MY MOTHER'S CASTLE
In those days, I was still a boy...
...but I'd found my life's love...
...the hills of Provence.
A wonderful summer had flown by.
Lili!
Marcel!
The holidays were over.
I knew I couldn't wait a whole year...
...before seeing my dear hills.
I had to find a way.
I was ready for anything.
Mom.
Each day saw a fresh start to the story of Augustine...
...and her three men.
My father, Joseph, had returned to his daily life...
...as if the happy holidays counted for nothing.
He went to school with us. We went to school with him.
Good morning, Teacher.
Good holiday?
Of all the fathers, mine was the only one who could cross the threshold of the door.
"Autumn...
"...comma...
"...with its gusts of wind...
"...comma...
"...its long sighs..."
Instead of the dictation, I'd hear the humming cicadas.
"...its muddy footpaths..."
I'd see fig and olive trees.
I wasn't in class. I was roaming over my hills.
"Period!"
Come in.
That's him.
- It's you! - It's you.
It's me?
- Bravo! - Congratulations.
- It's remarkable. - Quite remarkable.
A fate far worse than punishment awaited me.
I was to be the school's candidate...
...for the fearsome scholarship exams.
Chosen as the school's champion, I had intensive coaching.
I was left without a moment of peace.
Cambrai, Douai, Dunkerque, Valenciennes, Avesnes.
And Pas- de- Calais?
Capital: Arras. Main towns: Bethune, Boulogne.
We had...
...a good holiday.
The good holiday which we had.
The good holiday which...
...we had.
Are you all right, Marcel?
Honestly, Augustine...
Too much learning can't hurt him.
You don't have a headache?
My sweet Augustine tended to me like a convalescent...
...and cooked some delicious meals...
...unfortunately preceded by a dose of cod- liver oil.
When I had school on Thursday...
- It's Thursday. - What?
- "Rock- a- bye baby..." - Thursday, that sacrosanct day off...
...I rebelled, venting my anger on poor Paul.
It was Paul!
Even Dad stays here Thursdays!
The teachers took turns with me...
...like police officers questioning a suspect.
One Thursday morning, I made a detour.
Since Father had often told me, I knew that God didn't exist.
But I wasn't completely sure.
Sailors hear the call of the sea.
I had felt the call of the hills.
Those hills of mine were calling me.
Garlaban, Taoumé, Red Head...
...I salute you.
- Dad? - Yes.
- I've something to tell you. - Me, too.
But it's important!
City air isn't good for Mom.
What?
You said pure air is best for her.
It's a figure of speech. So what?
So I've an idea.
It's best if we live all year in the hills!
- What about school? - It's all right.
We can come to Marseilles each morning.
- Who will? - You and me.
- On foot? - On a bicycle.
- What bicycle? - Uncle Jules can lend you his.
- One for the two of us? - I'll sit on the crossbar.
What about winter nights?
I'll carry a lantern.
Come on, Marcel. You can see it'll never work.
Dad...
...weren't you happy in the hills, too?
- Of course. - Then why won't you go back?
I was very happy in the hills. But you know...
...we were all very happy in the hills.
Weren't we, Augustine?
That's why we're going back there for Christmas!
At Christmas?
We're spending Christmas there. Didn't Dad tell you?
Marcel didn't let me speak a word.
Children, this holiday is Mom's idea.
She insisted, so that I had to give in to her, as always.
Mother...
Thank you.
My mother, decked out in furs...
...all rabbit fur, of course...
...looked like the beautiful Canadian skaters...
...who glided on the post- office timetables.
- Will we go even if it rains? - Yes.
We'll make ourselves thin and rush between the drops.
Perhaps there'll be snow!
- Like at the North Pole? - Exactly.
Perhaps there'll be bears?
Oh, that...
Colander. Funnel.
Pan. Coffee grinder.
- Cheese grater. - No.
Where is it? Get it.
Brush, candles, rifle case, wicks.
- I want to pee! - Matches.
- Here's the grater. - Good.
Right, let's be off, boys!
Remember, Augustine...
...we can't cross the grounds of these estates.
We have to go the long way round. This way.
- How many kilometers are left to walk? - Six.
It's a long way.
We've the whole holiday to rest. Let's go.
Give me that. You're carrying enough.
- I want to pee! - Again? Hurry up!
Under a small winter sun...
...pale and shorn like a monk...
...we walked the holiday path.
December, that nocturnal road- mender...
...had cleared the weeds from the path.
No cicadas, no grasshoppers.
Not a sound, not a movement.
I thought of Lili of Bellons.
This little country boy was my friend and had taught me about the hills.
Perhaps he was coming to meet me.
Marcel? Hey, mate!
Waiting for me?
No, I came to see Edmond Flutterby, but he's out.
- I'm waiting for him to come back. - Okay.
Good evening, all!
I was happy because I knew he'd lied.
Hello, Mr. Joseph.
He came to wait for me beneath this cold Christmas rain...
...whose glistening drops lingered on his long lashes.
He had waited for hours, my brother of the hills.
Ah, Teacher.
- You teachers are always on holiday. - Let's not exaggerate.
I never take a holiday.
Then again, I don't work either!
Give me your bundle.
We came from Marseilles. We couldn't see a thing.
Fire is combustion...
...and oxygen permits this combustion.
And what about carbon dioxide, Dad?
That evening, Christmas Eve...
...I experienced a new emotion.
l saw rise up in the flames...
...a golden- headed bird with blue plumage.
I understood nothing.
It means, "Next year...
"...if there aren't more of us, let's hope there aren't less."
That's very nice.
It makes for a happy house, so I'm glad it's in your home.
Don't you celebrate Christmas at your house?
No. Dad says it's a day like any other.
Doesn't he go to midnight mass?
No. Especially not this year. There's no rain.
And so he won't go until it rains. He says that...
...God has to be taught a lesson.
Merry Christmas!
Baby's sleeping.
I'd heard about the 13 desserts.
- It's the first time I've seen them all together. - Me, too.
I promise you, you won't just look at them.
Hold on there, you gluttons! Before we eat...
...you first have to tell me what they're called.
- This isn't the time to-- - One must never...
"Miss the chance to learn something."
First, the four beggars.
Figs, almonds, hazelnuts and raisins.
Then apples, pears, prunes and walnuts. That makes eight.
Tangerines, green watermelon, white nougat, dark nougat.
- You missed one. - To soak up the oil, the hearth- cake.
- Merry Christmas! - Uncle Jules!
What a pleasant surprise to see you here, but we weren't expecting you.
Have you left Rose and the baby?
My dear Joseph, ever since I was a boy I've never missed midnight mass.
I took my bicycle and came to hear it in the La Treille church...
...before celebrating the Savior's birth with you.
The mass was beautiful.
There was a great big créche.
The church was full of flowering rosemary...
...and the children sang wonderful carols from the 14th century.
- Too bad you didn't come. - I'd come out of curiosity.
But I think people who go to church...
...for the spectacle of the music, mock the faith of others.
Fine words.
Come and see! Quick!
Quick, Marcel, look!
Thank you, Uncle Jules.
Indeed, Joseph...
...you were at mass all the same tonight.
How come?
You were there with the entire family...
...because I prayed for you for a long time.
What favor did you ask of the Almighty?
The finest gift.
I begged Him to grace you with His presence...
...and give you faith.
As you know, I don't think...
...that the creator of the universe...
...bothers with microbes likes us.
But your prayer...
...my dear Jules...
...is fine and beautiful evidence of your friendship for us.
I thank you for it.
Merry Christmas, my dear Joseph.
- Dad, when can we come back? - For the next holiday.
- When is that? - Easter.
- How many days is that? - You're getting on my nerves.
lt'll be a good exercise for the exam for you.
Work out the days, minutes and seconds until Easter.
2,472 hours, 60 minutes in an hour, so...
My love of the hills triumphed over the barbarism of mathematics.
103 days, 148,320 minutes...
...and 8,899,200 seconds later...
...we had returned to the enchanted country- house.
Uncle Jules upheld the tradition.
- Happy Easter, my dear Joseph. - Happy Easter, my dear Jules.
And here, for the big eaters...
It's lovely.
Here again are the sweet days of doves and love!
- Where are you going, tadpole? - To the hills.
- And your geography homework? - I have to see to Lili's traps.
- He'll have to manage. - He can't. His legs are hairy.
Hairy legs, so what?
He's growing. His dad needs him to work.
I need you to work, too. Jump to it.
Mom wanted some thyme.
I remind you that your exam is in three months.
And my stew is in three hours.
Stew. In that case, of course...
I didn't know very much about the customs and habits of the weaker sex.
I only knew my mother and my aunt, who weren't women...
...but were a mother and an aunt.
Which way to Les Bellons?
- Lost your way? - Yes...
...but don't be so familiar.
I'm not some peasant girl.
I found this strange creature to be pretentious.
I decided she must be rich.
Which way is it?
The path to the right.
You know very well that it is blocked by enormous spider webs.
- Walk round them. - Not in the grass.
I saw a horrible, long, green animal in there.
I knew she saw a lizard, but, because she irritated me...
A snake, probably. This is Snake Valley. They eat rats.
It's full of rats and snakes.
Oh, my Lord!
If you were a gallant boy, you wouldn't leave me in such a dangerous spot.
I won't tell you off if you kill the spiders.
I don't care about that.
Let's go.
Wait!
Come on.
Les Bellons is just around the bend there.
I might get lost again.
You may come with me.
But the thyme, homework, and traps being preyed on by foxes...
Another day, maybe. Today, I can't.
Thank you, anyway.
- You're staying? - Yes. I'll wait till someone comes.
No one ever comes here.
Too bad. When Mother realizes I haven't returned...
...she'll alert the peasants and police...
...but they'll come too late.
Too late?
I'll be lying here dead...
...with my throat slit and blood everywhere!
You'll read that in the paper.
Guaranteed. My father works as a journalist for Le Petit Marseillais.
Come on, then.
My uncle reads that paper every day for the politics.
- Politics aren't good enough for my father. - Is he the director?
Better than that. He corrects everyone's articles.
And he also writes poems that are printed in Parisian magazines.
Rhyming poems, like Victor Hugo?
Exactly, sir.
- What's your father's name? - Loïs de Montmajour.
- What? - Loïs de Montmajour.
That name wasn't in my book.
I didn't tell her, for I was struck with respect at the thought that she was of noble blood.
That was why she hated familiarity.
- What does your father do? - He's a teacher.
Teacher of what?
Everything. At the Chartreux School.
A state school? A schoolteacher.
That's good, but not as good as a professor.
Does your father hunt?
- What's that? - Thyme.
Smell it.
- Horrible! - What?
Your hands are like beggar's hands.
It's only good, clean dirt.
I gave you permission to speak casually with me. I wonder why you don't.
I have to be polite with nobility.
I think I impress you.
- Me? Not at all! - It's not me that intimidates you.
It's my beauty.
My name is Isabelle.
I'm telling you and you'll never forget.
- What's yours? - My name is Marcel.
Not bad.
Not as nice as Isabelle. But you're not to blame.
Are you coming?
My baby, you're finally here.
Just think, Mother dear, I lost my way among the flowers.
I thought a wolf had devoured you.
Don't laugh, Mother.
Hissing snakes had surrounded me.
Fortunately, a young boy saved me and brought me home.
His hands are dirty, but he's brave.
It's true his hands are dirty. Very dirty.
It's because I went to pick some thyme for my mother.
I'll invite him to play with you...
...if he doesn't use any nasty words.
Me, use bad words? I know a few, but I never use them.
I knew it! That's not how it's done.
How then?
Don't raise my hand.
You have to bend your head down, as if you were greeting me.
Try again.
Not bad.
I'll teach you...
...this afternoon.
A good thing I didn't wait for the thyme.
On a stone I found a girl.
- Dead? - No, she was lost.
They're even more dangerous!
How old is she?
She's my height.
- Where does she live? - The big house in Les Bellons.
Her mother's beautiful.
How about that?
And the daughter?
She's pretty. Her calves are chubby.
- You noticed that, did you? - Do you like her?
- She's okay. She's polite to her mother. - Then it's not her mother.
Yes, she is! She calls her Mother.
- And her father? - He writes lovely poems.
And he's a nobleman.
His name's Loïs de Montmajour.
Loïs de Montmajour. That's obviously an alias.
Poets live in a world of dreams...
...and die of hunger.
Not all of them.
Lucienne's husband, who writes songs for the Alcazar.
He's given quite a bit of money.
But his songs are so rude!
Yes, but they rhyme.
You have strange ideas about poetry.
"It's the wa- ter- lily, of the water lily
"It's the Si- do- nie, of my Sidonie
"Sido in the water
"Nie to the lily
"And Lily on my knee"
Let them laugh. I wasn't listening, as I thought of Isabelle...
...who had let me kiss her hand and who was waiting for me.
- Do you like it? - Yes.
What's incredible is that you play with both hands, at the same time...
...with all your fingers.
Next year, I'll be at the conservatory.
- Do you like music? - I don't know.
Kneel down.
- Where? - At my feet.
- At your feet? - Go on.
Now put your ear to the piano.
I looked at her tiny hands which created such music.
This fairy held the key to my secret castles!
Princess.
That's my father.
Greetings, princess!
Father, this is the boy who--
The knight who hunts the adder...
...kills the spider, to make us gladder.
It was a grass snake.
Pages, sound the trumpets so oft reviled...
...for this lad who saved my child.
Loïs!
Child, for the poet you must without delay...
...prepare the emerald absinthe today!
My muse uses me up sometimes.
For four days I've been trying to change a poor rhyme.
It's a brown stain on my alabaster.
A thorn on my rose.
Stop!
And yet it isn't far. It's here...
...fluttering around my lyre.
The poet is composing. The visit is over.
See how this couple, oh, watch them attentively...
...brings light to the bushes with infinite delicacy.
Mate!
What about the traps?
- Something funny happened. - I know. Paul told me.
- What? - That you were with a girl.
An idiot scared of spiders.
Idiot? She can play the piano.
It's easy to turn a handle.
Even I can do it.
What handle? It's a real piano. She uses both hands.
In the meantime, the ants and foxes must have been feasting.
- Perhaps it's not too late? - Not too late? The ants don't waste time!
See you!
It was Easter Sunday.
I wanted to surprise Isabelle by meeting her after mass.
Her father's a boozer.
- Who do you mean? - You know very well.
- Who said he's a boozer? - My father.
He found him crawling on the road once.
The truth is that your father's a liar!
I don't like to be called a liar, especially by someone from Marseilles!
If he was crawling, he must have been really ill.
Everyone's ill from time to time.
He had thrown up his Pernod.
That's a funny illness.
- Speak of the devil. - Communion wine's strong.
"I swear obedience and loyalty to my queen."
And for her, I'm ready to die.
"And for her, I'm ready to..."
- To die. - "To die."
Good. You may stand.
- What's this game? - I'm the queen and you're my knight.
- And? - You have to do everything I say.
Everything?
Everything.
The queen wanted to test my courage.
She said if I stroke the beast...
I'll name you Captain of the Guard.
- Me? - Yes.
I moved towards the beast...
...counting on my hypnotic stare...
...and the sturdiness of his chain.
He was a lonely, pathetic animal, craving to be loved...
...ready to follow me to the end of the earth.
My knight, I'm pleased with you.
After testing my bravery...
...she lightly mocked my manly virtues.
That day, I was successively...
...the loyal black slave carrying his lady's train and fanning her.
Open your mouth. Close your eyes.
And I ended up as a fierce dog, foaming at the mouth.
Brutus! Here!
Sit up!
Give!
Go on!
Sit!
Close your eyes.
Open your mouth.
She made him run on all fours.
- Barking! - Funny game.
A stupid one. No girl ever made me run on all fours.
Me, neither. Never in my life.
We were playing knights and queen. It's poetry you can't understand.
Was the grasshopper poetry, too?
The grasshopper?
She said, "Close your eyes, open your mouth..."
...and put a grasshopper in.
A live one.
- And he ate it. - No.
You did!
I spat it out. I did.
It's true. I saw him.
Whether he ate it or not, it's a stupid joke.
It's clear that this girl takes you for an imbecile.
You're not to go back there. Understand?
- But, Dad-- - No buts.
If girls make you eat grasshoppers now...
...what'll it be in years to come?
We saw her at mass with her parents.
She's quite pretty...
...but she looks pretentious and sly.
It's nothing to get worked up about.
Of course not, but Marcel is so sensitive.
I know he'll suffer.
I won't have my son play the fool for some drunkard's daughter!
I was dismayed by my family's sudden hostility.
Their mistake...
...was to have misjudged the power of this unique feeling...
...which they had never felt, since there was only one Isabelle...
...and they didn't know her.
Isabelle...
Are you talking to me?
I don't talk to spies.
- I talk to my heart. - You're going nuts.
What is it?
Isabelle's downstairs. Go on in.
Since my early childhood, I have never tolerated the animal constraints...
...that mock the human condition.
Marcel. We're having a disaster here.
I caught a chill.
I was feverish all night...
...and now I'm ill.
You understand, ill.
That's all right, I've been ill before.
But the worst thing...
Can you smell that?
An appalling odor suddenly infected my nostrils.
That naughty cat. He does some terrible things!
Let me tell you the worst thing...
Alas, I knew the worst already.
My queen, on this day...
...when we swore our love, had an upset stomach.
And now she was blaming it on the cat.
"Isabelle Cassignol."
I was wondering who this Isabelle Cassignol was...
...when I saw an envelope addressed...
...to Mr. Adolphe Cassignol...
...proofreader at the Petit Marseillais, Quai du Canal, Marseilles.
I no longer understood anything.
Now the worst thing.
My father has argued with his supervisor, who's just a jealous fool.
We have to leave this afternoon. The house is for sale...
...and I'll never come back. Never.
That's a shame.
Is that all? I thought you'd cry.
So did I.
When the coach comes for us...
...I know I'll be sad...
...and you should know why.
Yes. Are those your school books?
I'll play you a farewell tune.
I hope that will make you cry.
Wait, I'll be right back.
Upstairs, Mrs. Cassignol was doing housework before leaving.
Damn this trunk!
When I travel, it does a bunk!
Loïs de Montmajour was Adolphe Cassignol...
...who had changed names like an escaped convict.
Damn it!
The mantelpiece was cracked...
...the clock was missing a hand...
...the precious carpet was a rag...
...and the queen was called Isabelle Cassignol...
...and she had an upset stomach.
- Do you want something? - No, I came to see you.
Edmond Flutterby saw a flock of migrants today.
- If only you had time. - Now I have time.
I just made my last visit to her.
- How did she take it? - She cried.
- I think she's leaving. - It serves her right.
She treated you like a dog.
- Do you think you're a dog? - No.
She needs a kick up the bum.
Right. Let's go and see the traps.
- Did you mention your school? - Yes.
If she loves you...
...she'll write to you.
She's gone.
Come on.
Don't be a fool.
Girls are boys who came out wrong.
That's a funny idea.
You said so, about Dad's cousin...
...the one who smokes cigarettes.
Yes? You mean boys--
That means girls are nature's mistakes.
The proof? They blush over nothing and cry all the time.
We don't. And we can whistle and spit, too!
That shows you're real boys.
You seem happier now.
Yes, but you can't tell.
Obviously, after all this trouble...
...you won't want to come back here on vacation.
Mother. I'll never leave my hills for a girl.
Joseph, let's come to the hills every Saturday.
Every week?
When the trolley comes this far--
The boys will have moustaches by then.
Look at them. They've never looked better.
My appetite's never been so good.
- I know, but... - In my opinion, Augustine's right.
City air is poison.
Maybe, but we can't afford a horse and cart.
It's a four- hour walk.
We'd get here at 8:00 p.m. on Saturday...
...and we'd have to leave Sunday afternoon.
Why not Monday morning?
Because I have to be at school at 8:00 sharp, you know that.
I have an idea.
Augustine's idea wasn't a bad one.
She often met the headmaster's wife at market.
She was a fine- looking woman with a gold necklace.
My mother, small and shy, would discretely greet her from afar.
But as she was ready to do anything for us...
...she made her greetings more obvious...
...drew nearer and eventually brushed the hand...
...of the headmaster's wife in a basket of potatoes.
That kind woman advised my mother...
...not to buy those tubers and took her to another stall.
Two days later, they were shopping together.
The headmaster's wife asked my mother...
...to come and try an English beverage called tea.
And to top it all off, Augustine profited from her talents as a seamstress.
Joseph was unaware of all this.
His surprise was complete when he read a note...
...from the headmaster concerning him.
The omnipotent head, stayed by fancy, had decreed...
...that my father would thereafter be...
"...in charge of supervising students on Thursday morning"?
And that the music and gym teachers, in exchange...
...would take over his pupils...
On Monday morning!
We can spend the weekend in the hills.
Yes. Do I thank the Headmaster?
No.
He upsets a state school's scheduling to suit one single teacher.
- We must do something. - l already thought of it.
I sent a big bouquet of flowers to his wife.
That might seem too familiar!
She was very pleased. She even said...
...I was a dear.
- You spoke? - Of course!
We do our shopping together.
She even calls me Augustine.
So, it was you who...
My children...
...your mother has a gift for intrigue.
So every Saturday we were able to go to the hills.
I am telling you, Augustine...
...in the society of the future, all castles will become hospitals...
...all the walls will be demolished and paths laid out.
Another revolution?
Not a revolution.
Revolution is an ill- chosen word, because it means a full circle.
And so, the upper classes fall to the bottom...
...but then they move back up and it starts all over again!
I loved Father's political and social lectures...
...and wondered why the President of the Republic...
...had never made him Minister, at least during the holidays.
In three weeks, he would have made all mankind happy.
Monsieur Joseph!
Bouzigue! What are you doing here?
Me? I'm working, Mr. Joseph.
I'm a canal spiker. Thanks to you, let me tell you.
You helped me get my diploma.
And now, I'm a spiker.
But what do you spike?
Finally, I get to teach you something.
Spiker means I keep an eye on the canal.
With a spike?
No! With this T- wrench...
...and this little black book.
The wrench opens and closes the sluices...
...to regulate the flow.
If I see a crack in the bank...
...or a bridge with a weak back...
...I note it in my book and make my report later.
That doesn't seem too tiring.
That's for sure. It's not hard labor.
Then again...
...why would I be sentenced to hard labor?
- I was always good. - Except at spelling.
It's better now. I do my reportings.
Reports?
Mr. Joseph, no quibbling.
The family's grown, I see.
Madame Joseph isn't much bigger...
...but still as charming.
Where are you off to with all that?
To our house in the country.
You've had a windfall?
Not exactly. But--
Let me carry something to help you.
That's kind of you, but we have a long way to go.
Surely not as far as Camoins?
- Further. - La Treille?
- Les Bellons. - Where did you leave the trolley?
- At La Barasse. - You poor things!
- That's at least eight kilometers by foot. - Nine.
- Do you come often? - Every week.
You poor things!
It's a long way, but once we're there, we don't regret it.
I'd regret it!
I've an idea. You won't walk so far today.
You can come with me, along the canal path.
It cuts across all the estates.
- ln 30 minutes, we'll be there. - But--
- Let's go. Follow me. - Bouzigue...
...are you sure it's legal?
What harm could we do?
I've met my old teacher...
...and I'm showing him where I work.
You could get into trouble.
If there's any trouble, I'll take care of it.
Because my sister is married...
...so to speak, to the General Councilor.
She had Bistagne named vice- president of the canal.
And if Bistagne caused me trouble...
...she'd stifle him with a pillow.
All right, let's go.
Here's my canal!
It doesn't look like much...
...but it lets you wash lettuce and your feet in the city.
It's very pretty.
I had this little bridge redone...
...with underwater cement.
There's a crack here.
- Where? - Here.
It's not underwater cement. There's too much sand in it.
- What? Are you sure? - Absolutely.
My father was a builder so I know a bit about it.
If you don't fill it, next month...
...it'll be four fingers wide.
I'll put that in my report.
The builder's in for a dressing down.
Thank you, Mr. Joseph.
- Don't mention it. - You've done us all a service.
My goodness.
Here are the estates.
The same key for all the doors.
Very useful.
A nobleman, a count, lives here.
He might not be pleased to see us here.
I don't like nobles very much.
People like him here.
Because they don't know him.
He must have some henchmen.
Henchmen, no.
But he has a guard.
A giant. I've seen him a few times...
...but he hardly ever says a word.
A lawyer owns this one.
He only ever comes in August.
A farmer tends to the orchard.
This one's the biggest and most beautiful.
The owner lives in Paris. Another noble.
A baroness, I think.
There's no one but the keeper here.
Is he a friend of yours?
No, he's an ex- sergeant and always drunk as a lord.
He has a stiff leg.
If even he sees you...
...and that's unlikely, just run off on the double.
He couldn't catch you, even with his dog.
He has a dog?
A great big thing.
But...
...he's 20 years old and can hardly move.
He's called Masher.
Masher?
There's nothing to worry about.
All clear. You can come out.
But keep your heads down.
And now, a surprise.
It's the crossroads!
Heavens, I don't believe it.
In 24 minutes we've covered distance that takes...
...2 hours 45 minutes.
I told you. This key is faster than a car.
Now, let's have a drink.
- I'm sorry, we-- - Don't make a fuss. It's on me.
- Do you have any Vichy water? - I may have some in the cellar.
Are you ill?
No, but I like mixing...
...white wine with this medicinal water.
It makes a pleasant drink, like champagne.
Today I'm not at all tired.
If only every week...
Madame Joseph...
...let me give you a present.
Take it.
But what for?
To save two hours each way.
Take it, I have another.
- We can't. - Why not?
Because I, too, am a civil servant.
The Inspector will be irate...
...if he hears one of his teachers...
...is trespassing with a forged key.
It's not forged. It's the State's.
There! We can't take it.
No one will say anything. You saw how it went.
I have principles!
Principles!
Come on, Mr. Joseph.
What principles?
I'd be ashamed to sneak onto other people's property...
...for my own private purposes...
...and personal interests.
It seems unworthy of a schoolmaster who gives children a moral education.
If he saw me sneaking though the bushes what would he think?
That it was quicker.
He's right!
Many people wouldn't hesitate.
Two hours on Saturday and two on Monday saves us four hours.
I'd rather walk four hours and keep my self- respect.
I know. I'll give you my canal cap.
A canal cap on a schoolteacher's head!
We could end up in court!
It's a real pity to make these boys walk...
...as if they were already in the Foreign Legion.
And with such a load!
Their legs are like spaghetti.
And your wife is not that sturdy.
And above all...
...it's a pity for the canal.
- What do you mean? - What?
Don't you realize, about the cement you noticed?
It's true, Joseph. You don't realize.
He doesn't realize.
The builder who used that sand...
...will have to refund 2,000 francs.
Maybe even 2,500. I'm going to make my report.
He's trapped. Thanks to whom?
In short, you think that...
...my covert and voluntary help...
...would pay for our passage, as it were?
Ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times.
And on Mondays, if you give me a note, a short report...
...I'll copy it over, adding a few spelling mistakes, of course...
...and send it in to my superiors.
Do you know how much that would help me?
Between you...
...and my sister, I'll soon be the area boss.
Of course.
Think before you refuse.
- I am thinking. - We'd save on the boys' shoes.
Shoes, that's for sure.
If it helps the community, even though it's irregular...
...and if it helps you...
Help me? It could change my entire career.
I'm not quite sure. I'll think it over.
I don't know if I'll use it.
We'll see.
We had a chance to use this key the following Monday...
...on our way back to the city.
Do you realize how late it is? Hurry up!
Joseph, you're forgetting the key.
Not today.
But, Dad...
I said "no."
We can't risk it today.
We haven't any supplies to carry.
Also, it's easier to go down than up.
The next Saturday, we were facing the first door.
My father was at peace with his conscience, for he was crossing the forbidden threshold...
...not to shorten a long walk, but to preserve the precious canal from ruin...
...and save Marseilles from drought.
But he feared the keepers.
That's why I played the scout.
Come on!
The last wall rose up like an impregnable fortress.
I felt Augustine's hand trembling in mine.
Behind it was the drunken keeper.
And his dog.
Bouzigue said he was enormous.
- Here, Dad. - The kitchen knife?
For the guard.
If he tries to strangle you, I'll stab him in the back.
You're brave, but a bit too small. Give it to me.
You're big, stab him in the eye.
We were trembling as we crossed.
Luckily we saw neither man nor beast.
Our lives were changed by the key.
Paul shot up like a Jack- in- the- box.
Augustine's cheeks became rosy.
And I stopped thinking about the exam...
...which was dangerously close.
As for Joseph...
"If I were a little snake
"How happy I'd be"
His happy mood of the week collapsed before dawn on Saturday...
...as he prepared his courage...
...to enter into the illegal realm.
Don't be afraid, go on.
- Good day, sir. - Good day.
I was expecting you.
Do I have the honor of addressing the owner?
You do, sir.
- Let me explain-- - There's no need.
For some time, in spite of your precautions to hide yourselves...
...I've been watching you cross my land.
The fact is, one of my friends, a canal spiker--
I know. I called him in this very morning.
- Boutique? - Bouzigue.
He was my student. I'm a public school teacher--
I know, Boutique told me everything.
The house in the hills, the short trolley ride...
...the long walk.
The children and the packages.
Indeed the little lady...
...seems to be carrying too much.
Will you allow me?
- Vladimir! - Da?
Take the children's parcels.
Give and you give.
Now climb up.
Can l, Dad?
Come on, don't be late.
I don't know how to thank you, sir. I'm touched.
Really very touched.
I can see. I'm charmed by your sincerity.
I'm not offering you much.
You don't do any damage to my land, I have no objections.
There's nothing marvelous about that.
- What is this charming little girl's name? - Germaine.
Hello, Germaine.
I keep forgetting about this scar.
It was the last blow of an uhlan's saber in Alsace 35 years ago.
She's too young to appreciate military valor.
Tell her that I was scratched by a cat.
At least it'll teach her to be cautious.
Next time, ring in at the front gate, and take the main drive.
That way is much shorter still.
From that memorable day...
...the grounds of the first property were a weekly treat.
Do you know what these roses are called?
They're the King's Roses.
I bred the strain myself.
Allow me to offer them to you.
Our republican family seemed ennobled by the King's Roses.
You there!
Where are you going?
Don't worry, I'm only pretending, because the owners are watching from up there.
I hope the old one dies soon, the doctor says he's ailing.
Show me that book! He wants your papers.
- My name is-- - Victor Esmenard!
Address, 82 Republic Street!
Now run off to make it look real.
Next time, I'll use my gun!
Next time pass on the other side, by the tomatoes.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
But there was still the estate with the dog.
Augustine, you're scared to death.
I'm sure he already noticed us and doesn't care.
I'm scared.
It may be silly, but I'm scared.
Why would he run after us with his stiff leg and his sick dog?
Please!
It's just nerves.
I'll get over it.
It's only nerves.
There.
It's over now. Let's go.
We set off and everything went well.
June was a month without hills.
Subjunctive.
Shut in by high walls.
The potato.
This prison corridor was blocked...
lsosceles.
...by a thick iron door.
I don't know.
The scholarships door.
- Even I don't understand. - It's worthy of a higher exam.
Please, did I pass?
The man who wrote this doesn't speak with children.
In my opinion, we can clearly discern the complex ruse...
...and subtle treachery of secondary school teachers.
Congratulations...
...for not understanding it.
- Did I pass? - Of course you did.
What did you expect?
However, there's passing and passing.
I was brilliant in all areas...
...but I had struggled with a problem concerning alloys.
It was worded with such treachery that I ended up coming in second.
I'd have preferred for you to come in first...
...but you've got a scholarship to the lycée.
That's what matters.
Well done.
The little teacher was proud.
He'd never set foot inside the lycée.
But he was suddenly suffering from a secret wound.
"A, B, C, D."
That's all my knowledge...
...and I will teach it for the rest of my life.
You may be ashamed of me one day.
- I'm scared of losing you, tadpole. - Why? I'm here.
You're here now. But...
...when the lycée teachers make a wise man out of you...
Then I'll come and teach you everything I know.
Outside, the holidays were just beginning.
You can go, it's perfectly safe.
The Esmenard family sends you its best wishes.
- Joseph, I have a premonition. - So have l.
The premonition that we'll have a wonderful holiday.
Hurry, he's not there.
How can you tell? Maybe he's hiding somewhere.
You're delirious.
But to put your mind to rest let's play Comanches.
We reached the last door, the magic door...
...that would open onto the holidays.
What about your premonition?
Open up quickly, please, hurry.
Don't get carried away. It's all over now.
There's a padlock.
I knew it.
Heavens, we're prisoners here.
Break the chain.
Silly boy, that's a crime.
A crime!
A crime that could...
...get you three months in prison.
Quiet, Masher.
What are you doing here?
Who gave you permission to enter the Baron's property?
Are you his guests or relatives?
- What is your name? - Victor Esmenard!
Shut up. This is no time for jokes.
Honestly.
He's well- trained with his false names.
A schoolteacher.
That takes the cake.
A schoolteacher sneaking out onto someone else's land.
A schoolteacher.
It might not even be true. If the kid gave me a false name...
...the father might give me a fake card.
By crossing this estate, sir...
...we were taking a shortcut.
That's how it starts. First you take a shortcut, then you take the silver.
Look how much we have to carry. How tired everyone is.
Stop it. He doesn't want to know.
- Go and play with your brother. - Stay here! I'll teach you.
Quiet, Masher!
- Did you make this key? - No.
This is an administrator's key. You stole it.
It's easy to imagine that I did not.
- Well? - I found it.
Of course. You found it on the road and realized it opened...
...the canal doors.
Who gave it to you?
- Who was it? - I can't say.
It was clearly that careless official...
...who steals my figs.
You're wrong. I know he's honest.
And he gave you a council key.
He did so for the good of the canal.
Masher! Quiet.
I have some knowledge of mortar and cement...
...which allows me to...
Here, take a look at this book for yourself.
- You're an expert? - In a way.
Are they experts, too?
Never seen them that young.
This will be useful evidence.
- You can't! - I can. Open these packs.
No!
They're our belongings.
Are you refusing? I'm warning you.
I'm a sworn officer.
It looks like a market robbery!
- Is it loaded? - No.
You're lucky.
It's clean.
You're lucky again.
With a gun like this...
...you can easily miss a partridge, but...
...you can kill a guard.
An unwary guard.
Pack all this stuff away...
...and go back the way you came.
I'll make my report.
I didn't know you teachers earned so much.
If you're dismissed, it's your fault, not mine.
Come on, Masher.
Dad!
Nice act, but it won't work.
Come on.
One is so weak when one is wrong.
It's not the end of the world.
We're on holiday...
...but if I lose my job next week...
...I'll be unemployed.
The naked lady is broken.
The key! He kept the key!
It was the first time that I saw a thief at work...
...and this criminal was my father.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
We can at least close it again.
We went the long way around...
...and finally reached the country house that was waiting for us in the twilight.
You're exaggerating.
They won't guillotine you for it.
Of course not.
You don't know the academy's inspector. He'll see his superior.
I could be dismissed.
There's nothing to make a fuss about.
Perhaps.
Perhaps, but...
...it's enough to caution a teacher.
For me...
...a caution is like a dismissal...
...for I'll resign. I will.
What? You'd give up your pension?
What would we live off?
I don't know, I'll think about it.
You could become a tutor...
...and give special lessons.
I'll have to go and see Raspagnetto.
The potato- seller?
We were together at school, you know.
One day he told me, "You were good at maths.
"My business has grown. I need someone like you."
I'll explain everything, he'll understand.
You can't always rely on friends.
I know, but...
...Raspagnetto owes me a lot.
I gave him the answers during exams.
I never told you, but...
...I have some railway bonds...
...780 francs worth.
They're hidden in the big atlas.
I don't believe it.
You kept it secret?
They were for emergencies. My intentions were good.
Don't apologize.
I did the same thing.
But I have only 210 francs.
That's all I was able to save from the money you give me every morning.
Dad, 780...
...Mom, 210...
...that makes 990.
l had seven francs.
Paul, despite his secretiveness, had four.
That made 1,001 francs.
I was reassured...
...and the sandman threw a handful of sand at me.
Come on in.
- There's a gentlemen here. - Show him in.
He's here.
Fancy that.
What a surprise!
I thought you were away.
Rose has taken Pierre to Roussillon.
Perhaps he'll get the accent.
I'm here to tell you some news--
I already know your news.
But, how?
I saw the list being passed, signed by the Director.
Congratulations.
You're mistaken.
Come on, don't be so modest.
The service medal at your age is exceptional.
Bravo.
One is so weak, when one is wrong.
It's terrible.
An honest farmer here killed a policeman...
...who was going to report him.
A report means dishonor and ruin.
That guard causes trouble for everyone.
He reported me to the council for having four thrushes under my bowler.
They made me pay four francs.
Well?
Hold on! Let me wet my whistle first.
I saw the guard. He was writing his report.
I told him not to, he said, "The hell I won't."
So I said, "Why?"
He said, "Teachers are always on holiday."
So I said your father was the one who killed the bartavelles.
He said, "I really don't give a damn."
- So, I said-- - So you said?
I said nothing.
He kept on writing, and I could see...
...he was enjoying it.
That guard...
...if ever he comes up into our hills, he won't have to wait long...
...for the bullets he deserves!
They won't sack you with a service medal.
They can.
You can always cancel the promotion...
...of a civil servant who is at fault.
You should become a farmer.
What an idea.
- He needs a new profession. - But a job like that, I couldn't.
No need to be an expert, things grow by themselves.
Chickpeas, for example.
They don't need water or dung...
...or even earth.
- Or the runner bean. - Runner?
It's in a hurry, see?
You make a tiny hole...
...and place the bean on the bottom, cover it with earth...
...and you run off quickly before it catches you!
Of course, that's a bit far- fetched, but it does grow fast.
I'm going for a nap.
- What about Bouzigue? - He was out.
- Aren't you going to eat? - No, nothing.
Monsieur Joseph!
Bouzigue!
Here. This is yours.
My notebook.
He gave it to you?
Not exactly.
When I got your note this morning...
...I fetched reinforcements.
Binucci, a canal spiker like me.
Pleased to meet you.
And Fenestrelle, a turncock.
Make a report.
"It is positively forbidden...
"...to hinder the use of canal doors."
Article 82 of the rules.
- A report on me? - Your name, place and date of birth.
- You're not serious? - Are you refusing?
Careful, the law is on my side.
A report? On me?
Wait!
That padlock wasn't for you.
It was to trap people crossing the estate...
...with a forged key.
A forged key? You hear that, Binucci?
- A forged key. - Is that all you found?
The proof. Here it is.
Evidence. Do you have more proof?
I took this from their leader...
...a teacher.
Evidence!
And my report to the administration.
Confiscated.
Then there's my own report...
Confiscated!
The padlock key?
- Here it is. - Thank you.
At your service, gentlemen.
- It's all in order, isn't it? - Oh, you poor soul!
You've confessed in an official report.
What?
You admit that you put a lock and chain on one of the administration doors.
What are you going to do?
Quiet!
He's in a bit of a state.
- Perhaps we could-- - The rules are the rules.
Unless we...
We'd have to destroy the evidence.
But I can't take that responsibility.
I can.
To keep your cap...
...jump to it! Tear it all up!
Do it!
There, I've done it.
Tear it into confetti. Smaller.
- Like this? - Smaller.
Wait!
That way, the guard will be well kept.
Masher!
Catch!
Give, Masher.
Quiet.
Good boy, give it to me.
It's all over now.
But you'd better not go that way again.
Even if we were to be given permission...
...I'd never have the courage to go that way again.
- l think I'd faint. - Dad.
Don't worry, we'll come by carriage.
- Like Uncle Jules? - Like Uncle Jules.
Did you win the lottery?
Joseph has won the service medal.
He's been promoted with an extra 22 francs a month.
Go and get Uncle Jules' bottles.
But, Monsieur Joseph...
...wine is still the least harmful drink.
Here, you drink cistern water.
Do you know what's in it?
Water from the sky.
Water distilled by the sun.
I bet there's also a dozen black spiders in there, too.
Two or three lizards...
...and a whole family of toads.
Cistern water...
...is just concentrated toad- piss.
But that alcohol, for your health...
You kill me!
Time passes...
...and makes life's wheel turn like that of a windmill.
Five years later...
...I walked behind a black carriage that was so high...
...that I could see the horses' shoes.
I wore black, and Paul's hand gripped mine with all its might.
Our mother was being borne away.
For years after, until manhood...
...we didn't dare speak of her.
Then, little Paul grew tall.
He had a silky beard.
He never wanted to leave the Etoile Hills...
...where he kept a herd of goats.
He was the last of Virgil's goatherds...
...but at 30, death carried him off.
My dear Lili had been waiting for years in the graveyard...
...under a blanket of flowers.
In 1917, in a dark northern forest...
...a bullet cut short his young life.
He fell on some chilly plants...
...whose names he didn't know.
Such is the life of a man.
Moments of joy, obliterated by unforgettable sadness.
There's no need to tell the children that.
There she is.
See her?
Have you seen?
Pomponette's back.
The hussy, the minx...
Ten years later, I founded a little film company.
The venture met with success.
I planned to build under the Provence sky...
...a cinema city.
My solicitor started looking for an estate to house this project.
He found something while I was in Paris...
...and called me to announce the news.
He was most enthusiastic and I knew it was honest.
l bought it without seeing it.
A week later, we set off to take possession of the promised land.
It wasn't a historical castle...
...but some Second Empire bourgeois residence.
I surveyed my great enterprise...
...when I saw a row of shrubs in the distance.
I gasped, and without knowing why, I dashed across the meadow...
...and back through the years.
Only when I saw it over the hedge, did I recognize it.
The castle of fear...
...of my mother's fear.
Yes, it was there.
It was the canal of my past.
I walked back along the holiday path...
...and beloved shadows of the past were at my side.
In the wall, near the canal...
...was the black door...
...the one that refused to open...
...and humiliated my father.
I was breathing more easily, it seemed...
...and the evil spell had been broken.
On the other side of time...
...for years now, a young, dark- haired woman had been clutching...
...the King's Roses to her fragile heart.
She heard the guard's shouts and the dog's wheezing.
Pallid, trembling. Forever inconsolable.
She didn't know it was her son's estate.
MY MOTHER'S CASTLE