For one terrible moment, the two of us were frozen – me with the plate still in my hand, still hovering, still tilted but now empty, and him with arms slightly pulled back, the beans still making their way down his clothes and dropping to the floor with tiny thuds.

And then he looked at me, his direct gaze still as challenging as I remembered it had always been. He lifted his arm, and I flinched reflexively. Instead of hitting me, or shoving me away, I was shocked when he placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. His face broke into a cheerful smile. “No worries about that,” he said, patting my shoulder. “Happens to all of us.”

I should have turned around and walked away, grateful that he supposedly couldn’t recognize me, but it made absolutely no sense, and the logical part of my brain stared back at him uncomprehendingly. “Bruce,” I said stupidly. “It’s me. Brieuc.”

Bruce – the same Bruce who had bullied me all throughout my childhood, had made it difficult for me to attend school when I knew he would be there, and who used to lob stones at me when I was working in my father’s farm – chuckled. “I know who you are!” he said, patting my shoulder again. “Good to have you back, Brieuc. Been a while since we last saw you roundabouts.”

My mind flashed back to the day I left the village. I had a very clear memory of Bruce, walking along the side of the road as I sat in the little coach, leaving the only home I had ever known. A very clear memory of Bruce looking up as I passed, making eye contact with me, and sending me a particularly rude and obscene hand gesture. This was that same Bruce – the one who had held a strange hostility for me since we were just boys – and yet he clapped me on the shoulders and welcomed me home now.

It was enough to make me feel quite disoriented. “Are you… Are you alright?” I asked him, because I did not know what else to say.

“’Course,” Bruce replied, tilting his head to the side. The smile never left his face – but most unsettling about it all was that it seemed a genuine thing, not the least bit like the kind of smirk he used to give me when he was about to make my life as difficult as he could. “You’ve moved back into your father’s house now, eh?”

I nodded mutely.

“Well, I suppose it’s your house, now,” he continued. “Did a few odd jobs for your old man before he died, you know. Just this and that around the farm. It was nice. Always felt a lot happier around that farm.”

“You used to throw stones at me,” I said. It was the only thing that came to my mouth in the moment, but it felt somewhat appropriate. The more he spoke with me as though we were old friends that had just been reunited, the angrier I felt. “You used to wait for me to leave the farm and throw mud at me.”

Bruce’s brows raised. “Oh – I did, didn’t I?” he replied, then shook his head with an easy grin. “Bit of good fun, I suppose. Good times.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“No,” I said, stepping away. “No, they weren’t.”

🍃

Meeting with Bruce had felt like the universe had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I was in part confused and in part enraged. Something about the whole thing felt abnormal, and perhaps I had simply misapprehended the true meaning behind his behaviour. Maybe it wasn’t genuine at all, but rather a part of a ruse, another mean plot to make me feel horrible. It had certainly worked, if that was the case.

But Bruce had always been a straightforward person. Certainly, he’d hide from the adults as a child and pretend he was as innocent as a garden gnome in the day, but when it was just me and him, he was nothing short of evil. He didn’t resort to these kinds of roundabout tricks. Did he?

I wouldn’t know anymore, I told myself. People changed over time. Things changed. Regardless, it was better left behind me. I did not want to meet the man again. With my lunch plans completely ruined, I trudged back home, resigned to whipping up some small meal for myself. Despite the day’s sour turn of events, I was still hungry, and I saw no reason to keep myself from eating simply because I felt miserable.

It wasn’t until I was well past the edge of Idel’s land that I heard the door to his house open, and out came the little girl. Lily – that was her name, wasn’t it? She wore a blue dress now, and she clutched on to a worn old teddy bear that seemed as though it should have been thrown away a very long time ago. Just like the last time I’d stopped by, the little girl was giggling again – no, this time, it was a bit stronger than just a giggle. It was laughter, from the bottom of her belly, loud and raucous. She could hardly walk without another peal of laughter bringing her almost to her knees.

I found myself smiling at her, as one tends to do naturally when they see others laughing so wholeheartedly. Whatever it was that had amused her, I should have liked to know what it was! Perhaps it would lift my own spirits somewhat. If she saw me, the little girl did not make it clear. She went round the back of her grandfather’s house again, disappearing from view, just as she had the last time I’d dropped by and spoken to Idel.

“She’s been laughing like that since last night.” Idel’s gravelly voice startled me, and I jumped to find him standing beside me on the glow-brick road that went past our lands and connected us to the village center. “Seems to me that living here has done her some good,” he added.

It took me a moment to register his words. “Laughing like that since last night?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, his own smile as wide as ever. “Could hardly sleep with her laughing like that all night. Non-stop, you know. Couldn’t even eat her breakfast this morning. Almost choked, she was laughing so hard!” He shrugged and gave a contented sigh as he watched his recently orphaned granddaughter pop in and out of view as she ran around the backyard. “She must really like it here. Who wouldn’t?”

“I’m sorry, but is that… normal?” I asked dubiously. Even then, she hadn’t stopped laughing. “I’m quite certain that there must be something wrong there...”

“Wrong?” Idel’s bushy brows shot up in surprise. “There is nothing wrong with a little happiness, is there? That poor child has been through the ringer, but here, she’s as happy as a hobgoblin in a mansion. Everyone’s happy here. Why would that be wrong?”

While he did not seem offended in the least, his good humour ever-present, I still felt it prudent to tread carefully. “It is good that she is happy, Idel – of course it is,” I said placatingly. “But, surely you can see the problem here. You said yourself that she couldn’t even finish her food – she almost choked on it – and that she’s been laughing like that ever since last night! Idel, there has to be something wrong with her.”

“Nonsense!” Idel replied stubbornly. “Lily is as healthy and as happy as a garden gnome in the moonlight, my lad! Laughter is the best kind of medicine there is, don’t you know? There is absolutely nothing to worry about at all!” I wanted to protest some more, but he opened his gate and stepped inside. “Now, I’ve got some lovely potatoes that need harvesting before sundown. I’m sure you’ve got your own lot of work to do back at home. Get going, lad, or you’ll miss the best part of the day!”

And with that, the old man was walking up to his house, whistling a cheerful tune I’d never heard before. For a moment, I watched in disbelief. Had Idel always been so bull-headed? Had he always been so… so carefree? Was I wrong about Lily? Had I overstepped my bounds?

I went on my way, and all the while, Lily’s laughter followed me, growing fainter and fainter as I went farther and farther, and I could not help but think that something terrible was going to happen.