Being in Brittany, late September, was a cool day. Gaud stepped alone along Ploubazlanek aho towards Pors-Even.
A month ago, the Icelandic ships had returned, leaving two who had disappeared into the June storm. But “Maria” was well with it, Yann and all the other crewmen were at home.
Gaud was very confused when he thought he was on his way to Yann.
One time Gaud had seen him, after his return from Iceland. It was when they all went together to put Sylvestre in the best when he left for military service. They had always carried him up to the caravans. Sylvestre had cried a little, her old grandmother a lot, and then she had left for Brest to take her people. Yann, who had also come farewell to say to his friend, tried to look away when Gaud looked at him, and because there was a lot of crowds around the racing games, – other warriors who left, and their relatives to accompany them, – they had no chance to talk to each other.
Then Gaud had made a brave decision: he left, even with a little bit of anxiety, to Gaosie.
His father had been in the past with Yann’s father (complex things that never ended up among fishermen, like the peasants), and owed him a hundred marks for the price they had sold together.
– You could, Gaud had said, let me take the money, Dad, first of all I’d love to see Maria Gaos, and secondly, I’ve never been so far away in Plaubazlanek and I’d love to go very far.
In fact, he was anxiously curious about the Yann family, whom he might once belong to, and to the house, and to the village.
In his last talk with Sylvestre before his departure, Sylvestre, in his own way, had explained his friend’s shyness:
– You see Gaud, he’s like that now; he has been scolded at the head that he does not want to marry anyone, he does not love anyone else by the sea, and once he said to us, he promised to marry her. Therefore, Gaud forgave him for his strange behavior, and when he always remembered his beautiful, direct smile as a dance night, he began to hope again.
If he were to meet Yann’s home now, he wouldn’t say anything to him, so he wasn’t going to look bold. But when this again saw Gaudi so dirty, he might be talking …
Gaud had already stepped for one hour fast, restless, breathing fresh sea air.
There were large crosses at the crossroads of the road.
From that, he went through the small fishing villages that were winded throughout the year, and that are rocky. In one where the road suddenly penetrated the dark walls, the tallest tops that resemble the roofs of the Celtic cottages, he was amused by another sign of Kapaka: “Chinese cider”. There were two maracas painted in green and red suits, they had long tails, and they drank cider. Undoubtedly the imagination of an old sailor who had been there… As Gaud looked at everyone; When a person thinks well about the goal of his journey, he is always amused, more than others, thousands of little things on the way.
The little village had already fallen behind him and if he walked to the extreme of Brittany, the fewer trees around him, the darker the region.
The earth was undulating and rocky, and from every hill there was an open sea. Finally, there were no more trees at all, a plain fabric with green ajonc shrubs, and images here crucified, depicted against the sky with their hands wide, so that the whole road looked like an infinite hangman field,
At a crossroads, which was also protected by an infinite crucified image, he was in two stages, one of the two, running along the steep slopes.
A little girl was the best to let her get off:
– Good day, Miss Gaud!
It was little Gaos, the little sister of Yann. When she kissed her, Gaud asked her whether her parents were at home.
– Father and mother are. Yann Veikko, but she said innocently, has gone to Loguivy, but I think she won’t stay there for a long time.
So he wasn’t home! The same bad luck always and everywhere separated them. He was already planning to postpone his visit. But the little girl who had seen her on the road, she would probably tell… What would be thought of in the Pors-Even? He decided to continue his journey but delayed as much as possible to get Yann back.
The closer he came to the remote village where Yann lived, the weaker the vegetation, the more desolate. The powerful sea spirit, which made people bigger, made the plants shorter, shorter, harder, crawling along the rough ground. There was a sea lice and strange leaves telling that another world was near. Salty odor spread in the air.
Sometimes Gaud encountered a traveler, a seaman who, when the land was defective, could already see from a distance, and seemed so great when viewed against the distant and high boundary of heaven and sea. Pilots and fishermen, they all stared at the sea, watching the sea; as they walked his side, they greeted him. Dozed, manly, strong shapes, sailor hats away.
Time did not pass, and he really did not know how to lengthen his journey; people wondered when she saw her step so slowly.
What did Yann do in Loguive? She loves her girls…
If he knew how little Yann worried about girls! If she sometimes misses girls, she didn’t need to ask, because “the girls of Pimpol,” as the old Icelandic song says, are a little light-hearted, and they don’t resist the beautiful boys. Didn’t he, he had just gone for orders to make one of the villagers in the village that they had the only one who knew how to make excellent lobster cake. He never thought about love at the moment.
Gaud came in his step to a chapel that was on the hill and was seen far. The chapel was gray, very small and old; In the middle of a rough area surrounded by a group of trees, they were gray and even leafless, they were the hairs that were age-old with the same wiping.
The same hand that knocks the fishermen’s boats, the eternal hand of the west wind, turns the twigs of the trees in the same direction in the same direction as the waves and the whistle go. The old trees had grown up: beating and beating the wind, they had rolled their hands down the 100-year-oldest of their hands.
Gaud was almost at his end, as it was the Pors-Eveni chapel; he stopped, still to win time.
The small fallen hole surrounds the burial ground. Everything was the same color, the chapel, the trees, the tombs, the whole locality seemed one day toast, eating the sea breezes; the same greyish lichen with sparkly yellow spots covered the stones, the evil branches and the granitic saints in the recesses of the lattice.
The name was written in capital letters: “Gaos.
– Gaos, Joel, eighty years”.
So! Grandfather, Gaud knew him. The sea was not cared for by him, an old sailor; it was natural that he should have known it; and yet did it a painful effect on him when he read this name on the tomb.
To consume another moment, he entered the old-fashioned, dilapidated, white-plastered door to read the prayer. But as he stepped in, he paused, taking on even greater pain.
Gaos! yet that name, curved on the board, was used to hang on to the walls of the church in memory of those who perished at sea.
He began to read the writing:
In memory of
Jean-Louis Gaos ,
24 years old, sailor Margareta ,
disappeared in Iceland at 3 pm on August 1877.
He will rest in peace!
Iceland, – always Iceland! – Every place in this part of the chapel was nailed with similar wooden boards with the names of the dead sailors. This was the corner of the Pors-Even shipwreckers, he already regretted coming, the gloomy hunch had taken him. In Paimpol’s church he had seen similar writings, but in this village it was smaller, more dilapidated, darker, the empty tomb of Icelandic fishermen, on each side there was a granite bench for widows and mothers; and the low vault, which was unclean when the cave was, was protected by an old virgin image, painted red, and had large eyes of Hijy, it was Cybele, the goddess of the earth.
In memory of
François Gaosista ,
married to Anna-Maria, b. Goaster ,
captain onboard Paimpolais ,
drowned in Iceland at 1 or 3 on April. 1877, with
all his crew, twenty-three men.
Rest algae in peace!
There were two bones underneath it under a black, green-eyed skull, – a simple picture of death, still hiding the brutality of past times.
Gaos! everywhere the same name!
A few Gaos, called Yves, were “waves rinsed from the ship’s deck and he was drowned near Norden-Fiord, Iceland, twenty-two years old.” The bill seemed to have been there for many years, and he’d probably been forgotten some time ago.
Reading Gaudi’s mind became charming, screaming, affectionately, and at the same time almost desperate, he recalled Yannia. You will never, never Yann become his own! How could he conquer Yann from the sea when there were so many Gaia, ancestors and brothers who had been like him in many respects.
He went to the chapel, which was already dim, with little light in its shallow, deep windows. . Outside, the wind accelerated and began to roar, bringing some of the grievances of young men who died in Bretagne.
The evening approached, Finally, he had to decide and submit his case.
He continued his journey and asked the road in the village, finding a Gaosie house built against a high rock; it got up to twelve granite steps. Feeling a little shaken when thinking that perhaps Yann had already come home, he went across a small garden with daisies and constellations.
As soon as he arrived, he said he would bring money from the price of the boat that was sold, and he was politely asked to sit and wait for his father to give him a receipt.
Among those present, his eyes were looking for Yann, but he was not seen.
The house was in full swing, with a large white table cut out of a new pump fabric made of oil for the upcoming Iceland trip.
– You see, Miss Gaud, they need every two perfect suits on their way.
Then he was explained how these suits are painted and oiled.
Meanwhile, when he was thoroughly explained to him, he
looked at Gaosie’s apartment.
It was decorated, as the Breton houses usually are, the stern was an inconceivably large oven, on both sides it had high beds. But it wasn’t so dark and so dark when the farmers’ cottages, which are always halfway in the country, were bright and clean, as is usually the case with the beaches of the coasters.
There were several little Gaiaos, boys and girls, Yann’s brothers and sisters, plus two adults who were at sea. Then there was another, small, white-blooded, true, pretty girl who wasn’t looking at others.
– Last year we took him to our breeding, Mom explained, even though he is still there; but what did it, Miss Gaud, her father was Maria-Dieu-t’aime [Maria-God-you-loves. Sm], who drowned last year on Iceland’s journey, as you know, – we neighbors then decided to divide the children, five pieces, with each other, and this was our part.
When the little girl heard that she was talking about, she looked at the ground and hid laughing against Laumek Gaia, her best friend.
Everything in the house expressed wealth and hilarious health shone on the red cheeks of the children.
For the sake of Gaudi, a beautiful girl was made and worked, and her visit gave the house glory. Along with the new white wooden stairs, he was brought to the upper chamber, where the house was proud. Gaud remembered well how this layer was built; it was made because the father Gaos and his cousin, the pilot, had found a ship that had been shipwrecked from the Canal; as a dancer, Yann had told about it.
This shipwreck was fun and happy, it was white and new. It had two beds, an urban style, with extras from red maple; in the middle of the room was a large table. The window saw the entire Paimpol, the whole coastline and the “Icelanders” at their anchorage, and the strait from which they left.
He did not dare to ask, but he would have liked to know where Yann was lying; as a child, he probably had been lying down, in some of those old-fashioned, high beds. But now he might be lying here behind these beautiful, red extremes, Gaud would have liked to know all the small private things in his life, especially how he spent his long winter nights…
… The steep steps of the stairs made him spat.
It wasn’t Yann, but the man who was good at him, even though he was already grayish, he was almost as big and straight as Yann, it was Father Gaos who came from the fish.
After greeting Gaudi and hearing the reason for his visit, the hubby wrote a receipt that took a lot of time, as his hand, he said, was no longer certain. Otherwise he did not receive these hundred marks as a final performance, through which he would be completely separated from the ship’s trade, not, but only as an abbreviation, he was still going to talk about the matter with Mr. Merida. And Gaud, who didn’t care about the money, stumbled but a little, be it past, the thing wasn’t over yet, as he had guessed, otherwise he was mindful of being with Gaosie.
They almost apologized for the fact that Yann was not at home, as if it would have been better for the whole family to be gathered to receive him. Maybe the father had guessed, with the cunning of the old sailor, that his son was not indifferent to this beautiful heir; for a little stubbornly, the hubby always started talking about him.
– It’s strange, he said, he never saw a long delay. He went to Loguivi, Miss Gaud, to buy lobster; As you know, we ask the winter to get the best from lobster.
Gaud lengthened his distraction, he knew he was late, but every time he thought he wouldn’t be able to meet Yann, he began to distress his heart.
– Is that Yann a wise man, what would he do? In Kapaka, he is not, it is for sure, we never have to be afraid of it. – Of course, sometimes, on Sundays, with partners … You know, Miss Gaud, sailors. The time of goodness when you are young, why should it be kept separate?… But rarely does he – he is a wise man, we can guarantee it.
In the meantime, the night had come, the existing oil cloths had been wrapped up, the work was finished. The little Gaosi and the little girl in the bench sat down on the dirt, the dusk of the evening had made them true, and looking at Gaud, they seemed to ask each other:
“Well, but why didn’t he go?”
And the fireplace blade began to dazzle the red light in the room.
– Don’t you want to eat dinner with us, Miss Gaud?
Of course he couldn’t, the blood suddenly reached him as he thought he had stayed so long. He got up and said farewell.
Yann’s father had also risen up to follow him on some part of the road, past a remote junk where the old trees made the road dark. As they passed by, the feeling of respect and affection towards their followers captured Gaudi, and he was minded to speak with him about his anxiety, as with his father. But the words grabbed the throat and he said nothing.
They went forward in the cool wind of the evening, which smelled from the sea, and occasionally they went to the side of a cottage with a flat cloth, the doors were already closed, they looked gloomy with their steep roofs; they were the miserable nests where the fishermen had clogged; Against them came a cross, shrubs, and stones.
How far away from Pors-Even was how long he stayed!
Sometimes they encountered some of those who returned from Paimpol or Loguiv, who once saw a man’s ghost approaching, he thought of Yann, but he could easily be known from afar, and soon he found himself mistaken. His legs became entangled in long brown plants that were tangled when haired, they were a seaweed that was on the path.
At Plouëzoch’s cross, Gaud said farewell to the elderly and asked him to return. You’ve already seen Paimpol, and he no longer had any reason to fear.
So it was at the end of this time… And who’s because he should now see Yannia…
The excuses to return to Pors-Even would not have been missing, but it would have seemed too inappropriate to go there again. I had to be bolder and proud. If even Sylvestre, his belief, had still been here, he might have been able to go for Gaudi to see Yunnan meet and force him to explain. But he was a boy and how many years?…