Author's Note: Thanks to
all the people who reviewed Christian's Tale! I know it's hard for you to
believe Christian wrote that wonderful poem at age three. So I will give you
two options: 1) You can pretend that Christian is a genius and wrote that at
age three. 2) You can forget about Christian being a three-year-old and think
of him as a five-year-old instead. I think I'll go for option number 2, won't
you? Anyway, I'll just make him five now instead of three.
Six months after the death of Lily Eleanor Hardling, George
got in touch with his wife's best friend, Julia Spar. Julia was 30, and she had
known Lily Eleanor Hardling since they were ten years old. Lily and Julia were
very close, and when Julia heard of Lily's death and the little son she left
behind, Julia immediately accepted the task of looking after Christian.
Julia was like a mother to Christian. She loved Christian
with all her heart and soul, and would always give him treats of some kind. In
return, Christian loved Julia very much. He knew she wasn't his mother, and
that his mother was the pretty woman with the curly brown hair whose picture
was hung in the hall and in his room, but Christian loved Julia all the same.
She was the only one who loved him dearly. All Christian's father cared about
was his business deals and how successful Christian would be when he grew up.
Christian never got any love from his father, and that was why Christian grew
up with the mentality that his father was heartless.
But luckily for Christian, he had Julia's unconditional love,
which he treasured very much. And that was why Christian felt that Love was the
most important thing in the whole wide world, for without Love, he wouldn't be
himself.
Today, Julia was getting Christian ready for his Big Day. It
was the birthday of Elisabeth, George Richard Hardling's business partner's
daughter.
Julia was bustling about Christian's spacious room, getting
various shirts, trousers, hats and jackets from the drawers along the whole
length of the room. Christian was standing glumly on his bed, reluctantly
trying on the clothes Julia handed to him. At the age of five, Christian's
brown hair had already grown rapidly, and some of the strands of hair flopped
over his piercing mint green eyes. Christian didn't take any notice of the
compliments that people they met in the streets gave him, but Julia did. And
she was proud. Proud of Christian and proud of her best friend Lily Eleanor for
bringing such a wonderful boy into the world.
Christian was reciting the poem that he had written over and
over again out loud; hoping that Julia would praise him like she had did on the
day of his father's outburst, but Julia was dumping suits and other clothes
onto the bed.
"The greatest thing
you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!!!" Christian
suddenly burst out in song, his voice perfectly in tune to a melody he'd made
up on the spot.
Julia stopped short and stared at Christian. Then she started
laughing. "Where did that come from?" she asked, and picked the little boy up.
"I don't know! The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be
loved in return!" he burst out again in song, with a cute little cheeky
grin on his face. Julia laughed again and twirled him around and around the
room. "Ahaha! My little boy is a singer! And a poet!" she cried happily, and
spun around the room with a joyous little Christian.
"Julia! Father told me that you used to teach singing! And
that you sang most beautifully! Tell me all about it!" Christian said, settling
himself back on the bed. And for that brief moment, Julia's eyes took on a
dreamy look, as if she was thinking of a far away land, where her dreams took
flight and turned into reality.
"Well Christian, I went to France at a very young age, 19, if
you can imagine it. I taught a gorgeous French woman singing, and she was
wonderful at it. She and I used to sing duets with each other. I taught her for
6 years! That's a very long time, Christian. Finally…" Julia paused, and
snapped back to reality. "You're late! And you're not even dressed yet! Come
along now and pull on this shirt! I'm sure you'll look handsome in it!" Julia
snatched up a soft white shirt and Christian slipped it on easily.
He fingered the material – so different from the coarse overalls
he usually wore. "Julia! This is so soft! Amazing! What is it?" he asked,
feeling the shirt slip through his grasp. Julia smiled and handed him the black
pants she'd gotten ready. "It's satin, Christian. It's called satin," she told
him.
"Satin…" he whispered. "Beautiful!" he smiled, and looked up
at Julia proudly. Julia laughed and helped him into the black vest. "Now hurry
along to your Father! He must be waiting! Hurry along now, Christian!" and she
gave Christian a little push, to emphasize her point.
Christian
sighed and looked up at Julia. "Julia… do I have to?" he asked miserably, and
sniffed. Julia looked down at Christian's sad face and gave him a bear hug, but
deep inside she felt as though her heart was breaking. She could not bear to see
Christian like this! "Go, Christian! I'll be right here waiting for you when
you get back!" she said, and smiled encouragingly, and watched as the little
boy ran out of the room.
Christian
and his father stepped out of the black carriage and into the noisy, bustling
train station. Christian tightened his grip on his shirt and peered about the
place from behind his father's long brown coat. "Come along now, Christian.
I've got to get us tickets to Manchester. You stay close to me, do you
understand? Don't get lost in the crowd," his father's deep voice came to his
ears.
Christian
nodded, only half listening. He was enthralled by the different people
everywhere. Some were sitting on benches reading newspapers, others were
standing around in groups talking and some were looking at notices and boards.
Christian followed his father to the ticket booth, where they had to queue up
at the end of the long line, and as the seconds passed ever so slowly,
Christian's eyes began to wander about. His sharp ears were faster, however,
and caught the faint, enchanting strains of a lovely song.
Christian
quickly turned his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of where the beautiful sound
was coming from. He saw a woman with blond dreadlocks, wearing a dirty brown
coat concealing a fanciful dancing dress. Next to the woman sat a young girl,
probably as old as Christian himself. The young girl, like Christian, was
absorbed in the song the woman was singing. She had large, beautiful eyes
shrouded by long eyelashes and soft red curls cascaded down her shoulders.
The
girl turned her head in Christian's direction and their eyes met. Both young
children studied each other inquisitively for some time. Then slowly, the
girl's features softened into a tentative yet warm smile. Christian stared back
with wide-open eyes. But before his reflexes could be registered, the woman,
who had stopped singing, got up and began to gather her belongings, getting
ready to leave. She took the girl's hand gently.
"Come
now, Satine, we must hurry or we'll miss the train to Paris," she explained
lovingly to the little girl. The little girl turned to look at Christian one
more time, but as much as Christian wanted to return her sweet smile, he was
struck by the mention of her name.
Satin? He thought, and instinctively looked down and
fingered his shirt. What a pretty name…
He looked back up; finally able to return the smile, but the
girl and the woman were gone.