The Somber Side of a Scientific Mind. Christian Tyoder
wheels toward the center of the road. Their feet kept sliding over the wet grass of the road shoulder. Finally, with Hans’s feet applied to the guardrail’s end post, they managed on their third pushing attempt to move the front of the Citroën in the right direction. The sun reappeared but with its lower half hidden behind the darkening horizon. Both men got back into the car. Abd, at the wheel, let the vehicle smoothly run downhill in the “N” gear. Before it reached the bottom of the pass, a sharp snapping sound was heard toward the back and under the trunk of the car. Within a couple of seconds, the rear of the car dropped lower on the passenger’s side. This was immediately followed by a grinding, chattering, teeth-grinding rasp that appeared to be generated by the scraping of a metal object over a rough and hard surface. Abd applied the brake and then pulled the car over to a complete stop.
Hurriedly, the men, without putting on their winter coats, jumped out of the vehicle. Almost simultaneously they ran toward the rear of it. Horrified, they saw the right rear wheel leaning against the inside of the splashboard and the right end of the rear axle, broken off from the wheel, resting in a slanting position. Abd reached into the glove compartment and took out a black marking pen, opened the car trunk, tore a cover off from one of the two used cardboard boxes, then placed it on top of the car hood. A few small snowflakes landed then melted on the dorsum of his left trembling hand while he was writing “Voiture en panne” (disabled car).
After inserting the sign between the blades and the glass windshield, Abd looked at Hans. “I am sorry for putting you through all these inconveniences.” By this time the sun had completely disappeared, projecting upwardly its last golden haze of the day over the shadows of faraway bluish flat-topped hills. Farther to the east and from a distance, houses appeared as dark dots on a blanket of white snow left behind by yesterday’s snowstorm. Abd heaved another deep sigh. “The rear axle, I believe.”
“I think you are right. The axle is broken,” Hans replied.
“It is getting late and colder. What do you think we should do next?”
“I am afraid we have to try, first of all, to find a place to overnight in the middle of nowhere until tomorrow. The next hurdle to overcome will be the task of finding a mechanic who can replace the axle.”
The travelers grabbed from the car trunk enough loads to carry on their shoulders, and they started cautiously walking along the icy road in the direction of these faraway houses that, one after another, straggled along their passage. They were getting nearer. After a long, exhausting good hour, the two companions were in front of an old square brick dwelling, standing alone a few yards from the main road. The men searched for the walkway to the house with their eyes, as the ground around it was covered with at least a foot of undisturbed fresh snow. Hans trudged through the deep snow, approached the entrance platform, wiped off the wet glass door panel with the right sleeve of his coat, and looked in. Suddenly the light that indicated earlier the house was inhabited turned off, plunging the inside of it in darkness. Timidly Hans knocked at the glass doorframe then silently listened. The light turned on again. The inner paneled wooden door was opened just enough for a man’s head to stick out halfway. Then slowly a wraith-thin body, with its back facing the dim light of a wrought iron rustic chandelier, showed up, face-to-face with a stranger. His wilted and mussed gray hair over a tired-looking visage indicated that the man was about to quit for the day. Toward the back of the room, the wall clock chirped nine o’clock.
With a quivering voice, Hans glanced at the forwarding head. “Our car broke down. It had to be left at the roadside a couple of kilometers up the road. Would you please inform us whether one will be able to find an inn, a B&B, or even a private home in town where we can stay for the night.”
The man pushed the door wide open, making a quick sign with his hand. “Please step in. It’s too cold to stand outside.” Hans and his companion shook off the snowflakes from their winter coats and then entered the house. The tenant of the dwelling closed the door behind the unexpected but reassuring visitors while adding, “There is no commercial lodging around here, but there is an old lady living alone in a three-bedroom house just a couple of hundred meters behind our house. Occasionally, she rents out a spare room to tourists when her son is not in town visiting her.” The man glanced at his wristwatch then stared at Abd. “Let me make a quick call to find out whether the room is available for rent. In the meantime, please warm yourselves up at the fireplace and help yourselves with a cup of hot cider if you wish.” The man trudged forward, picked up the wall-mounted phone handset, and then dialed. A rattling voice answered. He listened and then said a few words that were almost inaudible. Less than a minute later, he returned to the fireplace where the two visitors were soaking themselves in the warmth of the dying embers. He smiled. “Yes, the lady is willing to rent the vacant room to you. She will leave the porch door light on for you to see her house from a distance.”
The man proceeded to show the travelers how to get to the pedestrian bridge bringing them to the other side of the river where the lady’s house was located. Pleased with the unexpected arrangement, the two companions put their coats back on, thanked the host, and then cautiously stepped down from the doorsteps into the darkness of the night. The two men were gradually adjusting their sight to the pitch dark outside. Unlike the ships that keep a certain distance from the lighthouse, Abd and Hans walked directly toward the only dim spot of light that appeared off and on behind a clump of densely grown trees. It was getting brighter as the men were getting closer to the house’s silhouette. The chimney smoke swirls illuminated by the porch light could now be seen.
Abd loudly sighed. “It must be the house!”
Exhausted after trudging through the deep snow on the path, he was at some distance behind his companion. Short of breath, he suddenly stopped walking and let Hans approach the house first. As the latter reached the doorsteps, a five-foot-tall lady with a slouched posture was standing at the door. With the same rattling voice the men had heard earlier, she friendly greeted them as Abd was now a few feet behind Hans. “If you are the folks who are looking for a place to stay overnight, this is it.”
Hans politely replied, “Yes, ma’am, we are the stranded travelers.”
“Come in please, but be careful with the slippery doorsteps. My name is Louise Bojeau, but they call me ‘Madame Jo’ in the area.”
The men took off their heavy outer coats, wiped their shoes, and then entered the living room. The hand of the circular thermometer hung next to the outside window frame was at two degrees Fahrenheit (−16.7 Celsius). The old lady continued, “Please pull that couch closer to the fireplace and warm yourselves up quickly while I am going to heat some cider for you.”
Hans looked at her hospitable face. “Yes, lovely. Thank you.”
A few minutes later Madame Jo returned, carrying a tray with two large cups and a thermos. After pouring the steaming liquid into the cups, she showed a glass jar of cinnamon powder to the guests. “Yes, or no?”
Both men said yes. They also looked at each other, very content and satisfied with the outcome that followed the unlucky event of the day.
Still standing near the left side of the fireplace’s brick mantel, Madame Jo glanced at the wall clock. “It’s getting late. You must be very tired. Let me show you your room upstairs with a private bath.”
Abd replied with a weak voice, “Indeed, I am very tired. We left Chateau de Vincennes almost fourteen hours ago.” He surely looked pale and exhausted, ready to lie down for a rest. The men followed Madame Jo, climbing up a steep squeaking wooden staircase. Once on the stair platform, the lady opened the door of the room with two double beds and turned on the ceiling light. “Here is your room with the window shades already pulled down. Two glasses and a water bottle on the night table in case you are thirsty. Please don’t hesitate to knock at my door if you need something during the night. Sleep as long as you wish. I presume you know how the chain-operated shower works. Breakfast will be ready for you when you are up for the day. Good night.”
Abd, very fatigued and weak, slumped into one of the beds. Hans came down to the living room to retrieve Abd’s belongings as well as his. Both slept like the bears in hibernation. Hans’s heavy breathing didn’t seem to disturb