Between our hands

Chapter 4: The Weight of the Unknown.

Three days after the unsettling visit from Mr. Hassan and Mr. Trahan, a sense of unease blanketed the Georges' farm like an autumn fog. The days had passed slowly, each minute feeling heavier than the last, and the farm, usually a haven of peace, had become the stage for an omnipresent anxiety.

Maëlle stood by the kitchen window, watching the fields bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The morning light, soft and diffuse, contrasted with the inner turmoil she felt. The wheat fields, gently swaying in the breeze, seemed unchanging, but to Maëlle, every blade of grass, every leaf, reflected a false tranquility. The daily routine, once a comforting refuge, now only emphasized the divide between their former life and the new reality they were forced to face.

Samuel, her grandfather, had begun his day as usual, rising before dawn to start his tasks. But something in his movements betrayed a deeper fatigue than on typical mornings. Each step seemed calculated, measured, as if the weight of responsibility and worry was bearing down on him. His movements were slow, almost hesitant, and his eyes, usually sharp, were clouded with a gravity Maëlle had never seen before.

Victoria, on the other hand, was bustling in the kitchen with visible frenzy. She kneaded the dough for the morning bread with an almost desperate energy, her brisk movements betraying a growing nervousness. The sound of the rolling pin and the crackling of the dough under her hands were the only noises breaking the heavy silence in the house.

The daily routine carried on, but it had become a fragile façade. The familiar sounds of the farm—the birds' song, the whisper of the wind in the trees—were now perceived as interruptions in a silent drama. Samuel and Victoria, absorbed in their respective tasks, exchanged worried glances, but the words felt too heavy to be spoken.

That morning, before the sun had fully risen over the horizon, a familiar sound broke the oppressive silence: the slow hum of a motorcycle approaching. Maëlle, peering through the window, squinted to recognize the familiar figure of the postman on his old two-wheeler. He usually passed by later in the day, and his early arrival stirred a vague sense of dread within her. The mailbox, usually overlooked at this hour, suddenly transformed into a symbol of looming threat.

Samuel, who had been fixing a cart's winch, quickly strode over to retrieve the mail. His movements were faster than usual, as if he were trying to outrun a fear he couldn’t articulate. The postman, while exchanging a few words with Samuel, cast a furtive glance toward the house, as if aware of the gravity of what he was delivering. The envelope, thick and sealed with an official stamp, seemed to radiate urgency, which did not go unnoticed by Maëlle. Samuel, his eyes fixed on the object of his concern, walked back to the house with a slow, weighted step.

Inside, the atmosphere grew even heavier, every family member freezing upon seeing Samuel's worried expression. The silence had become so dense that one could almost hear each person’s heartbeat. Victoria, having just finished preparing breakfast, quickly wiped her hands on her apron. Her wide eyes reflected growing concern as she approached Samuel.

“What is it, Samuel?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to maintain a calm tone.

Without a word, Samuel headed to the living room. The sound of tearing paper, the snap of the broken seal, echoed through the room like a thunderclap, amplifying the sense of dread. The other family members, drawn to this unusual scene, gathered around him, their faces marked by growing anxiety. All attention was focused on Samuel as he carefully opened the envelope with his pocket knife, every movement filled with solemnity.

He unfolded the letter with care, his eyes scanning the first lines. His already worried face tightened further as he read the contents. The room was filled with a palpable sense of anticipation, each person holding their breath, awaiting the confirmation of their fears.

Finally, after a moment of almost unbearable intensity, Samuel read aloud, “We are summoned to Paris. The entire family must go to the capital to meet with a lawyer representing the interests of Mr. Ben Ali. They say it’s urgent, that it can’t wait.”

The words hung in the air, each syllable weighing heavily on the family’s shoulders. A thick silence fell over the room as everyone absorbed the information in their own way. Marie, standing by the counter, slowly set down the bowl of milk she had been holding, her fingers gripping the object as if seeking comfort from it. Sacha, sitting near the window, turned his gaze away, stubbornly fixing his eyes on the horizon as if to escape the reality unfolding before them. Daniel, true to his habit, ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tic betraying his anxiety. Nahïa, on the other hand, remained still, her eyes fixed on the floor, as if searching for meaning in the worn patterns of the tiles.

Victoria, who had remained silent until now, sat next to Samuel. She gently took his arm, seeking to share the burden of the looming decision. “What do we do, Samuel?” she asked, her voice barely concealing her growing fear.

Samuel looked at her for a long moment, seeking mutual support in her eyes. “We have to go. There’s no choice. It’s an official summons, and they stress the urgency.” He paused, trying to gauge his wife’s feelings. “We can’t ignore this.”

Murmurs began to spread among the other family members, each expressing their worries and apprehensions. Marie turned to Mickaël, who had stayed quiet until now. “What if we refuse to go? What if we say no?” she asked, her voice trembling, revealing her fear of facing this situation.

Mickaël shook his head, his face showing determination. “Refusing isn’t really an option. This kind of thing... you can’t just turn your back on it. We at least need to know what it’s about.” His words, though pragmatic, did nothing to ease the growing anxiety in the room.

The ensuing discussion focused on the practical details of the trip. How to organize their departure, how to manage the farm in their absence. The contrast between their quiet life in the countryside and the impending chaos of Paris felt almost unreal. Yet everyone knew it was inevitable. This summons represented more than just a simple meeting. It was the first step toward an upheaval whose magnitude was still unknown.

Maëlle, listening distractedly to the exchanges around her, felt an increasing weight on her shoulders. Every word, every sentence seemed to pull her deeper into a reality she dreaded. The prospect of leaving their peaceful existence to face the uncertainty of Paris terrified her. Why them? Why was this family, so deeply rooted in the tranquility of the countryside, suddenly entangled in such a complex and mysterious affair?

The hours passed slowly, each moment amplifying the tension already present. Preparations for the trip intensified, each family member trying to stay useful in an increasingly chaotic environment. The suitcases were packed sooner than expected, carefully placed near the front door, marking the first step toward a reality that seemed more and more inevitable. Charles, the youngest, joyfully ran around the house, blissfully unaware of the stakes and worries weighing on the adults. His innocence and happiness stood in stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere, offering a poignant reminder of the situation.

By evening, the family gathered for one last meal before the big departure. Around the table, conversations were slow, punctuated by long silences. Faces were marked by fatigue, anxiety, and a near palpable sadness. The usual laughter and lively exchanges were absent. The family members seemed lost in their thoughts, each trying to understand the significance of this journey.

Maëlle studied the faces of her loved ones, attempting to decipher their emotions and grasp what they were feeling. Victor, who usually knew how to lighten the mood, remained strangely silent, lost in his own introspection. The collective nervousness was palpable, and the meal, though carefully prepared, felt heavy and tasteless.

As night fell, a sense of anticipation mixed with fear enveloped the farm. Tomorrow, they would leave behind everything they knew to face an uncertain future in Paris. The transition from the serenity of their daily life to the unknown awaiting them was sharply felt. The farm, steeped in an atmosphere of silent anxiety, prepared to say goodbye to its tranquility for a journey that would forever alter the Georges' destiny.