Author: SirBalin'sMistress (formerly known as IrishRavenX)
Title: The Greatest Thing you'll ever learn.
Dislclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Baz's sandbox. I am getting no money from this story; I have no money, and won't be getting any money in the foreseeable future. So suing me would be a BIG waste of time.
Author's Note: Yeah, yeah. This is an overused plot, but please bear with me. I'll attempt to create a twist, but without some feedback, I won't know how I'm doing.
Feedback: Yes, please. But if you just want to curse at me for using a same old plot, I have an e-mail you can use. IrishRavenX@hotmail.com. I don't post regularly, 'cause I'm usually somewhere else rather than home, or near a computer. (A different country, for example)
And now, on with the feature presentation.
The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn. Chapter 1
"Last stop coming up, ladies and gentlemen!"
The conductor walked down the aisle, and glanced at one of the few passengers left on the train, a man, desolately staring out the window. He was unshaven, with wild, dark brown, almost black hair. He was well dressed, in a suit, though it was wrinkled, adding to the man's seemingly disheveled look.
"We're coming up on the last stop in the next few minutes, sir," the conductor said to him, making sure he had heard.
The man turned to look at him, and the conductor was taken aback by the look on his face. The young man's eyes were haunted orbs, the sea-bluish- green as turbulent as the ocean. Despite the man's young look, he seemed far older than his years.
"Thank you," the man said in an accent, which the conductor could not easily identify. The conductor gave him a sympathetic nod, and continued to make his way down the aisle.
Christian James turned back to the window, watching as the English countryside passed by, lost in thought. Eight years had passed by since his life had been torn apart. Eight years, 10 months, and 24 days. He'd lost track of the hours. Eight years since his one and only love had died. It seemed very, very long ago now.though sometimes the fateful day was so clear in his mind, it felt like it was only yesterday. People told him to move on...not to waste his youth. But no matter how many times he told him self to just get on with his life..something always reminded him of her, and sent him careening back to his dreary way of life, and bottle of Absenthine. Now...now he had gotten his act, so to speak, back together. He had made enough money to live comfortable off the books of poetry he had written, and would soon have a steady job. Christian didn't have to work. He had enough money to sustain himself, but hours without anything to keep his mind from wandering would soon prove critical to his health. Too much time to think..to think about what he had lost---to think about her. His dear Satine.
Christian shook his head, as if to clear the thought from his head. He needed to focus on the future. He had a new life to look forward to, a new life of teaching the next generation. Christian had gotten a job at a school on the outskirts of London. And there was no better place to be unable to hear yourself think than a school. The Jean-Francis School of Music and learning. Kindergarten through 12th grade students. And they were in need of a music teacher. It wasn't the most glorifying job, but it was something he wished to do. If it didn't work out, it wouldn't cost him anything.
I needed to get out of Paris anyway. he thought wryly.
Being so near the Moulin Rouge seemed to make his depression worse. He would have moved farther away...maybe to America--- but he never did. Although he couldn't stand being near the Moulin Rouge...he couldn't stand being too far away from the dreaded place either. Christian looked down at the leather book bound on top of his luggage on the seat beside him, and a slight smile played across his features. Five years ago, he had gotten it published. Their story. Her story. Satine may have died, but now she would live on forever, and even if it was only on paper.it was the least he could do for her.
"Last stop!!!"
Christian looked up at the conductor, who was making his rounds again, then out the window. Back in England. Back in the real world. It was time to start over. Start his life anew. No more sulking. No more drinking. A normal life....
Christian picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and with his prized book in hand, stepped off the train.
~*~
"Katherine S. James, get in her this minute!"
Marie Zidler stood in the doorway of the large mansion estate with her arms crossed, observing the young girl sitting in the mud.
"But Nana!" Kait protested, a pout forming on her face, "I haven't finished burying Monsieur Fluffy yet!"
"No But's, Katherine. Come out of that mess and get cleaned up for bed!" Marie called.
Kait's 'deceased' pet rock would have to have its funeral postponed. With a sigh of defeat, Kait got up from the mud and walked inside.
"Now take off your shoes and go upstairs. Lauren is pouring your bath now."
"Yes Nana," Kait sighed in defeat. She trudged up the stairs as noisily as possible, dragging Rosco, her stuffed dog behind her.
Harry Zidler watched with amusement as the young Raven-haired girl with a muddied lace dress stomped up the stairs as she usually did when she didn't get her way.
"What's wrong, my little song bird?" Harry asked.
Kait's beautiful changing sea-blue eyes met his curious look, still pouting.
"Aunt Marie won't let me finish giving Monsieur Fluffy a proper burial," Kait said, her beautiful blue eyes focusing on the floor. Her eyes were beautiful, and seemed to change like the sea. Some times cool and smooth, a dark blue, or could suddenly turn greenish blue with fury like the violent ocean storm.
"Don't pout over that, little chickpea," Harry said perkily, "You can bury him tomorrow after school! I'll even help with the service if you'd like. And maybe bring a nice box to put him in. That ground in awfully cold."
Kait gave him an odd look, and giggled. She wasn't such a small little girl any more, but still imaginative.
"He's dead, silly. He can't tell if it's cold or not!"
"Well excuse me," Harry said with mock indignance, "I forgot you were the smartest little girl in the world,"
"Well don't you forget it again, papa!" Kait giggled. He scooped her up and twirled her around in the air, and she squealed in delight. Harry placed her back on her feet, and she gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Goodnight grandpapa!"
"Good-night, chickpea,"
Kait skipped the rest of the way to her room humming happily.
"I don't know how you do it. She can be in the foulest mood for hours, and after talking to you for two minutes, she's the happiest little girl in the world." Marie said with a sigh.
"I'm just good with children," Harry said proudly.
"Well then, you won't mind babysitting Kait's late pet rock for awhile, eh?" Marie asked wryly, slapping the muddied rock with a smiley face drawn on it into Zidler's hand. Harry smiled.
Kait could act very mature, and much older than her years, but things like this reminded him that she really was only 8-years old, and a very imaginative 8-year old at that.
Marie smiled and walked off, leaving Harry standing in the hall. He began to walk towards his study, but the soft and beautiful sound of Kait's voice echoed down the hall, making Harry's eyes cloud over in memory and sadness. The little seven-year old girl---her mother's daughter, indefinitely. She had Satine's eyes, she had her face---and most of all, she had her voice.
"One day I'll fly away...leave all this to yesterday...why live life from dream to dream...and dread the day...when dreaming ends.One day I'll fly away...fly..fly...away...." ***
Chocolat walked up the stairs of the Mansion to find Monsieur Zidler standing in the middle of the hall, staring blankly down the corridor. The last notes of Kait's song drifted down, and Chocolat stopped a few steps behind him. Little Kait hadn't know her mother, or her father, and no one had ever told her of the story behind it all.but some how she knew more than any one had told her. It was just passed off as a coincidence.
She probably remembered some of the Moulin Rouge before Harry and Marie, and a the few others of the staff who were still there, packed up and came to London, moving into the large Mansion. They all lead normal lives, some had gotten married, and most of them lived in this little town. Anyone who had seen them before at the Moulin Rouge probably wouldn't recognize them without all the silly costumes and make-up; but they would suffer from an acute plague of de ja vu while they stayed around.
It had taken a lot to fix up the estate they had moved onto, which had been in ruins, but now everyone there had a stable job, either as servants for the Zidlers, or in town. Harry had some how come into a very large sum of money, and now had little need to work. There was a quiet rumor that he had millions of dollars from the Moulin Rouge, that none of them ever saw.but it was only a rumor.any way, he supported everyone, and that's all they asked for. Harry didn't move for a long time, just staring down the hallway.
"She is so much like her mother," Chocolat said softly, bringing Zidler out of his trance.
"If only Satine was around to see her now. She would be so proud of her little girl..."
At that, Zidler turned and walked past Chocolat, towards the West wing of the estate to watch the sunset, as he did every evening.
~*~
Christian glanced out the window of the carriage, which was plodding along slowly towards his new estate. The sun was beginning to set, colors and rays of sun playing across the clouds and horizon. He passed many large mansions as the driver directed the horses towards his estate. With the money he had made off of writing, he had been able to by a small estate. It was within walking distance of the school he was going to teach at. He didn't much care where he lived, as long as it had a roof, but Toulouse had managed to convince him to buy it.
He just wants an excuse to take a vacation in the English country side, Christian thought wryly.
He was jolted forward as the carriage hit another bump, and the cart stopped. Christian stepped out of the carriage to see the driver crouched down, looking at a broken wheel.
"I'm terrible sorry, Mr. James. I'll go to one of the houses here and call for another carriage----"
Christian smiled kindly and shook his head, stopping the drivers babbling.
"I can walk the rest of the way Reynolds," he said cheerfully, "It's a lovely evening,"
"I'll carry your luggage for you----"
"No, no.it's alright. I don't have much," Christian said, "Do you need to have someone come pick you up? You can call from my house,"
"Oh, no sir," the driver said, "I can take the horse into town. But thank you for your concern, sir,"
Christian slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his book, and the typewriter case, and headed down the dirt road towards his house. The sun hadn't yet set, and the orange glow lit up the fields of wheat and cattle grazing grounds. The other houses were getting farther and farther apart as he went on. He passed one large estate and looked it over with curiosity. There were a few servants on the porch, sitting and chatting. It was a very large mansion, and painted white. There was some artwork drawn on the porch's back wall, but he was too far away to see it clearly. Christian caught a flicker of movement from one of the upper rooms, and made out the figure of a man sitting near the window. He looked away, losing interest and continued on his way. A few moments later, a large, and rather hairy dog came galloping after him, appearing out of the woods near the estate. The massive animal was followed equally as fast by young man, who was obviously trying to catch it. The dog was coming straight at Christian, snarling, but as it got closer, it slowed, and walked up to him. Christian smiled, and held out his hand, and the dog, which seconds before seemed as though it wanted to tear his limbs off; sat next to him with an approving growl. It was a huge dog, about the size of a great dane, but longhaired. It was some sort of mix: between a Great Dane and an Australian sheep dog, perhaps. The young man slowed, looking at them with awe and curiosity.
"I'm sorry about that," the man said contritely, close to babbling, "He always manages to get off his tether,"
"It's alright. No harm done," Christian said, scratching the dog behind its ears,
"He seems quite well-mannered too me,"
"Well, don't let that deceive you sir. You're the only one I know of aside from little Miss James this mutt'll let get near him,"
The dog growled, barring it's teeth at the boy, the went back to having it's ears scratched.
"Miss James?" Christian asked, curious of this person who shared his last name.
"She's the little girl who lives in that estate over there," the boy said, nodding to the large estate Christian had just passed, "Lives with her grandparents, I think. Or maybe her aunt and uncle. No one really knows much about 'em. An odd lot they are,"
Christian shrugged, and reached down, picking up the dog's leash, and handed it to the young man.
"Good luck in getting him home," Christian said, realizing that the animal offset the young man by a good 50 pounds.
"I'm sure to need it," the man replied, lurching as the dog moved forward. Christian chuckled softly to himself, and continued towards his house in the twilight.
~*~
Kait sat on her bed, staring out the window. The first stars were beginning to appear on the dark, dark purple sky. She knew she really should be getting to bed, but the sky was so clear. Seconds later, Kait was seated in her window seat, looking up at the sky. A nighttime breeze floated in from the small window slits above her, the scent of flowers and wheat reaching her. Staring up, she realized she both hated and loved the nighttime. She loved the stars, the moonlight, even the darkness. But it gave her too much time to think. And the dreams..the dreams scared and confused her. Some were good dreams, even wonderful...all were filled with music, colors, fancy clothes, dancing..and her mother. At least she thought it was her mother. She was very pretty, and always smiling. But she remembered sadness...crying...anger...
She had asked her Nana Marie and Grandpapa Harry about it, about her mama and papa, but they never seemed to want to talk about it. They always got a strange, sad look on their faces when she asked. Nana Marie said that they had gone away, and weren't ever going to come back. Some others, some of her friends who worked in the house said that they were dead. But either way, she had been told..either way, they weren't coming back. But her mommy wasn't the bad part of the dream, and neither was the nice, brown-haired singing man. The bad parts were the crying and the yelling. The two men...the two mean men. One was tall, a bald, giant of a man and the short, rat-like man with big teeth. And then...when mama fell and the singing man cried. That was the hazy part. She couldn't tell what was going on. All she remembered well was the music. The beautiful music she remembered, and heard everyday. She had never told her Nana and Papa about the dreams. She didn't want to make them upset, like they got whenever she tried to talk about Mama or Daddy. She really, *really* hoped they would come back...but everyone told her they wouldn't.
It's best not to think about it, Kait resolved. But she still couldn't help but wonder....
"Katherine?! Are you in bed yet?"
Kait scurried back to her bed and got under the covers. Marie and Harry came to tuck her in and kissed her good-night, like usual. Soon she was asleep with music running through her head. Songs she heard as soon as she slipped into her dream world of colors, dancing, and sadness.
*_My gift is my song...and this one's for you. And you can tell everybody, that this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it's done..I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world. I sat on the roof, and I kicked off the moss...well some of these verses, well they've got me quite cross. But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on. So excuse me forgetting but these things I do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue....anyway the thing is what I really mean.. yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it's done.. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world. Hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world..._*
~*~
Title: The Greatest Thing you'll ever learn.
Dislclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Baz's sandbox. I am getting no money from this story; I have no money, and won't be getting any money in the foreseeable future. So suing me would be a BIG waste of time.
Author's Note: Yeah, yeah. This is an overused plot, but please bear with me. I'll attempt to create a twist, but without some feedback, I won't know how I'm doing.
Feedback: Yes, please. But if you just want to curse at me for using a same old plot, I have an e-mail you can use. IrishRavenX@hotmail.com. I don't post regularly, 'cause I'm usually somewhere else rather than home, or near a computer. (A different country, for example)
And now, on with the feature presentation.
The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn. Chapter 1
"Last stop coming up, ladies and gentlemen!"
The conductor walked down the aisle, and glanced at one of the few passengers left on the train, a man, desolately staring out the window. He was unshaven, with wild, dark brown, almost black hair. He was well dressed, in a suit, though it was wrinkled, adding to the man's seemingly disheveled look.
"We're coming up on the last stop in the next few minutes, sir," the conductor said to him, making sure he had heard.
The man turned to look at him, and the conductor was taken aback by the look on his face. The young man's eyes were haunted orbs, the sea-bluish- green as turbulent as the ocean. Despite the man's young look, he seemed far older than his years.
"Thank you," the man said in an accent, which the conductor could not easily identify. The conductor gave him a sympathetic nod, and continued to make his way down the aisle.
Christian James turned back to the window, watching as the English countryside passed by, lost in thought. Eight years had passed by since his life had been torn apart. Eight years, 10 months, and 24 days. He'd lost track of the hours. Eight years since his one and only love had died. It seemed very, very long ago now.though sometimes the fateful day was so clear in his mind, it felt like it was only yesterday. People told him to move on...not to waste his youth. But no matter how many times he told him self to just get on with his life..something always reminded him of her, and sent him careening back to his dreary way of life, and bottle of Absenthine. Now...now he had gotten his act, so to speak, back together. He had made enough money to live comfortable off the books of poetry he had written, and would soon have a steady job. Christian didn't have to work. He had enough money to sustain himself, but hours without anything to keep his mind from wandering would soon prove critical to his health. Too much time to think..to think about what he had lost---to think about her. His dear Satine.
Christian shook his head, as if to clear the thought from his head. He needed to focus on the future. He had a new life to look forward to, a new life of teaching the next generation. Christian had gotten a job at a school on the outskirts of London. And there was no better place to be unable to hear yourself think than a school. The Jean-Francis School of Music and learning. Kindergarten through 12th grade students. And they were in need of a music teacher. It wasn't the most glorifying job, but it was something he wished to do. If it didn't work out, it wouldn't cost him anything.
I needed to get out of Paris anyway. he thought wryly.
Being so near the Moulin Rouge seemed to make his depression worse. He would have moved farther away...maybe to America--- but he never did. Although he couldn't stand being near the Moulin Rouge...he couldn't stand being too far away from the dreaded place either. Christian looked down at the leather book bound on top of his luggage on the seat beside him, and a slight smile played across his features. Five years ago, he had gotten it published. Their story. Her story. Satine may have died, but now she would live on forever, and even if it was only on paper.it was the least he could do for her.
"Last stop!!!"
Christian looked up at the conductor, who was making his rounds again, then out the window. Back in England. Back in the real world. It was time to start over. Start his life anew. No more sulking. No more drinking. A normal life....
Christian picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and with his prized book in hand, stepped off the train.
~*~
"Katherine S. James, get in her this minute!"
Marie Zidler stood in the doorway of the large mansion estate with her arms crossed, observing the young girl sitting in the mud.
"But Nana!" Kait protested, a pout forming on her face, "I haven't finished burying Monsieur Fluffy yet!"
"No But's, Katherine. Come out of that mess and get cleaned up for bed!" Marie called.
Kait's 'deceased' pet rock would have to have its funeral postponed. With a sigh of defeat, Kait got up from the mud and walked inside.
"Now take off your shoes and go upstairs. Lauren is pouring your bath now."
"Yes Nana," Kait sighed in defeat. She trudged up the stairs as noisily as possible, dragging Rosco, her stuffed dog behind her.
Harry Zidler watched with amusement as the young Raven-haired girl with a muddied lace dress stomped up the stairs as she usually did when she didn't get her way.
"What's wrong, my little song bird?" Harry asked.
Kait's beautiful changing sea-blue eyes met his curious look, still pouting.
"Aunt Marie won't let me finish giving Monsieur Fluffy a proper burial," Kait said, her beautiful blue eyes focusing on the floor. Her eyes were beautiful, and seemed to change like the sea. Some times cool and smooth, a dark blue, or could suddenly turn greenish blue with fury like the violent ocean storm.
"Don't pout over that, little chickpea," Harry said perkily, "You can bury him tomorrow after school! I'll even help with the service if you'd like. And maybe bring a nice box to put him in. That ground in awfully cold."
Kait gave him an odd look, and giggled. She wasn't such a small little girl any more, but still imaginative.
"He's dead, silly. He can't tell if it's cold or not!"
"Well excuse me," Harry said with mock indignance, "I forgot you were the smartest little girl in the world,"
"Well don't you forget it again, papa!" Kait giggled. He scooped her up and twirled her around in the air, and she squealed in delight. Harry placed her back on her feet, and she gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Goodnight grandpapa!"
"Good-night, chickpea,"
Kait skipped the rest of the way to her room humming happily.
"I don't know how you do it. She can be in the foulest mood for hours, and after talking to you for two minutes, she's the happiest little girl in the world." Marie said with a sigh.
"I'm just good with children," Harry said proudly.
"Well then, you won't mind babysitting Kait's late pet rock for awhile, eh?" Marie asked wryly, slapping the muddied rock with a smiley face drawn on it into Zidler's hand. Harry smiled.
Kait could act very mature, and much older than her years, but things like this reminded him that she really was only 8-years old, and a very imaginative 8-year old at that.
Marie smiled and walked off, leaving Harry standing in the hall. He began to walk towards his study, but the soft and beautiful sound of Kait's voice echoed down the hall, making Harry's eyes cloud over in memory and sadness. The little seven-year old girl---her mother's daughter, indefinitely. She had Satine's eyes, she had her face---and most of all, she had her voice.
"One day I'll fly away...leave all this to yesterday...why live life from dream to dream...and dread the day...when dreaming ends.One day I'll fly away...fly..fly...away...." ***
Chocolat walked up the stairs of the Mansion to find Monsieur Zidler standing in the middle of the hall, staring blankly down the corridor. The last notes of Kait's song drifted down, and Chocolat stopped a few steps behind him. Little Kait hadn't know her mother, or her father, and no one had ever told her of the story behind it all.but some how she knew more than any one had told her. It was just passed off as a coincidence.
She probably remembered some of the Moulin Rouge before Harry and Marie, and a the few others of the staff who were still there, packed up and came to London, moving into the large Mansion. They all lead normal lives, some had gotten married, and most of them lived in this little town. Anyone who had seen them before at the Moulin Rouge probably wouldn't recognize them without all the silly costumes and make-up; but they would suffer from an acute plague of de ja vu while they stayed around.
It had taken a lot to fix up the estate they had moved onto, which had been in ruins, but now everyone there had a stable job, either as servants for the Zidlers, or in town. Harry had some how come into a very large sum of money, and now had little need to work. There was a quiet rumor that he had millions of dollars from the Moulin Rouge, that none of them ever saw.but it was only a rumor.any way, he supported everyone, and that's all they asked for. Harry didn't move for a long time, just staring down the hallway.
"She is so much like her mother," Chocolat said softly, bringing Zidler out of his trance.
"If only Satine was around to see her now. She would be so proud of her little girl..."
At that, Zidler turned and walked past Chocolat, towards the West wing of the estate to watch the sunset, as he did every evening.
~*~
Christian glanced out the window of the carriage, which was plodding along slowly towards his new estate. The sun was beginning to set, colors and rays of sun playing across the clouds and horizon. He passed many large mansions as the driver directed the horses towards his estate. With the money he had made off of writing, he had been able to by a small estate. It was within walking distance of the school he was going to teach at. He didn't much care where he lived, as long as it had a roof, but Toulouse had managed to convince him to buy it.
He just wants an excuse to take a vacation in the English country side, Christian thought wryly.
He was jolted forward as the carriage hit another bump, and the cart stopped. Christian stepped out of the carriage to see the driver crouched down, looking at a broken wheel.
"I'm terrible sorry, Mr. James. I'll go to one of the houses here and call for another carriage----"
Christian smiled kindly and shook his head, stopping the drivers babbling.
"I can walk the rest of the way Reynolds," he said cheerfully, "It's a lovely evening,"
"I'll carry your luggage for you----"
"No, no.it's alright. I don't have much," Christian said, "Do you need to have someone come pick you up? You can call from my house,"
"Oh, no sir," the driver said, "I can take the horse into town. But thank you for your concern, sir,"
Christian slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his book, and the typewriter case, and headed down the dirt road towards his house. The sun hadn't yet set, and the orange glow lit up the fields of wheat and cattle grazing grounds. The other houses were getting farther and farther apart as he went on. He passed one large estate and looked it over with curiosity. There were a few servants on the porch, sitting and chatting. It was a very large mansion, and painted white. There was some artwork drawn on the porch's back wall, but he was too far away to see it clearly. Christian caught a flicker of movement from one of the upper rooms, and made out the figure of a man sitting near the window. He looked away, losing interest and continued on his way. A few moments later, a large, and rather hairy dog came galloping after him, appearing out of the woods near the estate. The massive animal was followed equally as fast by young man, who was obviously trying to catch it. The dog was coming straight at Christian, snarling, but as it got closer, it slowed, and walked up to him. Christian smiled, and held out his hand, and the dog, which seconds before seemed as though it wanted to tear his limbs off; sat next to him with an approving growl. It was a huge dog, about the size of a great dane, but longhaired. It was some sort of mix: between a Great Dane and an Australian sheep dog, perhaps. The young man slowed, looking at them with awe and curiosity.
"I'm sorry about that," the man said contritely, close to babbling, "He always manages to get off his tether,"
"It's alright. No harm done," Christian said, scratching the dog behind its ears,
"He seems quite well-mannered too me,"
"Well, don't let that deceive you sir. You're the only one I know of aside from little Miss James this mutt'll let get near him,"
The dog growled, barring it's teeth at the boy, the went back to having it's ears scratched.
"Miss James?" Christian asked, curious of this person who shared his last name.
"She's the little girl who lives in that estate over there," the boy said, nodding to the large estate Christian had just passed, "Lives with her grandparents, I think. Or maybe her aunt and uncle. No one really knows much about 'em. An odd lot they are,"
Christian shrugged, and reached down, picking up the dog's leash, and handed it to the young man.
"Good luck in getting him home," Christian said, realizing that the animal offset the young man by a good 50 pounds.
"I'm sure to need it," the man replied, lurching as the dog moved forward. Christian chuckled softly to himself, and continued towards his house in the twilight.
~*~
Kait sat on her bed, staring out the window. The first stars were beginning to appear on the dark, dark purple sky. She knew she really should be getting to bed, but the sky was so clear. Seconds later, Kait was seated in her window seat, looking up at the sky. A nighttime breeze floated in from the small window slits above her, the scent of flowers and wheat reaching her. Staring up, she realized she both hated and loved the nighttime. She loved the stars, the moonlight, even the darkness. But it gave her too much time to think. And the dreams..the dreams scared and confused her. Some were good dreams, even wonderful...all were filled with music, colors, fancy clothes, dancing..and her mother. At least she thought it was her mother. She was very pretty, and always smiling. But she remembered sadness...crying...anger...
She had asked her Nana Marie and Grandpapa Harry about it, about her mama and papa, but they never seemed to want to talk about it. They always got a strange, sad look on their faces when she asked. Nana Marie said that they had gone away, and weren't ever going to come back. Some others, some of her friends who worked in the house said that they were dead. But either way, she had been told..either way, they weren't coming back. But her mommy wasn't the bad part of the dream, and neither was the nice, brown-haired singing man. The bad parts were the crying and the yelling. The two men...the two mean men. One was tall, a bald, giant of a man and the short, rat-like man with big teeth. And then...when mama fell and the singing man cried. That was the hazy part. She couldn't tell what was going on. All she remembered well was the music. The beautiful music she remembered, and heard everyday. She had never told her Nana and Papa about the dreams. She didn't want to make them upset, like they got whenever she tried to talk about Mama or Daddy. She really, *really* hoped they would come back...but everyone told her they wouldn't.
It's best not to think about it, Kait resolved. But she still couldn't help but wonder....
"Katherine?! Are you in bed yet?"
Kait scurried back to her bed and got under the covers. Marie and Harry came to tuck her in and kissed her good-night, like usual. Soon she was asleep with music running through her head. Songs she heard as soon as she slipped into her dream world of colors, dancing, and sadness.
*_My gift is my song...and this one's for you. And you can tell everybody, that this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it's done..I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world. I sat on the roof, and I kicked off the moss...well some of these verses, well they've got me quite cross. But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on. So excuse me forgetting but these things I do. You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue....anyway the thing is what I really mean.. yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it's done.. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world. Hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words... How wonderful life is, now you're in the world..._*
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