Jean-Luc Persecuted by C.F. Ramuz

Author:C.F. Ramuz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deep Vellum Publishing
Published: 2020-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

The following day, Jean-Luc began to drink. They had to carry him home and put him to bed; they even had a lot of trouble finding the key, which he had hidden in a new place; and old Jéromette, having brought the little one home around six o’clock and finding no one, had to bring him back to hers and put him to bed there.

Jean-Luc fell from bed in the night, woke in the morning on the floor with a bump on his head. He got dressed, went out drinking again. Three days in a row, he drank.

The fourth day, Jéromette returned, still with the child; she said to Jean-Luc:

—I have to keep an eye out to see when you’re home. This is ugly behavior, Jean-Luc.

He looked at her without answering, but, when she handed him the little one, whom, despite her old age, she had carried all the way there, he pushed her back hard.

—Lead him, he said, to those who made him.

And so, full of pity, she brought him home again, and now the little one asked for his father, and he cried the entire way back, so that people came out of their houses, and asked:

—What’s going on?

—Ah! well, she said, I just don’t know what to do anymore.

For she was poor and not strong enough to take care of a child all on her own.

But, a moment later, Jean-Luc also left, walked all the way to see Firmin Craux, who was an old man, rich and very greedy, living at the entrance of the village. In the past he had wanted one of Jean-Luc’s cows. Jean-Luc, having entered, offered it to him. Craux asked:

—How much?

—Three hundred, said Jean-Luc.

The old man said:

—That’s too much.

For he knew everything. So Jean-Luc began to tell him:

—Listen, I don’t need it anymore. Do you like it?

—Yes and no, said Craux.

—Well then! name your price!

Craux told him:

—Two hundred.

It was about half of what Foumette was worth. For she produced eight liters of milk. Even so, Jean-Luc told him:

—Agreed!

But Craux went on:

—One more thing, I’ll give you a hundred now and the other hundred in three months; I’ll write something up for you.

—Never mind then!

—Alright, then a hundred and seventy up front and you’ll bring me the beast at once.

Jean-Luc walked back through the village. It was mild out, the roofs puffed out a vapor. He went to the stable, untied Foumette; he pulled her with the rope, but she mooed, already missing her warm litter, while people said to him:

—What are you doing? Where are you leading her?

But he did not give them an answer. He halted in front of Craux’s house. He returned once more, gripping his heavy wallet tight in his pocket. That night, he went out drinking again.

He placed two fifty-franc coins on the table; he said:

—This one’s on me.

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