I clung there for a moment, letting my pounding heart quiet. Then, with my back wedged safely against the pillar, I hauled the treasure chest up and out of its muddy cradle. It was a difficult job. The box itself was not especially heavy, but weighted with chain and tarpaulin as it was, it seemed a dead weight. Trembling with cold now, my teeth chattering, I struggled with the chain and finally felt something give. Kicking my legs frantically to keep my position against the pillar, I hauled at the box. I knew another moment of near panic as the mud-slimed tarpaulin caught at my feet, then my fingers were working at the rope that held the box. For an instant I was sure that my numbed fingers would not be able to open the tin, then the catch gave way and water rushed into the treasure chest. I swore. Still, there was the purse, an old brown leather thing Mother had discarded because of a faulty catch. I grabbed it and jammed it between my teeth for safety, then with a final effort, slammed the box closed and let it sink, weighted by its chain, to the bottom again. The tarpaulin was lost, of course, the remaining treasure waterlogged, but that couldnt be helped. Cassis would have to find somewhere drier to hide his cigarettes. I had the money, and that was all that mattered.
I swam back to the bank, missing the last two pillars and drifting two hundred meters down toward the Angers road before I managed to steer myself out of the current-more like a dog than ever, a mad brown dog with its leash twined crazily around my frozen legs. The whole episode, I guessed, had taken maybe ten minutes.
I forced myself to rest awhile, feeling the slight warmth of the suns first rays on my face, drying the mud of the Loire against my skin. I was trembling with cold and exhilaration. I counted the money in the purse there was certainly enough for a cinema ticket and a glass of juice. Good. Then I walked upstream to where I had left my clothes. I dressed an old skirt and a red sleeveless mans shirt cut down to make a smock. My clogs. I did a perfunctory check on my fishing traps, tipping out the small fry or leaving it in place as bait. In a cray pot by the Lookout Post there was the unexpected bonus of a small pike not Old Mother, of course and this I slid out into the bucket I had brought from the house. Other catches: a mess of eels from the muddy flats beside the big sandbank, a sizable bleak from one of my catch all nets. I piled them all into the bucket. They would be my alibi if Cassis and Reine were already awake. Then I made my way home through the fields as unobtrusively as I had come.
I did well to bring the fish. Cassis was washing under the pump when I got back, though Reinette had warmed a basin of water and was dabbling delicately at her face with a soapy washrag. They looked at me curiously for a moment, then Cassiss face relaxed into an expression of cheery contempt.
You never give up, do you? he said, jerking his dripping head at the fish bucket. What you got in there, anyway?
I shrugged.
Couple of things, I said carelessly. The purse was in the pocket of my smock, and I smiled inwardly at its comforting weight. Pike. Just a small one, I said.
Cassis laughed.
You might catch the small ones, but youll never catch Old Mother, he said. Even if you did, whatd you do with it? A pike that old wouldnt be any good to eat. Bitter as wormwood and full of bones.
Ill catch her, I said stubbornly.
Oh? His tone was careless, disbelieving. And what then? Youll make a wish, will you? Wish for a million francs and an apartment on the Left Bank?
I shook my head mutely.
Id wish to be a movie star, said Reine, toweling her face. To see Hollywood, and the lights, and Sunset Boulevard, and to drive in a limousine and to have dozens and dozens of dresses
Cassis gave her a brief look of scorn, which cheered me immensely. Then he turned to me.
Well, what about it, Boise? His grin was brash and irresistible. Whats it going to be? Furs? Cars? A villa in Juan-les-Pins?
I shook my head again.
Ill know when Ive caught it, I said flatly. And Ill get it too. See if I dont.
Cassis studied me for a moment, the grin sliding from his face. Then he made a little noise of disgust and turned back to his ablutions.
Youre something, Boise, he said. Really something, you know?
Then we raced off to finish the days chores before Mother woke up.
12
There is always plenty to do on a farm. Water to bring in from the pump, leaving it in metal buckets on the cellar tiles so that the sun doesnt warm it, goats to milk, the pail to be covered with a muslin cloth and left in the dairy, the goats then taken to the pasture so that they dont eat all the vegetables in the garden, hens and ducks to feed, the days crop of ripe strawberries to pick, the baking oven to stoke even though I doubted Mother would be doing much baking today. The horse, Bécassine, to be let out into the pasture and fresh water brought to the troughs. Working at maximum speed it took us the best part of two hours to finish, and by the time we did the suns heat was gaining, the night damp already steaming off the baked-earth paths and the dew drying on the grass. It was time to go.
Neither Reinette nor Cassis had mentioned the money question. There was no need. I paid my way, Cassis had told me, assuming that this would be impossible. Reine looked at me oddly as we picked the last of the strawberries, wondering perhaps at my self assurance, and when she caught Cassiss eye she giggled. I noticed that she had dressed with especial care this morning her pleated school skirt, ankle socks and shoes with a red short sleeved sweater and her hair was rolled into a fat sausage at the back of her head, secured with hairpins. She smelt unfamiliar too, a kind of sweetish powdery smell like marshmallow and violets, and she was wearing the red lipstick. I wondered if she was meeting someone. A boy, perhaps. Someone she knew from school. She certainly seemed more nervous than usual, picking the fruit with the delicate haste of a rabbit feeding among weasels. As I moved between the rows of strawberry plants I heard her whisper something to Cassis, then I heard her high, nervous giggle.
I shrugged inwardly. I supposed they were planning to go off somewhere without me. I had persuaded Reine to take me, and they would not go back on that promise. But as far as they knew, I had no money. That meant they could go to the pictures without me, perhaps leaving me by the fountain in the market square to wait for them, or sending me on an imaginary errand while they went to meet their friends Sourly I bit down on the thought. That was supposed to be how it went. So sure of themselves that they had overlooked the one obvious solution to my problem. Reine would never have swum the Loire to the Treasure Stone. Cassis still saw me as the little sister, too much in awe of the adored older brother to hazard the slightest thing without his permission. Occasionally he looked at me and grinned his satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with mockery.
We left for Angers at eight oclock, I riding on the back wheel of Cassiss huge ungainly bike with my feet wedged perilously beneath the handlebars. Reines bicycle was smaller and more elegant, with high handlebars and a leather saddle. There was a bicycle basket across the handlebars in which she carried a flask of chicory coffee, and three identical packets of sandwiches. Reine had tied a white scarf around her head to protect her coiffure, and the tails whipped at her nape as she rode. We stopped three or four times on our way to drink from the flask in Reines bicycle basket, to check a soft tire, to eat a piece of bread and cheese in lieu of breakfast. At last we came to the suburbs of Angers, passing the collège closed now for the holidays and guarded by a pair of German soldiers at the gate and down streets of stucco houses toward the town center.
We left for Angers at eight oclock, I riding on the back wheel of Cassiss huge ungainly bike with my feet wedged perilously beneath the handlebars. Reines bicycle was smaller and more elegant, with high handlebars and a leather saddle. There was a bicycle basket across the handlebars in which she carried a flask of chicory coffee, and three identical packets of sandwiches. Reine had tied a white scarf around her head to protect her coiffure, and the tails whipped at her nape as she rode. We stopped three or four times on our way to drink from the flask in Reines bicycle basket, to check a soft tire, to eat a piece of bread and cheese in lieu of breakfast. At last we came to the suburbs of Angers, passing the collège closed now for the holidays and guarded by a pair of German soldiers at the gate and down streets of stucco houses toward the town center.
The cinema, the Palais-Doré, was in the main square, close to where the market was held. Several rows of small shops lined the square, most of which were opening for the morning, and a man was washing down the pavement with a bucket of water and a broom. We pushed the bikes then, steering them into an alley between a barbers and shuttered butchers shop. The alley was barely wide enough to walk through, and the ground was piled with rubble and debris; it seemed safe to assume that our bikes would be left alone. A woman at the terrasse of a café smiled at us and called a greeting; a few Sunday customers were already there, drinking bowls of chicory and eating croissants or hard-boiled eggs. A delivery boy went by on a bicycle, ringing his bell importantly; by the church a newspaper stand sold single-sheet bulletins. Cassis looked round, then made his way to the newsstand. I saw him hand something to the newspaper man, then the man handed Cassis a bundle, which quickly vanished into Cassiss trouser waistband.
What was that? I asked.
Cassis shrugged. I could see that he was pleased with himself, too pleased to withhold the information just to annoy me. He lowered his voice conspiratorially and allowed me a glimpse of rolled-up papers, which he immediately covered up again.
Comic books. Serial story. He winked at Reine self-importantly. American film magazine.
Reine uttered a squeak of excitement and made as if to grab his arm.
Let me, let me see!
Cassis shook his head irritably.
Shh! For Gods sake, Reine! He lowered his tone again. He owed me a favor. Black market, he mouthed. Kept them for me under the counter.
Reinette looked at him in awe. I was less impressed. Perhaps because I was less aware of the scarcity of such items; perhaps because the seeds of rebellion already growing in me pushed me to scorn anything of which my brother seemed overly proud. I gave a shrug to show my indifference. Still, I wondered what kind of favor the newspaper man might have owed Cassis, and finally concluded that he must have been bragging. I said as much.
If I had contacts with the black market, I said with a passable show of skepticism, Id make sure I got better stuff than a few old papers.
Cassis looked stung.
I can get anything I want, he said quickly. Comics, smokes, books, real coffee chocolate- He broke off with a scornful laugh. You cant even get the money for a rotten cinema ticket! he said.
No?
Smiling, I took the purse from out of my apron pocket. I jingled it a little, so that he could hear the coins inside. His eyes widened as he recognized the purse.
You little thief! he breathed at last. You rotten, bitching little thief!
I looked at him, but said nothing.
How did you get that?
Swum out and got it, I answered defiantly. Anyway, it wasnt stealing. The treasure belonged to all of us.
But Cassis was hardly listening.
You bitching, thieving he said again.
Clearly he was disturbed that anyone other than he should obtain anything by guile.
I dont see that its any different from you and your black market, I said calmly. Its all the same game, isnt it? I let this sink in before I continued. And youre just upset because Im better at it than you.
Cassis glared at me.
It isnt anything like the same thing, he said at last.
I kept my expression disbelieving. It was always so easy to make Cassis give himself away. Just like his son, all those years later. Neither of them ever understood anything about guile.
Cassis was red-faced, almost shouting now, his conspiratorial tone forgotten.
I could get you anything you liked. Proper fishing tackle for your stupid pike, he hissed savagely. Chewing gum, shoes, silk stockings, silk underwear if you wanted-
I laughed aloud at that. Brought up as we had been, the idea of silk underwear was ludicrous. Enraged, Cassis grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me.
You stop that! His voice cracked with fury. I got friends! I know people! I could get-you-anything-you-wanted!
You see how easy it was to take him off balance. Cassis was spoiled in his way, too used to being the great older brother, the man of the house, the first to go to school, the tallest, the strongest, the wisest. His occasional bouts of wildness his escapades into the woods, his daredevilry on the Loire, his small thefts from market stalls and shops in Angers were uncontrolled, almost hysterical. He took no enjoyment from them. It was as if he needed to prove something to both of us, or to himself.
I could tell I perplexed him. His thumbs were digging so deeply into my arms that they would make great ripe blackberry marks on my skin the next day, but I did not show any sign of it. Instead I just looked at him steadily and tried to stare him out.
Weve got friends, Reine and me, he said in a lower voice, almost reasonable now, his thumbs still gouging into my arms. Powerful friends. Where do you think she got that stupid lipstick? Or the perfume? Or that stuff she puts on her face at night? Where dyou think we got all that from? And how dyou think we earned it?
He let go of my arms then with an expression of mingled pride and consternation, and I realized that he was slick with fear.
13
I dont remember very much about the film. Circonstances Atténuantes, with Arletty and Michel Simon, an old film that Cassis and Reine had already seen. Reine at least was untroubled by the fact; she stared at the screen the whole time, rapt. I found the story unlikely, too removed from my realities. Besides, my mind was on other things. Twice the film in the projector broke; the second time the houselights went on and the audience roared disapproval. A harassed-looking man in a dinner jacket shouted for silence. A group of Germans in a corner, feet resting on the seats in front of them, began slow-clapping. Suddenly Reine, who had come out of her trance to complain irritably about the interruption, gave a squeak of excitement.
Cassis! She leaned over me and I could smell a sweetish chemical scent in her hair. Cassis, hes here!
Shh! hissed Cassis furiously. Dont look back!
Reine and Cassis sat facing the front of the auditorium for a moment, expressionless as dummies. Then he spoke, from the corner of his mouth, like someone whispering in church.
Who?
Reinette flicked a glance at the Germans from the corner of her eye.
Back there, she replied in the same fashion. Some others I dont know.
Around us the crowd stamped and yelled. Cassis ventured a quick look.
Ill wait till the lights go down, he said.