Chapter 461 Narration
When it's time to be humble, you gotta be. But honestly, no matter how great a teacher is, they can't work miracles with students who just don't care.
"Don't say that. Brad's super dedicated to teaching the kids, and every single one of them in the village loves him," Cooper said, plopping down on a stool, lighting a cigarette, and taking a satisfied drag.
Cooper's wife, Genevieve Ashbourne, walked in carrying a basket. She set it on the table, and to my surprise, it was full of big, red apples, freshly washed and glistening with water droplets. They looked even fresher than the ones I get at the supermarket, with a rich fragrance that made them seem delicious at first glance.
"Have some. These apples are from our own orchard, and they're really sweet. Every household in the village grows fruit trees, and the northern hillside is full of apple trees. Everyone picks the best and biggest apples and stores them in the cellar, so we can eat them until April or May next year. Try one, they're very juicy. Go ahead, they're sweet and crisp." Genevieve kept urging me to eat.
I didn't hesitate and took a big bite of the apple Genevieve handed me. It was indeed sweet and crisp, with plenty of juice, and tasted exceptionally good.
"Wow, so sweet! These delicious apples must cost a dollar per kilogram. Do you have any extra? I'd love to buy some to take back," I exclaimed.
Cooper chuckled and said, "You don't have to pay anything. We've got plenty of apples, and we end up wasting a lot. We've got several barrels at home. Just take two barrels for Brad to try. If you bring a truck next year, I'll make sure you get a whole truckload of apples, on the house."
"How can such delicious apples go to waste? Don't you sell them?" I asked, puzzled.
Cooper responded, "We had originally planned to sell them when we planted the trees. The technician who taught us how to plant also promised to help with sales. But when the trees finally bore fruit, we couldn't find the technician. The road to the city is too rough and long, and no one comes to the village to buy them. In the fall, everyone picks the best apples from the back mountain and stores them for themselves. With so few people in the village, we can't eat that many, so most of the apples end up getting thrown away. It's such a shame."
No wonder Declan was so passionate about building roads; it all made sense now.
What a shame that such wonderful fruit was left to rot in the mountains.
Good roads were crucial for farmers! I used to think I was quite wealthy, but now I realized that my money was just a drop in the bucket when it came to building a road.
I decided to go back and talk with Brad to see if there was a better solution.
"Didn't a geological disaster happen last year? How did the apples still produce so much?" I asked.Cooper said, "Experts said it was caused by over-exploitation, leading to landslides during the rain. It was man-made, and although it has been managed, it's too late. The northern mountains, where the apple trees are planted, haven't been mined, so the soil is solid, and the apple yield gets better every year."
Cooper and his wife were truly warm-hearted, and I really enjoyed our conversation. Before I knew it, it was almost ten o'clock. Just as I was about to ask about last year's events, a chubby boy walked in holding a white basin.
"My mom made some fresh pancakes. They smell great. I'm bringing them for you to have for lunch. I'll put them in the pot," the boy said to Genevieve.
Cooper's house had a big main room when you walked in, with stoves on either side and a bedroom on each side. The bedrooms were large, with the inner half used for sleeping and the outer half furnished with tables, chairs, and a wooden-handled sofa set, serving as a living room.
A glass window on the wall between the living room and the kitchen provided a clear view of the kitchen.
The boy lifted the pot lid on the stove, placed the basin inside, covered it again, and looked up. Seeing me as a stranger, he shyly smiled at Genevieve and said, "I'll be going back now."
"Don't go, Yosef Hart. Come in and see who this is," Cooper called, waving for the boy to step inside.
I was still wondering who the boy was and why Cooper said that. After taking a closer look at me, the boy ran over with a smile and stood a step away from me. "You're Brad's girlfriend. I recognize you."
He accurately identified me, but how did he know?
I then turned to Cooper in surprise, only to see him smile mysteriously. He said, "This is my grandnephew, thirteen years old. He wants to repay Brad for saving his life." He turned to Yosef and said, "Yosef, why don't you just tell her yourself? You wanted to repay your life-saving debt, didn't you? Talking to Brad's girlfriend is just like talking to Brad."
Hearing this, I was even more confused.
Another life-saving debt? I was really fed up with this by then.
Yosef said, "Don't you remember me? That day in the hospital, I was lying on the bed getting an IV, and you were standing next to me."
I tried hard to recall that day and vaguely remembered a bed in the hallway with a small, chubby boy lying on it.
I replied, "I have a vague memory. Were you the one lying on the bed in the hallway?"
Hearing this, Yosef was delighted and jumped up and down excitedly. "Yes, I had injuries on my hand and head and was sleeping in the hallway."
To my surprise, Yosef eagerly told me something that took me aback. "Brad is my savior. Without him, I would have died a long time ago," he said.
I exclaimed, "Brad saved you? He never told me. Yosef, tell me what happened."
Yosef, sitting next to me, began to recount the events that took place at the school on the day of the mudslide disaster.
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