On the Sabbath, Bijou, the old mare, takes Lucien and his father to Tournus, Mâcon, Autun, Saint-Vincent-des-Prés, or Chalon-sur-Saône. The destinations change with the seasons. There are more deaths and fewer weddings in winter.
Lucien accompanies his father to the great organs of the region. He has become his white stick, directing him and settling him in front of the keyboards. It’s what Emma did, before. His mother who never returned from her car ride.
Lucien is present at Masses, weddings, baptisms, and funerals.
While Étienne plays or tunes, Lucien remains by his side and watches the congregation praying and singing.
Lucien isn’t a believer. He thinks that religion is just the beauty of the music. A ruse to subjugate people. He’s never dared tell his father that, and says grace every evening without flinching.
Étienne has never wanted to teach Braille or music to his son. He always feared it would bring him bad luck. He implored Lucien to do everything a blind person is deprived of doing, as if to exorcize the threat of blindness. As if to chase it away. To reassure his father, Lucien goes cycling, running, and swimming.
He attends the local school, where he learns to read and write like the other children. But unlike Étienne, Lucien has the feeling that, one day, this will no longer be of any use to him. So he learned Braille on his own, secretly, while listening to Étienne’s lessons with his pupils.
When nearly thirteen, Lucien accompanies his father to Paris. Étienne wants to stock up on new books from his cousin’s workshop. During this visit, Lucien is seen by a specialist, who takes a long look at the back of his eyes. The doctor is categorical: Lucien doesn’t carry the gene of his father’s affliction. He has inherited his mother’s eyes. Étienne is overjoyed. Lucien pretends to be overjoyed.
One day it will be his turn to walk with a white stick, and that’s why his mother had left. One day, the others won’t call him “the blind man’s son” anymore, but just “the blind man.” He, in turn, will become dependent on someone to do everything for him. That’s why he’d learned Braille without telling anyone.
Since his mother’s departure, Lucien can do everything with his eyes closed. Scouring the pans and the floor, bringing water up from the well, weeding, going to the vegetable garden, cutting logs, carrying bottles, going up and down the stairs. The house he and his father live in is forever plunged in darkness. Lucien intentionally draws the curtains without making a noise, so his father doesn’t hear him. That’s why all the plants die. Lack of light.
Back from Paris, with trunks full of new Braille books that he’ll sneak, one by one, from his father, Lucien won’t be changing his habits.