Unreliable Means

The bicycle recedes in the distance, towards the Grand Randonnée.

Should we have let them go with Jeanne Jugan? asks Maclou. We were in charge for the day.

We're all saints together, says Méen.

She appears to have hung up her halo, says Maclou.

Women do that, says Méen. It doesn't mean anything.

So much for responsible child care.

....

The bicycle rattles even more than it used to.

Jeanne pedals on, black tee shirt and pedal pushers flapping.

Are you a witch? asks Baldy from the basket.

What gave you that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.

Terence, says Baldy.

What gave him that idea? asks Jeanne Jugan.

You SAID IT, says Terence.

I would never have said it, says Jeanne.

A shepherdess, a kitchen maid and after, a witch, says Terence.

Jeanne thinks back to the café, and her recollections, which were interrupted when Terence spilt the sugar.

AFTER WHICH! says Jeanne Jugan.

YES! says Terence. And you wear black clothes.

I hadn't finished, says Jeanne Jugan. I was going to say, that I had been a kitchen maid, AFTER WHICH I did something different.

Cast spells, says Baldy.

I worked for the Viscountesse de la Cloue, says Jeanne Jugan. We visited the poor. I was called  by god to a work not yet founded.

Baldy looks at Terence. 'Not yet founded'. That's a good one.

Perhaps they could make it a game.

......

Gaius, Belle and Saint Roley are well ahead of Jeanne Jugan, on the way to Pointe du Grouin.

They have stopped for a break.

What a magnificent region, says Gaius, chewing on a salted caramel.

You can see why they call it the Emerald Coast, says Belle. The sea is so clear and sparkling, and kind of... stripy.

Stripy, says Gaius. You are right. Azure, wine dark and emerald, with foaming white horses.

What do you think, Saint Roley? says Belle.

I have been thinking deeply, says Saint Roley. The bird sanctuary is on an island.

It is, says Gaius. Oh, I see. How shall you get there?

How shall I get there? asks Saint Roley. I am reluctant to trust my life to a vessel.

Understandable, says Gaius. The cardboard potato box was most unreliable, but you being in it was an accident.

Saint Roley sniffs, remembering his brother, Saint Malo, who is still out there somewhere, on an even less reliable section of cardboard (as the best case scenario).

Accident it may have been, says Belle, but we don't have a vessel. Perhaps you could learn how to fly.

That's what I have been considering, says Saint Roley. All I need is someone to teach me.

Arthur, says Gaius. He taught a bird to fly once. I recall it distinctly.

Why yes ! So do I, exclaims Belle. It was that little baby bristlebird!

How did he do it? asks Saint Roley.

Saint Roley feels suddenly nervous, because it was Arthur.