The Incantation Page #3

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But my name is Bellerose.

I actually always wondered

about that.

Bellerose,

a beautiful rose,

just like you.

What's to wonder?

Look, uh, let me make

my cruel joke up to you

and bring you

to some local wine tasting.

I could use a friend.

Wait, but what's the legal

drinking age around here?

You do realize

this is France,

yes, my silly little rose?

But of course!

Um, you, uh...

You know where to find me,

so au revoir.

Hello?

Don't be afraid.

Uh, excuse, please.

Is the man

of the house around?

Excuse me?

Abel Baddon of Dauphine.

Insurance salesman.

Would love to have a chat

with the man of the house.

I hope it's not life insurance,

'cause you just missed it.

Out on an errand, is he?

He's dead.

Oh... my.

Might I come inside

for a moment?

I'm quite weary.

I seem to have gotten myself

turned around at the crossroads.

Sure.

I'm Lucy.

Enchanted.

It's a beautiful home.

Thanks. Kind of just

figuring it out still, but...

Hi. Um, this is...

Uh, wait, I actually

never got your name.

Mary.

Mary. Mary, this is...

Abel. Abel Baddon.

It's a pleasure

to meet you both.

Sorry, I'm terrible with names.

I've made some food, Lucy.

I'm sure that Mr. Baddon

can join us,

but you know how the Vicar

feels about uninvited guests.

I'm so sorry to hear

of his passing.

Oh, not him, unfortunately.

My uncle.

Oh, of course.

My apologies.

Lucy, might I ask you

a question?

It's a sales pitch of sorts.

Sure, but I'm saving my money

for the Champs-Elyses.

Fair enough.

You see, I fancy myself

somewhat of a philosopher,

and in my line of work...

Well...

what do you think

of your uncle's passing?

Not sure I follow.

Do you believe in an afterlife?

In good deeds, a soul,

that sort of thing?

I guess I never

really thought about it.

But to answer your question,

who has time for an afterlife

when we're so busy

living this one?

Precisely.

Precisely. Everything else

is just distractions.

The only thing that really

matters is the here and now.

Right?

Sure, I guess.

I mean, really,

think about it.

If once you die,

you're gone,

then the only thing

of real consequence

is what you do right now.

There is no right

or wrong.

Only one life

to do as you please.

So we should want to live

as long as possible

on our own terms.

Please, no need to fill

her head with such rubbish.

I beg your pardon.

Look, Lucy,

have you ever done

anything really bad?

I mean, evil?

Something only you know about,

but occasionally

rears its ugly head?

I know I certainly have.

Is it safe to say

that you have some secrets?

Or regrets?

Now let's just say

that none of that matters.

How liberating would that be?

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