The New life. Part three.

"I told you to sit quiet! Or did you miss the pain?"

But Adelard didn't care that Monsieur Pierre was already beating the young man. All he thought about was the man in front of him. "I will do anything to get you released."

"You have ruined our lives. You knew full well that we were having hard times and your factory was our only hope. You owe us. So you just have to do whatever it takes to make sure my sons live happily ever after," Farmer Louis said defiantly and then walked off to the far corner of the cell.

"You mean you want him to be released? He set fire to your factory, didn't he? You could have died, couldn't you? And you still want justice to pass you by?" Monsieur Pierre asked when Adelard told him his intentions.

"He is no longer young. I hate to know that he will spend the rest of his life in prison. And so do his sons, because they haven't even seen life. So yes, it's my decision. It's up to me to decide."

"Excuse me for asking, but are you crazy?" Pierre suddenly asked, moving his chair closer to Adelard.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Yes. Why then are you so kind? What is the secret and purpose of your kindness? Or is that how you play with everyone?"

Adelard could not understand these simple questions. But he was amused and scared. For he had never yet wondered whether he was kind or not. He suddenly felt like a little child. And the feeling was unpleasant. After all, if he is still a child at heart, it means he knows nothing, that his intellect is still primitive.

"I'm sorry. That's a silly question. You are a great man, after all. But you're just very kind and sometimes, it's scary. You see, I'm not used to people like you. That's why you're a unique case to me. And when a person sees someone unique and kind in front of him, he starts to think that he is just crazy. That's the easiest explanation, after all."

"I understand you. But I just do what I want to do. I just don't want people to suffer. There's too much pain and suffering in this world, and I want to make some kind of contribution to that world. I want to relieve as many people as possible from suffering. After all, who else is going to take care of them?"

Monsieur Pierre leaned against the back of his chair and held out a blank piece of paper to Adelard. "If this is your will, you must write a statement that you do not wish to continue this case and refuse to sue them."

Adelard silently began to write the statement and it turned out that he had written an entire essay on the kindness and suffering that exists in this world. And when the chief gendarme of the town read the words, he restrained his laugh and simply nodded his head.

"When will they be released?" Adelard asked, clutching his jacket. And whenever he was nervous, he just couldn't hide his emotions. And perhaps that was his charm.

"They will be released soon. But we'll keep an eye on them. I think they might do something terrible again. I won't let that happen."

"Thank you for your concern."

As Adelard walked out of his office, all the gendarmes stared at him. Admiring his straight posture, his slender body, his tall stature, his proud head held aloft, they all suddenly forgot that they had wives waiting for them at home or that they liked women at all. They forgot about it and all they felt was tension all over their bodies.

"What are you looking at? Aren't you ashamed of yourselves? He's a good gentleman. And you have such thoughts! You should be ashamed! How do you even look your wives and children in the eye?" Monsieur Pierre asked as Adelard left the building. And one of the gendarmes, a very young man with brown straight hair, looking at Adelard's back, said, "I would have made him so happy. I guess he doesn't even know what men are capable of."

The sound of unpleasant laughter followed.

"If you don't get back to work, I'll fire you all!"

"Adelard is so handsome. And it doesn't even matter that he's a man. When it comes to such beauty, gender doesn't matter," someone said and loud laughter followed again.

Adelard's head began to spin again. He felt hot and cramped in that jacket, which seemed to constrain his every movement. In the hot sun, he looked around for a tree to sit under. But all around was asphalt and quite far away from him, his carriage. "I should go to the doctor," he said to himself the moment he felt nauseous again. His thoughts were of many things. He thought about the fire, about those unfortunate people who set his factory on fire, about Celeste and the fact that soon, she would be his wife. Everything was happening too fast that he just couldn't figure out where he was. After all, even a man like Adelard needed a good rest.

"Monsieur, where shall we go now? Home? You don't look well. Perhaps to the hospital?" the coachman asked, covering his head with a newspaper from the sunlight. Adelard shook his head, took a deep breath and replied, "No. I don't want to go home. I need to go somewhere. It's so hot right now, I think you should head home yourself. You get a lot of headaches from this heat. Go home and rest. Today, I won't need a carriage."

"I feel fine. I won't go home without you. Do you want to walk in this sunshine? What if you get sunstroke?"

"No. I just want to think and be alone. Don't worry. I love this kind of weather. You know I do."

Feeling all the fatigue of horses that were ready to throw themselves into the sea, Adelard nodded his head and, trying to smile, added, "Leave me alone."

"Very well, Monsieur," the coachman replied, disappearing from the scene in a flash. But the truth was that Adelard did not want his coachman to tell Nicholas about going to the doctor. Thinking of the health of Nicholas's heart he chose to go under the sun than to make him nervous and put his condition in danger.

It was a long walk from the gendarmerie to the hospital. It took him a whole hour to walk the whole way. But nevertheless, with each step, he felt better. After all, illness tends to disappear at the very moment one approaches the hospital. From the gray building where life ceased to exist to the white building where life continued and struggled, Adelard kept thinking about his life.

Too many thoughts clouded his mind. He didn't notice as he approached the front desk and made the young girl in the snow-white medical uniform glow with happiness.

"Monsieur Adelard, I knew you were coming today," she said, showing her most beautiful yet deceitful smile. Adelard smiled. But he didn't think about why all the women around him were turning red and the men were nervously covering their trousers with everything they could get their hands on.

"Did you know?" he asked naively, and no one could tell if he was really such a gentle and perfect, sincere man. The girl with red lipstick and small eyes, but a healthy complexion nonetheless, replied, "I saw you in a dream. And you came to me. I mean here. To the hospital. What on earth brings you here?"

"I want to see Dr. Fabian, if he is not busy. And if possible, as soon as possible."

"Are you ill?" she asked, looking him over from head to toe.

"Yes. Lately, I haven't been feeling well."

"Poor boy. What is the matter with you? Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, lightly touching his arm. Without understanding the hint, he felt the pain in his head again.

"Can you tell me if Dr. Fabian can examine me right now?"

But the girl with red lipstick continued, "I can take away any pain. Monsieur, you know that women are better doctors, don't you?"

"Please tell me, is Dr. Fabian in his office?" Adelard asked, feeling a terrible urge to vomit. He was ready to let out everything he had eaten for breakfast. And maybe the girl with the red lips noticed it.

She answered right away, "No. He's not here. He's gone somewhere and won't be back until tomorrow."

"Thank you, you're very kind," Adelard managed to say. Luckily for him, the urge to vomit didn't ruin his day.

Leaning his arm against a tree, he waited until he felt better. The sun was finally hiding behind the clouds. The wind brought with it the scent of future rain. "Women are better than doctors," he muttered, waves of laugh moved too sharply and he began to laugh loudly, awkwardly, strangely. These words spoken by a strange girl with red lips led him toward the houses and then toward the forgotten street where three children were playing. Under their dirty clothes, which for some reason were drying in the sun, three small children were playing football.