Chapter 11: Spring, Downward
In the Saint-Louis Square, Honoré sits on a bench, enjoying a peaceful moment. The sun is stronger these days, melting the snow. It’s the month of May, the month of Mary, Mother of God. But he prefers to think of it as a time for celebrating births and rebirths. Is that how he feels? Reborn? Or born at last? His nature has awakened. His body feels gorged, like those maple trees he loves so much. Yes, he feels ready to burst with his own sweet sap.
How long has it been since he ventured out this way, in the middle of the afternoon, and in public, too? So long, he can’t recall the last time he even entertained the thought.
Gazing at the trees, he hears a melody in his mind, joyful notes, an allegretto, and his fingers play it on his thighs. He thinks of McGaur
