Two Yellow Eyes

Jeanne Jugan opens the three bottles of Trappist beer.

She gives one to Arthur.

Try this. Stop! Wipe the top first.

Too late. Arthur has a mouthful of spiderwebs and dust.

The beer isn't bad though.

And it gets better.

That hits the spot, Jeanne, says Pierre-Louis.

I know, says Jeanne Jugan. The old folks used to like it.

Used to? says Pierre-Louis. Have they all died?

I suppose so, says Jeanne Jugan. But of course there will always be new ones.

So you've retired, says Pierre-Louis.

From being a saint, yes, says Jeanne Jugan.

She was a good saint, says Pierre-Louis. She founded the Little Sisters of the Poor.

Hu! says Arthur. 

He has finished the beer.

Have some of mine, says Jeanne Jugan. I'll never finish it.

Thanks, says Arthur. Then I'd better be going.

Wait for me, says Pierre-Louis. I haven't mended my tyre.

Arthur swigs down the rest of the beer that Jeanne Jugan can't finish.

Hu! Hu! 

It's not quite a hiccup. But it's close. And he's feeling light headed.

Have some more cheese before you go, says Jeanne Jugan.

No thanks, says Arthur. I'll get some fresh air outside.

He goes out through the back door. Grabs his bicycle, wheels it to the road at the front of the cottage, and heads off towards ...anywhere. 

The sea is on his left, the road is below him, the sky turns above him in circles.

Is he going the right way? Has to be.

Back in Jeanne Jugan's kitchen, Pierre-Louis has found the site of his puncture.

So you and Arthur will be travelling together, says Jeanne Jugan.

Yes, says Pierre-Louis. Ah! Is this a glueless patch that you've given me?

It is, says Jeanne Jugan.

He sticks it straight on.

Done, says Pierre-Louis. I'll just pump the tyre up again and then Arthur and I will be going.

I wonder... begins Jeanne Jugan. But Pierre- Louis has gone through the front  door.

After a couple of minutes he returns to the kitchen.

Is Arthur in here?  

No, says Jeanne Jugan. He's out the back, remember?

No, he isn't, says Pierre-Louis.

Then he must have left already, says Jeanne Jugan. Dear me, he was in no fit state to go on the road.

Fear not, Jeanne, says Pierre-Louis. I'll catch up to him.

I'm coming with you! says Jeanne Jugan. Just give me a minute.

She runs to her bedroom and changes into her cycling clothes. Black pedal pushers, a loose black  t-shirt, and a black cycling helmet with two yellow eyes.

She fetches her bicycle, brushes the webs  from the seat, and pedals off down the road after Pierre-Louis.

Naturally, he has not waited.