The Travels of Daniel Ascher

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WHEN HÉLÈNE THINKS BACK TO THAT FALL, her first fall in Paris, what she immediately remembers are her walks through the Luxembourg Gardens with her young neighbor. Jonas developed habits as inflexible as rituals. The moment they were through the gate, he would run and hide in the park keepers’ empty hut and close the low door, which afforded only a glimpse of the top of his head. He would wait there a few seconds, just long enough for a lion to prowl around the outside, or for Hélène to look for him and pretend to get worried, then he would leap out with a triumphant laugh.

She used to sit on a bench beside the sandbox and watch him dig; every now and then he would come over to give her a coin he had found and that he wanted her to look after for him. Strolling along the walkways, he picked up smooth, glossy horse chestnuts, filling his pockets and then Hélène’s. When there were no more chestnuts, he made bouquets of dead leaves for his mother, and they brought the smell of earth and rain from the gardens right into their home.

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