.
"Yes..." Belle said, looking at him sympathetically. "You know, Georges," she added casually, putting the prepared duck into the oven to roast, "I keep thinking about that poem you showed me today, about the seed growing toward the sun and blossoming. Your imagery was so beautiful and so vivid – I could see the brilliance of the flower and feel the warmth of the sun. You really have a rare talent." She smiled at him.
He smiled back, feeling a little better. At least Mama thinks I'm special and talented. SHE doesn't care if I hunt or not.
Later at dinner, as Belle passed Mimi the potatoes, she said, "So, Mimi, tell us about your day. How did you get that duck? I thought you two were hunting rabbits."
"We were!" Mimi said, in between shoveling potatoes into her mouth. "Oh, Mama, it was so exciting! The dogs were sniffing around, and then suddenly they'd run forward, baying, and then boom! All these rabbits came running out! And Mama, they were going so fast, like streaks of lightning! There was only a few seconds to get them before they went into their holes. But Papa was amazing – he made every shot!" She smiled at her dad, her eyes shining with hero worship. "He's the greatest!"
"So I've heard," Belle said, smiling in amusement at her husband, who winked at her.
"So then, I tried to shoot some with my bow and arrow. But I missed! I was so mad!" Mimi went on.
Gaston chuckled. "I'll say. She threw the bow on the ground as hard as she could!" He reached across the table and ruffled her hair. Mimi smiled, looking embarrassed. Gaston went on, "But I told her, it takes a lot of skill and practice to shoot rabbits. Hitting something small that's moving fast is a lot different from hitting a bullseye on a tree! Even with a gun, it takes a long time to get the knack of it. And with a bow and arrow, it's almost impossible. Even most grown men can't hunt rabbits with a bow."
"But you can, right, Papa?" Mimi asked.
Gaston grinned. "Well, yes," he conceded. "But not when I was nine years old. It took a lot of practice before I could do that."
Mimi set her jaw in determination. "I'm gonna practice and practice and practice until I can do it too!"
"That's the spirit!" Gaston said approvingly.
"So how did you get the duck?" Alain asked curiously.
"Well, we were on our way back, and we were passing by the lake," Mimi said. "I was still upset that I didn't get anything. There was this big clump of reeds by the lake, and suddenly the dogs rushed over there, and they were barking like crazy! And then this whole big FLOCK of ducks flew up! I couldn't believe it! So I just grabbed an arrow and notched it as fast as I could, and I aimed at the ducks, and I shot the arrow...and I got one! I really did it! All by myself!" Mimi's eyes were alight with excitement.
"That's very impressive!" Belle said.
"It was the greatest day of my whole life!" Mimi declared happily. "I can't wait to go again!"
In bed that night, she lay awake, too full of plans and dreams to sleep. "I'm going to practice my archery every single day until I'm perfect at it, just like Papa!" she said to Lili. "And then Papa will teach me how to shoot a gun, and I'll get perfect at that, too. I'll get more trophies than anyone else, and everyone will say how great I am, and I'll have lots of exciting adventures too! I can't wait!"
"What kind of adventures?" Lili asked.
Mimi thought about it. "Maybe I'll hunt down a ferocious grizzly bear. Or fight off a whole pack of wolves, all by myself, like Papa did that time!" Mimi's imagination took flight. "I could even be a hero! I could rescue people...or catch a wicked band of outlaws single-handed and get a big reward! Wouldn't that be the greatest thing ever?"
Lili shook her head. "Ugh, I wouldn't want to do stuff like that! It's too scary!" She leaned back on her pillow with a dreamy expression. "I think the greatest thing ever is to be a princess. You get to live in a big shiny castle, and wear lots of pretty dresses and jewels, and you get a handsome prince to be in love with you, and you can have anything you want, and every night there's a big ball and you go dancing!" She sighed happily. "That would be the most fun ever!"
Mimi made a face. "It sounds boring. Sitting around in fancy clothes all the time doing nothing, and dancing every night with some stuck-up prince? I'd hate that."
Lili giggled. "I guess that's why you're you and I'm me."
Mimi grinned. "Yeah."
Lili yawned. "Well, I'm getting sleepy. Good night, Mimi."
"'Night." Mimi flopped down to dream of dark forests and danger, wild animals and thrilling adventures, while her little sister drifted off to visions of sparkling ballgowns, handsome princes, and shining castles.