Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
Author's notes: I'm glad that everyone is liking this so much! Gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. *preppy squeal* You can tell I've had far too much ice cream and read far too much Poe, can't you?
I know it sounds a bit strange, but I think that this is perhaps my favourite work out of everything I've ever written...CHILD ERIK (Ewik) IS SO HUGGABLE!!!! If you knew what he looked like in my mind, he would be strangled to death mentally....*squeezes him*
Ewik: o.o; *chokes*
*ignores*
This is going to be weird…twists in the plot are coming, and they're coming fast.
Gaia Angelus, thank you! ^^
Bubonic Woodchuck, ain't it adorable? I'm turning into a sap, aren't I?
Deirdre of the Sorrows, I know, Christine's starting to irk me, but my muses are feeling R/C at the moment…I'm mentally berating myself for it, too. Btw, I sketched a chibi drawing of mini-Nadir in this…he's too cute for words. *hugs him and hands him to you*
Mini-Nadir: o0;;;
Lavendar, the idea seemed odd to me at first as well…I just got into it once I began writing. Thank you so much! It was a mere chance story…didn't ever expect it to get written. I'm glad it's interesting, at least
Phantom Aria, thanks for the cookies! *munches on them* Ewik forever, eh?
I figured that I might as well turn the quote thing into a constant. For every chapter there will be a significant quote...and the Wordsworth quote from earlier is, in general, for the whole story...you'll see why. This quote is really important…take note of it.
"Children are the anchors that hold mothers to life."
~Sophocles
"Élan Vital"
Chapter Three: Mère et Père
My hand was nervously clasped in my "mother's" larger one as we walked toward the gate of the park. I glanced up at her face, and she was smiling. Dark eyes glittered from beneath a relaxed brow. Her face, which had reminded me of a sullen raven in sleep, looked very odd while smiling. It was as if her face was simply made to frown...the dimples in her cheeks could not have been more out of place on a monkey. Inside her there was sadness, outside, happiness. Her face did not mirror her true feelings, and I sympathised with her. Only a truly terrible person would dare to rob her of momentary joy such as this.
When we stood at the curb of the street, I glanced out onto the road and saw a huge black thing roar by. With my free hand, I rubbed my eyes. What had I seen? Several more followed, though they were not of the same shape and size as the massive black one. Childish instinct kicked in and caused me to seize her hand with a tighter grip. She looked down at me. "It's all right, you know...just stay on the cross-walk and hold my hand." I blinked. "They're just cars, dear." Cars? Cars? What were cars? There was something wrong...this wasn't 1881...her attire was entirely inappropriate; she wore blue trousers and a long black coat that went down to the middle of her thighs. A woman wearing trousers? My faithful reader, I know it does sound absurd, but it was true; these huge roaring contraptions blazing down the street at high speed and a woman in trousers do exist.
I quickly noticed that she was not the only one; many other women on the streets were wearing trousers... It was extremely revealing and—at least, I thought—socially unacceptable. I was the only one who thought so... From what I could tell, it was the height of fashion in the era. Shaking off these weird feelings, I held her hand tightly and crossed the street, trembling. At that moment I felt like a child; scared and small…not at all like the man I once was. Deep inside I was curious as to how the mechanisms actually worked, but my fear and instinct was a larger part of my person at that moment.
After about fifteen minutes of this mechanical nightmare, we were in front of a rather modern building. "We're home!" she said eagerly while she opened the door. Two flights of stairs later, she unlocked a door and I stepped into the "home" and glanced around it. A strange black screen was in front of some leather sofas, and we moved into a kitchen with many odd objects on the countertops. I was no longer afraid; I was curious. Everything worked, apparently, but how? To the inventor or mechanic, nothing could be more fascinating.
I reached out to touch a greyish object about the length of my hand to the middle of my forearm, when her voice broke me from my trance of desire for knowledge. "Darling, your father's in the study. He wants to see you…you miss him, don't you?" I paused for a minute, speechless.
"Yes," I said at last. She looked me over very carefully. There was something in her eyes that was alarmingly familiar. Our eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity, but, as I was soon to learn, eternity is a very long time…far too long for even this lengthy moment of unease. Nervous, I broke eye contact and proceeded to the door she indicated. It was open slightly, and I easily slipped through the crack.
The room was complete and utter chaos. Strange ringing noises emitted from grey-white objects on cluttered shelves. Piles of paper rose above the maple desk in a haphazard manner. A screen similar to the one in the first room almost—but not quite—cloaked the man's face from view. Messy dark hair fell to the middle of his forehead. Slanted, thin brows turned upward in confusion, frustration, and worry. Beneath them were two bright blue eyes that at once expressed the tenderness of a father and the weariness of a man who has been working for hours on end. His head snapped up as he spied me. "Well, hello," he said, grinning tiredly. After pressing some buttons on the weird plastic objects on his desk, there was total silence. "I know daddy hasn't been home, and I'm sorry…but I do love you."
I blinked. The one part of my life I had never had; a father. I had never really missed him. After all, how can one miss a man one does not even know? At that moment, hearing him say "I do love you" triggered an emotional reaction within me. Something snapped. Realising that I had missed him all of my life more than I could possibly understand and then having the gap filled was so utterly surprising and shocking that I could do nothing but fling myself into his arms and reply, "I love you too."
He was a bit shocked. "I haven't been away for that long, now, have I? I have some bad news…I have to leave again. Tonight." A part of me would leave. "I'll be back within the week. I have to visit those men in New York again."
I stayed silent.
"Take care of your mother, will you?" My head jerked up. He sighed. "Just watch for her. She's depending on you." I looked at him strangely. What did he mean? "She loves you more than anything, and if something were to happen…anything at all…I…why am I telling you this? Your little mind isn't ready for this sort of thing…" He hugged me close and then released me.
I jumped down from his lap and hastily left the room, where she was awaiting me. There was something odd…from his speech, from his manner, from her eyes, I could tell. Not everything is what it seems, at first. To see it all, you have to look past the reflection of the truth and see the truth. After all, reflections are the reverse of reality.
((Author's note: I am starting to weird myself out…the plot is developing in my mind, and the mother plays a very important part. I didn't mean for the moment between Erik and the father to be so sappy, but it just came out that way…*shrugs* The little bit at the end is huge; foreshadowing is fun! Please review.))