Turnabout De La Luna

It was a Saturday afternoon and Gregory Edgeworth was busy cleaning up his office. Miles, on the other hand, had been reading since early morning in his own room, laying on his bed. He had just finished his book and got up. It was such a fascinating story about a detective, he wanted to tell his father about it. Also, he was in the mood for his favorite tea, earl grey. Perhaps father would also like some? Miles wondered.

On his socks, he travelled to his father's study which was located a little further in the hallway. A melody entered his ears and became louder as he came closer to Gregory's room. It was a tune he had never heard before.

'Father, do you also want some tea?' Miles knocked on the half-open door and came in. His father stood with his back to Miles at the old stereo installation. He had a cassette case in his hand. Miles waited, but did not get an answer.

'Father?' Miles asked again.

Startled, Gregory turned around, finding his little boy standing in the doorway.

'W-what is it, my boy?' he stuttered. Miles watched how his father tried to hide his face and turned around again.

'I-I wanted to ask you if you also wanted some tea, father.' Miles got nervous, he knew there was something wrong with his father. He stared at his father's back.

He wanted to walk away, make the tea and wait for father in the kitchen. However, he also wanted to know what was wrong. He had never seen his father like this. Slowly, Miles moved towards his father.

'Father? Is something wrong?' Miles asked him. Gregory swallowed and sighed, then turned back to face Miles. Miles' eyes widened when he saw the wet eyes of his father.

'There is nothing wrong, my boy. I am just moved by this song.' He looked at his son, who was still in a bit of a shock. 'Isn't this song beautiful, Miles?' he asked him and sat down on his comfortable leather desk chair.

Miles nodded. It was an emotional song with a calm melody.

After a short silence, Gregory spoke. 'The song is called Hijo De La Luna.' He watched his son, coming closer and let him sit on his lap.

'Is that Spanish?' little eight-year- old-Miles asked his father, feeling more comfortable as he saw that his father's eyes weren't wet anymore. Gregory smiled.

'Yes, it is. It means 'son of the moon'. '

'I have never heard you listening to this song, father,' Miles commented, still safe in his father's lap. His father swallowed again and put his arms around Miles.

'It has been quite a while when I last heard it,' he spoke. 'This song has a personal story attached to it, Miles.'

'It does?' the little boy asked his father with surprise.

'I heard this song for the first time around three years before you were born, in 1989.'

'Oh,' was the only thing Miles could say. Gregory watched his son who was clearly curious to know the rest of the story. He took a breath.

'It was in Spain, we were on holiday there. Your mother and me.'

'Oh,' Miles repeated, and instantly felt the feeling of guilt. He avoided Gregory's gaze. His father spoke of his mother as little as possible, he knew father was still hurt. Mother had died at childbirth, leaving a heartbroken husband and newborn baby behind. He knew that much, but not more.

Gregory immediately sensed Miles' change of emotion and stroked his back, which made the boy look him in the eyes again.

'It is quite a beautiful story, Miles,' he smiled. He was ready to tell his boy of one of the most beautiful moments in his life.

'Do you want to hear it, son?'

'Y-yes, please,' Miles spoke. His father adjusted his glasses with his free hand and thought of how to start.

'Your mother and I knew each other for a little more than a year. She told me that ever since she had taken Spanish classes in high school, she had always wanted to visit Spain,' he began.

'Mother did?'

'Yes, and she was very good at speaking. I was terrible, I must admit. I can only speak a few sentences,' father spoke and let out a small laugh. 'I booked the tickets in the holidays when I knew she was free. I took days off as well,' he continued. 'I told her about the surprise a week before we would leave. She was happily surprised and could not wait to get on the plane.' Miles listened attentively, hearing about his mother. His father smiled while reminiscing, still holding his son close.

'One evening, we sat in a small restaurant and music was played in the background. It was quiet and we were almost the only guests. Then, while we were enjoying the Spanish cuisine, this song came on and your mother was so impressed… '

'Mother liked this song?'

'She loved it. Your mother asked the waiter if he knew the song or artist. Unfortunately, he did not know.'

'And then?' Miles asked, absorbed in his father's story.

'We left the restaurant without knowing the title nor the artist. Your mother understood and figured out by listening that it had to do with luna, the moon, but the exact title was not that clear.'

'But you found out eventually, right father?' Gregory glanced at his son with an amused face.

'I tried everything to keep your mother happy. Yes, we spend half the holiday visiting music stores in the city. Your mother remembered the melody well and we asked around, looking for a song with the word 'luna'.'

'Eventually, I listened to a certain cassette tape in the shop while your mother was still browsing all those other tapes. When it was put on, I was certain it was the song your mother loved, so I bought it without her even asking for confirmation.'

'And then, father?' little Miles asked his father, he wanted to know what happened next.

'We had dinner in the hotel that evening and when we had the desert, I gave it to your mother.'

'Was mother glad?!'

'She was surprised and incredibly happy. Right after we finished, we went to our hotel room. She immediately grabbed her Walkman from her suitcase.'

'Was it the same, father?!'

'I was really nervous, of course. Was it the same song? However, when she put the headphones on and listened to the song for a while, a big smile appeared on her face.'

'It was the same!' Miles exclaimed and smiled.

'I was,' Gregory laughed. ' I was so glad it was indeed that song. Your mother was tremendously happy and listed to it the whole evening, finally even singing with it.' Gregory hold back his tears, when he remembered that lovely face of his wife. 'Even when we got back from that holiday, I often found her singing or humming it while preparing dinner.'

'You like this song too, father?'

'Yes, Miles. I love it, just like your mother.'

That moment, the tape stopped. The song had finished. Father and son sat in silence for a few seconds. Then, little Miles spoke up.

'Would you like some tea now, father?' Gregory sniffed his nose and replied to his son shortly afterwards.

'Yes, please, my son. I will be in the kitchen in a minute.' Miles nodded and carefully got out his father's embrace and walked to the door.

Gregory saw how his son vanished from his sight and sighed. He watched the doorway, where his boy had left. Gregory could not hold back his tears, he allowed them to slowly ran down his cheek.

Miles sat on his chair at his music lesson. He always had a lesson on Thursday afternoon, right after school. He played the transverse flute a little over two years now, and he really enjoyed it. His father had said that he could play any instrument he wanted and after seeing a classical concert with him, he decided that it was the flute that he found most beautiful.

Miles had always had individual lessons, as he preferred playing alone or just together with the teacher. It was the same with performing, it was something Miles did not like. He only played the flute at the lesson or at home, where Miles played for his father. He did not want to admit it, but he was simply not comfortable with others hearing him play the flute. Gregory had often complimented his son on his playing and had even helped him with reading keys.

Now the teacher had told him that the music school had organized an obligatory musical performance and Miles was not amused. All children of the school were put into groups of their own instrument and all would perform, in duos or alone. Or course, Miles had chosen the latter. However, since his father would be coming he knew that he had to his utmost best, even though he did not particularly like it.

'You can choose your own piece at the performance, Miles,' the teacher said and got his flute from its case. 'Is there a song you like? We can try practicing that.' Miles thought.

'Well, there is a song I would like to perform for my father,' he spoke eventually.

'For your father? I am sure he would love that,' the man spoke and smiled at Miles.

'Is it your father's favorite song? What is the title, perhaps I know it.'

'Um.. it's called Hijo De La Luna. It is a Spanish song.'

'Hm… I think I heard the title before. It does ring a bell.'

'I will look if I can find some music sheet for it, okay Miles?' Miles nodded.

'Please, Mr. Lewis.'

Miles was overjoyed when he saw that his flute teacher, Mr. Lewis, had found the music sheet. It was not that difficult, he had said to Miles.

Each week, the little boy practiced hard at the lesson, as he did not want to practice the piece at home. It was a surprise for his father, so he simply could only practice on the Thursday afternoons.

It was on an evening a month later that the performance took place. Some children were around Miles' age, however, most were a little older. Gregory had found a seat on the fourth row, and watched his son sitting nervously on the first with all the other little performers. He was proud, Miles had never done something like this. He knew his boy would be fine, but nonetheless he was even nervous himself.

He had been trying to ask which piece his son would play tonight, however, he never got a real answer. Therefore, he was even more curious. Gregory did expect a piece by Mozart or Bach, but he decided he would just let himself get surprised.

Miles was the sixth performer, and he played the piece alone.

'Now our sixth performer of this lovely evening, Miles Edgeworth,' the teacher said and Miles stood up and got his flute from the case. Then, he stood next to Mr. Lewis. 'Miles will be playing a special piece, right Miles?' All eyes were fixed on Miles and he nodded shyly. His father smiled, seeing his boy's face getting more and more red. 'It is a special song for his father.' Miles found his father's eyes when his teacher had spoken those words and Gregory, who was first slightly surprised, gave his boy a warm smile.

His teacher sat back on the end of the first row, giving him a thumbs up. Miles blushed and looked away, setting the flute at his lips while glancing at the music sheet before him. He started the melody, not looking from his sheet even once. He pretended the people were not there, only his father and him. The thought made him slightly more comfortable.

He did not see his father's reaction, it was only after the last note that he looked up. He saw his father, wet eyes looking at him. However, when he saw Miles looking at him, his lips were formed into a smile. The sound of the applause eluded him, he was only fixated on his father.

Gregory could not wait for his son to begin playing. Then, he heard the al-so familiar tunes coming from Miles's flute. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, realizing that Miles had been studying the 'Hijo De La Luna' piece specially for him, because he saw that he liked the piece so much weeks ago. Without even noticing it himself, tears filled the corners of his eyes. His lovely son had in secret been practicing this piece, wanting to make him happy. He watched Miles, whose eyes kept looking at the sheet.

It was after the whole performance that Gregory almost ran towards his son.

'My son,' he spoke, wrapped his arms around his son and hugged Miles tightly.

'T-that was wonderful. Thank you, Miles.'

'Father…' Miles felt his father embracing him and he hugged back.

'I am so happy, Miles. So glad that you practiced this piece for me..,' he continued. 'Miles, my son…'

'Father… everyone is watching us,' Miles whispered. Gregory did not care and looked his son in the eyes.

'Thank you, my boy. You made me tremendously glad.' Miles felt a hand run through his hair and blushed.

'I am happy to hear that, father. I practiced hard.'

'I love you, Miles,' Gregory spoke and again, pulled him into a hug.

It was already dark when the performance finished and all children went home with their parents. Miles walked beside his father, one hand in his warm father's hand and the other with his flute case.

'Look, Miles, it is full moon tonight,' Gregory pointed at the grey full moon high up in the sky.

'A beautiful full luna,' Miles spoke. Gregory nodded with a smile and together with his son, he followed his way home.

Thank you, Miles.

A/N
I recently heard this song 'Hijo De La Luna' on the radio during this 'top 500 old songs' and I found it really beautiful, even though I do not speak Spanish. When I heard an instrumental version with the flute, this story popped into my head. It is quite sad (but also cute!), I apologize! haha
Link to original song: watch?v=TpWXyRq-SIw
Link to instrumental version: watch?v=b5nfNvNehPk