Folds 'SEE YOU MORNING' 108 Lübec's Holiday

Outside the window, a fine drizzle was falling, and spring was striding boldly into Zufluchtsland. Today was a day off. Emma sat on the edge of the bed nursing the baby, while Lübec lay lazily in her bed behind her, his face pressed against her hip, one arm around her waist, the other holding their son’s small hand, savoring his double happiness.
“I heard from Ruth that you went back to visit her when she was little. What was she like as a child?” Emma chatted with Lübec behind her.
“Thin, just like I remember from my own childhood.”
“Oh, she was so thin, that’s why you had to send her money, to buy her food, right?”
“I suppose so. With money, you can do many things.”
“Sigh, did anyone give you money when you were little?”
“No, that’s why I want to help them now. I don’t want them to live the same impoverished life that Ruth and I had as children.”
“Then? The money you’re giving isn’t for this Ruth, is it?”
“Mm, not for her.”
“Then the ones you saw back there — were they you and this Ruth?”
“I can only say they were me and Ruth from that time.”
“Alright, so this is also you helping Ruth and yourself.”
“Yes.”
The child, though not quite understanding the conversation, kept interacting with Emma and Lübec the whole time, making sounds and gestures, excited as if wanting to join the discussion.
“Look at our son, he must be as smart as you,” Emma said happily.
“Actually, boys tend to take after their mothers more, while daughters take after their fathers. It’s you who’s smart,” Lübec explained.
“Oh, so you wanted a daughter?” Emma asked with some concern.
“No, I wanted a son, because in the future you’ll need to rely on him. In this era, it’s mainly men who have to strive in society and support the family.”
“Oh.”
Amid Lübec and Emma’s casual chat, the open bedroom door carried the babbling voices of Clara and Ruth from the kitchen.
Along with the words flying into Emma’s bedroom from the doorway, Ada walked in dazedly, her small body wandering aimlessly around the room, her eyes flickering as she peered in from the doorway.
When Lübec saw her, his heart ached — this child had just lost her father, and her mother had to leave them to make a living. He quickly called out to her.
“Ada, come here, it’s cold outside,” he said, lifting the blanket.
Ada said nothing, still with that blank expression, and trudged over in a few steps to climb onto the bed.
Lübec warmed her freezing little feet with his hands while urging her to lean against Emma’s thigh, and on the other side he pinched Emma’s bottom.
Emma turned her head, Lübec gave her a look, Emma smiled and understood instantly, then turned back to Ada and gently stroked her head.
After breakfast, Lübec glanced out the window — still a fine drizzle, no sign of any major weather change. By now he had already decided what to do.
When the orderly’s carriage arrived, Lübec bid farewell to his family, took Clara and Ada onto the carriage, and wrapped them carefully in his own raincoat before they set off together.
The carriage rolled through the spring rain. Along the roadside, the damp earth had already turned a fresh green, a dark purple. Tender leaves and new buds of every plant were sprouting up, breaking through the soil, mingling with the rain threads in the air, bringing the refreshing scent of spring.
To surprise the two little sisters, Lübec hadn’t told them where they were going. When the carriage passed through the market district, people going about their business greeted Lübec, and the children in the carriage naturally became the subject of their conversation.
Without much delay, Lübec bought a bag of eggs at the market and continued on the road. In the fields beside the road, people were working — it was the time for spring wheat sowing. The fine rain moistened the soil, the distant mountains, and the entire stretch of land in view.
The winding country road, though not as flat and wide as the main roads in town, wasn’t in a hurry either. Every stretch of road, every bend, seemed to reveal a different scene. Such a journey never seemed to grow dull.
The carriage arrived at Doris’s new home. No one was there. At the neighbor’s house ahead, it seemed livelier — women were working together, preparing food for those in the fields.
Walking to the edge of the courtyard, Lübec spotted Doris there too. He turned back and asked Clara and Ada,
“Look, who’s that over there?”
Clara seemed to recognize her mother. She looked up at Lübec without speaking, as if asking his permission.
“Go on, take your sister with you.”
Clara’s small body nimbly pulled her sister along, got down from the carriage herself, then caught her sister as she climbed down. The two walked into the courtyard.
By now the women in the yard had also noticed the visitors and were all looking over. Lübec waved to them.
Doris also turned toward them. The fine rain had dampened her hair, sticking to her face. She saw her children, then looked at Lübec in the distance, and understood his intention.
Watching from afar as Doris embraced her children, sharing all the longing and worry since they’d been apart, Lübec felt a quiet sadness in his heart. When would her happiness come?
Doris was a small woman of considerable beauty, but fate had been unkind to her. Perhaps it was precisely her beauty that had driven her ex-husband to take desperate risks. Was this her destiny? Lübec silently reflected on fate’s takings and givings.
It was nearly noon. The sky seemed to brighten a little, and the drizzle that had started in the morning had stopped. The women had prepared food to take to the fields, and since Lübec’s carriage was there, jars and pots were loaded onto it. The group followed the carriage on foot toward the fields.
Working in the fields were not only men but also strong women, while those who stayed home preparing food were the less sturdy ones. Lübec studied Clara’s figure alongside her mother’s and thought this little girl would probably grow up to have her mother’s build — petite too. But this child was well-behaved and sensible. At her young age, she was already able to follow those women around, helping distribute food to the workers.
At lunchtime, everyone gathered around the carriage, eating and chatting. They couldn’t help but talk about Doris and her children. Some praised her kids for being clever and helpful, while others comforted her, saying with Lübec looking after them, there was nothing to worry about.
It seemed Lübec caught a glimpse of relief in Doris’s eyes. Perhaps she had come to accept her own decision from back then. It seemed that ordinary laborers didn’t have much control over their own fates.
On the way back, Ada, wrapped in the coat, had fallen asleep leaning against her sister. For her, the day’s outing had been too tiring. Along the way, Lübec was also thinking — perhaps he should push for scientific and technological progress in Zufluchtsland. Raising productivity could create more non-agricultural jobs, work that didn’t require physical strength, which could improve women’s employment and their social standing.
In a world where women could be as active in society as men, using their talents, they could live much happier lives — couldn’t they?