La Lune de Fleurs

Chapter 2 - Do Mischievous Children Dream of Havoc?

"Simon!" I called out. "Is that you?"

Almost instantly, Simon turned around, seemingly startled. "Natalia?"

I was relieved to a point that I can't exactly describe. I had been so worried about what could have happened to Simon. I had suspicions that he had been lured out to the woods, or even possibly kidnapped on the spot. But quickly, my relief turned into confusion.

"Why did you come out all the way here, Simon? Are you hurt, by chance?"

For a moment, Simon was silent, unmoving. I quickly noticed that he hadn't heard my question, so I politely repeated.

"Sorry for asking, but why did you—"

"Have you, by chance, heard of la Lune de Fleur, as my Grandfather refers to it?"

I was flabbergasted. I had never heard Simon speak so concisely to me, it was as if it was the only sincere thing he's said to me during my stay in Colmar. It was such a short and simple statement, yet so thorough in and of itself. I was shocked, but shortly came back down to Earth after comprehending his question.

"No, never. What exactly is it, Simon?"

He paused for a small amount of time, looking up at the Moon. It was in its third-quarter phase, only half of the celestial body being visible to us. 

Just another fact I've learned from the trivia forced upon me.

"It means 'Flower Moon.' It is known to be an event occurring annually in which, due to the Moon being the nearest to the Earth during the year, causes the moon to appear closer to us, thus being referred to as the Flower Moon, as the moon appears to be blooming. Additionally, rumour has it that during the time in which this event occurs," Simon claims, "April showers appear to be frequent, and an increased crop yield during that time led to their grandfather referring to the phenomenon as the Flower Moon. Usually, flowers like amaryllises, irises, pansies, black pearl roses and magnolias grow here in May. However, upon the mention of April showers and as if on cue, I suddenly heard loud thunder booming, followed by several drops of rain falling from the sky, soon escalating to a downpour. We sat in silence for a moment.

"Ah, hold on!" Simon shouted. "I've completely lost track of time."

"Oh, you're right. We should be heading back now."

It was then that I had realized exactly how long we had been out there staring at the moon, pondering in thought at the time. When I had left, I recall that it was around 7:00 PM when I had left. Reluctantly and with fear, I checked my wristwatch. It read 10:13 PM. My heart had dropped as I read each digit. Quickly, I attempted to hurry Simon towards the house. But even while doing so, I couldn't help but think about how he had spoken to me at that very moment. It wasn't particularly welcoming or warm, but it wasn't cold either, not calculated, not hearty, not hollow, but seemed somewhat straightforward, in a way. This seemed to be something that he was willing to discuss with me, had he the time to do so. Based on the contents of the clearing, a tent, several items and belongings, I could surmise that this location was some form of hideout or retreat of Simon's. But by the time these thoughts had passed through my head, I had realized that there was a familiar, soft and dim light ahead of me through the dense forest in front of me. I had made sure to hold Simon's hand while I had sprinted back to the home, but I could tell that he was far more composed than I was. "Why was that," I wondered. Had he already been through a similar situation within the past? At this point, It was far too late to ask him any further questions, as we had already arrived back home, safe and sound. But as I had entered the back door, I had realized that the following situation wouldn't be as calm as Simon was in those moments.

As soon as we had both entered the door, the thing that both Simon and I had noticed almost immediately was the abundantly distressed and distraught François, pacing around the kitchen and supposedly dialling the nearby police department. From what he was saying, I assume that he was reporting an abduction to the department. With every word he spoke, he seemed to become more and more frail, becoming weaker as he pondered the possibilities as to where both of his grandchildren had gone. But as he was about to report the details to the officer on the line, he noticed us, promptly dropped the phone and hung up on the police department.

"Where have you guys gone? I was worried sick, you know!"

Though he was evidently frustrated with us and our sudden disappearances from the house, I still could not detect any vicious intent in his words, as he was genuinely worried for our wellbeing, in reality. After hearing how passionate about how Simon was, I certainly couldn't blame him for our disappearances, as it was the one and only time that he had opened up to me.

"I wasn't paying attention," I claimed, "and Simon had accidentally wandered off. It's my fault, really."

Grandpa looked towards me. He said that he admired my honesty, but there was no reason to take the blame for myself, as he had already known about Simon's secret hiding place, which he proceeded to scold Simon profusely about running off to. After being snapped at by Grandpa, I could see several tears well up in Simon's eyes, and he eventually stormed off to his room without further protest, as Grandpa slowly returned to his bedroom, calming down throughout the rest of the night.

As I had left the situation to my room earlier, I simply could not fall asleep after the last situation between Grandpa and Simon, as it was all too dramatic for me to simply forget about and brush off in the end So, as I slowly and progressively gained the confidence to confront my Grandfather, I left my room and entered the living area, where I found him indulging in a rather interesting documentary. It was about plant biology, and as my grandfather was quite fond of gardening and agriculture as a whole, learning about the properties of these plants was something that he found both interesting and relaxing, creating the ultimate distraction for him to forget entirely about the events that had unfolded between himself and Simon. Entering the area, Grandpa François greeted me with the usual.

"Oh, is that you, Natalia? Why are you up so late? Would you like to watch this documentary with me? Speaking of, I've been learning a lot about plants and other crops. For example, did you know that arugula was grown as an edible herb in the Mediterranean area since Roman times?"

"That is interesting, Grandpa," I started, "but I came to ask about what had happened earlier today. Did you check up on Simon after what had happened? I was kind of worried, because he looked to be a bit shaken up by what you had said to him."

"I understand. I did go a little bit too hard on him, but in reality, I was far too worried to comprehend what I was saying at the time. I tried to check up on him, but he wouldn't let me into his bedroom at all, no matter how much I knocked. So I thought it would be best if I waited until he was ready to talk."

Knowing this, I asked Grandpa if he would allow me to knock on his door to check up on him, knowing that he was quite hurt after the events that followed our return to the house. He likely felt like a lot of the blam was shifted on him, as if I hadn't gone to look for him, he likely would've returned as normal, before Grandpa had returned from his errands. However, because I came to his retreat and began talking with him, he had lost track of time, causing us to run back at the wrong time. Knowing that I walked over to his bedroom and knocked on his door, but his only response was to go away. He likely felt that I was partially to blame for his scolding, and as a result, wouldn't let me try to discuss the situation with him. I tried to reason with him, saying that Grandpa forgave him, he wasn't to blame and that he didn't have to be stressed about the situation. But even still, as I made these numerous attempts to console the troubled Simon, he didn't respond. But then, whispering to me, Grandpa began to whisper to me about something I couldn't have expected: Simon's mother. In past years, his mother had been ridiculing him for his adventurous behaviours, even admitting that she thought of him as unruly and as a disgrace to his family's honour, verbally abusing him at a very young age. I had no intention to intrude, but asked where his mother was, only to receive a cold and sudden answer from Grandpa: 

Deceased.