Title: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn....
Author: IrishRavenX
Disclaimer: Not mine. But you already knew that? What? You enjoy rubbing that in?! HUH!?! Hehe...
Author's note: Writers block vanquished for the time being. But I still want reviews...please? That shark is still out there some where, and I still need to get a bigger boat. ;P
Chapter VI
Christain watched Raymond push Kait, and started across the schoolyard, hoping to prevent another fray like the one at recess. But then he stopped, watching as Raymond was lifted up by the back of his collar, and brought face to face with a giant of man. The black man flashed the boy a wide smile, then put him down and gave him a pat on the head. Kait stood up and cast Ray a look, which if looks could kill; Ray would be a dent in the brick wall of the school. The black man picked up Kait's fallen books and took her hand, then they started towards an automobile parked on the grass.
Christian watched this all in amusement, as Ray quickly found somewhere else to be. He watched the two walk off, looking fixedly at the large black man. Had he seen him before?
Now what did we say about trying to find connections in things that aren't there, Christian?
He shook his head, as if to clear the mere idea from it, and went back to grading papers.
~*~
"Thank you, David," Kait said with a bright smile. Everyone else called David "Chocolat", but he confided in Kait that he like his real name better.
"No problem, my dear," Chocolat said, taking the young girl's books.
"I got in trouble today," Kait said, her smile fading, taking Chocolat's hand.
"Oh really?"
"Yes. The boy you picked up..."
"Yes?"
"Well...I hurt him at recess,"
"Did you, Kait? Why?"
"He called me a bastard freak. And he called you and the others circus freaks. And I got really mad...so..."
David stopped walking and looked to Kait.
"Miss Kait, you never need to stand up for us like that," Chocolat said, "We've dealt with insults before, and Kait, just ignore what they say. People are afraid of what they don't understand, and to some extent...we deserve it."
"Nobody deserves to be called a freak," Kait said, looking up at David's sad eyes, "Except maybe me." Chocolat stopped walking towards the car and again stopped, looking intensely at Kait. Kait suddenly found the ground very interesting.
"Never say that about yourself, Kait. Ever. You are a very special girl, and you've persevered through so much. More than you could ever imagine, dear Katie.
"What do you mean?"
A kind smile came back over Chocolat's face, and he started walking towards the car again.
"I'll tell you later, Miss Kait. We must get back to the estate. Your uncle will become worried."
"He's so overprotective," Kait sighed, getting into the car with Chocolat's help.
"For good reason, Miss Kait," Chocolat murmured, looking over his shoulder at the nearby cars, looking for one that looked a bit too expensive for the likes of the local towns folks.
Chocolat got into the car and started the engine. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kait turned to Chocolat and looked at him inquisitively.
"David, could you tell me the story of the evil maharaja, the sitar player and the beautiful courtesan again?"
"Of course," Chocolat said, looking at the young girl. She knew so little of the story of her parents, and he would occasionally drop her hints. Kait was a smart little girl, so tried to get the most she could out of David information wise. But also, she loved just hearing the stories.
"Once upon a time, there was an evil maharaja, whom we will call 'Evil Duke Richard' for the purpose of this story...."
~*~
Marie walked through the restricted portion of the upstairs hallway, occasionally dusting off the pictures and memorabilia she passed. Harold complained of that, saying that she should leave it to the maids, but she just kindly dismissed his protests. It was the only time she got to spend there, looking at their pasts. The pictures of the Moulin Rouge, the workers at that dreadful night club...the night club she had come to call home.
She came to a table where some pictures sat, a picked up one of the frames. It was her favorite picture of Satine. She was wearing her red dress, and holding a black rose. She was so happy. Marie remembered that the picture had been taken while Christian was with them for that year. He had been at the Moulin for a little under a year, and he had changed it more than anyone had imagined, in all the years it had been operating.
And no one was complaining about the change of scenery, of course, except for perhaps Harold. He liked being rich, famous and successful. The others didn't agree with Harold's theory...especially since they had been the people he was getting rich and famous off of.
"Auntie!"
Marie turned to see Kait standing in the doorway of the dim hallway, and she began walking towards her.
"Kait! What are you doing in here? Shoo, shoo!" Marie said, waving the feather duster frantically. It was quite a funny sight, really. It would be much more amusing if yelling didn't bother Kait as much as it did.
Kait quickly closed the door and ran off to another part of the house, leaving Marie in the darkened hallway with her memories.
~*~
Susan McRoberts watched as the red-haired woman stared out the window of the day room. Other patients with various problems wandered around the room, playing board games, table tennis, or just staring off into space. Susan had been assigned to the day room for the day. Might as well make some friends. She started towards the woman, laughing softly to herself. Making friends on the mentally disturbed ward. That said a lot for her. But this one woman...she didn't seem like the normal patient. The doctors said there had been brain damage during the coma, but the woman was quite aware.
"Good Afternoon, Miss," Susan greeted, sitting in the chair across from the red-haired woman.
"Good morning, Nurse McRoberts," the woman replied.
Susan was surprised. The red-haired woman had continually grown more and more talkative over the past few weeks. And apparently more observant. Susan glanced down at her nametag, which stated that her last name was McRoberts.
"Just call me Susan. Good morning Miss..."
"You may just call me Lynn, mi'dear,"
"Alright, Miss Lynn. Would you like to go for a stroll through the courtyard?"
Satine turned to look at the nurse and smiled. Such a considerate woman, this nurse was.
"I'd enjoy that, Susan," Satine said. She had decided to use her middle name. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, when it was, or how exactly she got there, but she did know that she wanted to be safe. And to keep her secrets safe.
Susan returned with a wheel chair, and Satine stood and got into it. Her legs were fine, but the doctors didn't want her walking about too much, until they figured out a way to treat the consumption, or; tuberculosis, as they called it. They said it was a miracle she had lived, then that it was a miracle that she had awakened from a coma. So how come she didn't feel so lucky, or miraculous, for that matter?
"So where to, Miss Lynn?"
"Any where you wish to go, Susan," Satine looked out into the fresh air, and took a cautious breath, "Are there any songbirds out here?"
"Why yes, of course. I hear them every morning when I arrive to work."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I really do like to hear them sing."
They walked through the courtyard, and Satine closed her eyes, listening to the birds.
"What type of music do you like, Lynn?" Susan asked as they strolled into the fresh air.
"Any kind, really. I love to sing,"
"Do you? I've never heard you."
"I haven't sung in long time, now. I don't know if I still can," Satine said quietly.
"Oh, I'm sure you can, Lynn. You don't seem like the type to give up,"
"No, I'm weak, Susan. Christian....Now he isn't...wasn't...isn't the type to give up. I just wish I knew..." she drifted off into thought.
"Christian?"
Susan smiled. It seems the former "Jane Doe" was beginning to remember some things. She wasn't going to let her stop at that. This woman obviously had a colourful past, and Susan wished to uncover it.
"Yes. He had the most wonderful voice. And his spirit...it seems unstoppable. And as I said, he never gives up."
~*~
"I give up," Christian muttered to himself, listening to the children recite Green-sleeves. These children were in eight grade, and hadn't the faintest idea what a quarter note was. Let alone an E flat. Christian winced.
After a few more moments of listening to the attempts at singing, Christian sighed. I suppose I really do have my work cut out for me here.
"Okay, class, that's a wrap for today."
The children gratefully dispersed and some of the sheet music floated to the floor as the children abruptly left. They most certainly seem eager to learn, all right. Christian mused sarcastically.
He walked around the stage, picking up the discarded pieces of paper. Then it hit him. The thought that hits all people who attempt to teach small children things they need for later life.
Why am I here? Christian walked back to the piano and sat down. What had possessed him to go into teaching, anyway?
Christian rubbed his face, and leaned on the piano, trying to remember.
"You've got to go on, Christian."
"I can't go on without you."
"You've got so much to give."
Satine.
Her dying words to him.
He stood up, looking round the empty auditorium, hearing the echo of voices long past in his head. He jumped up onto the stage and stared out into the empty audience, then onto the vacant stage, visions of long ago clear as if he was standing there, all those years ago.
It seems as though it had taken him eight years to figure out that it was indeed time to move on, though it had been lay before him all that time ago. He was here to give. To teach the talents he knew, to help others. To help others, to make their dreams come true.
Christian looked down at the papers in his hand, to the class schedule beside him, then to the clock.
He had a total of 22 free class periods a in a five-day,-eight-period-a-day week. And he had an hour and twenty minutes left to fill out the papers to become that part time creative writing English teacher the school needed.
He'd better get started.
Seconds later, the theatre was empty.
~*~
Hey folks. There's some interesting things unfolding in the next few chapters, things start coming together in the story. Open house...parent teacher night...less mind dulling medication for Satine...yeah. Should be interesting, eh?
I hope to post more soon, but I have a rather lengthy paper due next week, and I haven't really...well...started. Perhaps more reviews will bring the next chapter to a higher priority. Blackmail, you ask? Such a blatant term, but yes it is blackmail. More reviews equal sooner post. Hehe. Call me evil if you wish, but the review part of my ego is saying "FEED ME!" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!- (for emphasis).
Slan Agat!!!
-irishRavenX
Author: IrishRavenX
Disclaimer: Not mine. But you already knew that? What? You enjoy rubbing that in?! HUH!?! Hehe...
Author's note: Writers block vanquished for the time being. But I still want reviews...please? That shark is still out there some where, and I still need to get a bigger boat. ;P
Chapter VI
Christain watched Raymond push Kait, and started across the schoolyard, hoping to prevent another fray like the one at recess. But then he stopped, watching as Raymond was lifted up by the back of his collar, and brought face to face with a giant of man. The black man flashed the boy a wide smile, then put him down and gave him a pat on the head. Kait stood up and cast Ray a look, which if looks could kill; Ray would be a dent in the brick wall of the school. The black man picked up Kait's fallen books and took her hand, then they started towards an automobile parked on the grass.
Christian watched this all in amusement, as Ray quickly found somewhere else to be. He watched the two walk off, looking fixedly at the large black man. Had he seen him before?
Now what did we say about trying to find connections in things that aren't there, Christian?
He shook his head, as if to clear the mere idea from it, and went back to grading papers.
~*~
"Thank you, David," Kait said with a bright smile. Everyone else called David "Chocolat", but he confided in Kait that he like his real name better.
"No problem, my dear," Chocolat said, taking the young girl's books.
"I got in trouble today," Kait said, her smile fading, taking Chocolat's hand.
"Oh really?"
"Yes. The boy you picked up..."
"Yes?"
"Well...I hurt him at recess,"
"Did you, Kait? Why?"
"He called me a bastard freak. And he called you and the others circus freaks. And I got really mad...so..."
David stopped walking and looked to Kait.
"Miss Kait, you never need to stand up for us like that," Chocolat said, "We've dealt with insults before, and Kait, just ignore what they say. People are afraid of what they don't understand, and to some extent...we deserve it."
"Nobody deserves to be called a freak," Kait said, looking up at David's sad eyes, "Except maybe me." Chocolat stopped walking towards the car and again stopped, looking intensely at Kait. Kait suddenly found the ground very interesting.
"Never say that about yourself, Kait. Ever. You are a very special girl, and you've persevered through so much. More than you could ever imagine, dear Katie.
"What do you mean?"
A kind smile came back over Chocolat's face, and he started walking towards the car again.
"I'll tell you later, Miss Kait. We must get back to the estate. Your uncle will become worried."
"He's so overprotective," Kait sighed, getting into the car with Chocolat's help.
"For good reason, Miss Kait," Chocolat murmured, looking over his shoulder at the nearby cars, looking for one that looked a bit too expensive for the likes of the local towns folks.
Chocolat got into the car and started the engine. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kait turned to Chocolat and looked at him inquisitively.
"David, could you tell me the story of the evil maharaja, the sitar player and the beautiful courtesan again?"
"Of course," Chocolat said, looking at the young girl. She knew so little of the story of her parents, and he would occasionally drop her hints. Kait was a smart little girl, so tried to get the most she could out of David information wise. But also, she loved just hearing the stories.
"Once upon a time, there was an evil maharaja, whom we will call 'Evil Duke Richard' for the purpose of this story...."
~*~
Marie walked through the restricted portion of the upstairs hallway, occasionally dusting off the pictures and memorabilia she passed. Harold complained of that, saying that she should leave it to the maids, but she just kindly dismissed his protests. It was the only time she got to spend there, looking at their pasts. The pictures of the Moulin Rouge, the workers at that dreadful night club...the night club she had come to call home.
She came to a table where some pictures sat, a picked up one of the frames. It was her favorite picture of Satine. She was wearing her red dress, and holding a black rose. She was so happy. Marie remembered that the picture had been taken while Christian was with them for that year. He had been at the Moulin for a little under a year, and he had changed it more than anyone had imagined, in all the years it had been operating.
And no one was complaining about the change of scenery, of course, except for perhaps Harold. He liked being rich, famous and successful. The others didn't agree with Harold's theory...especially since they had been the people he was getting rich and famous off of.
"Auntie!"
Marie turned to see Kait standing in the doorway of the dim hallway, and she began walking towards her.
"Kait! What are you doing in here? Shoo, shoo!" Marie said, waving the feather duster frantically. It was quite a funny sight, really. It would be much more amusing if yelling didn't bother Kait as much as it did.
Kait quickly closed the door and ran off to another part of the house, leaving Marie in the darkened hallway with her memories.
~*~
Susan McRoberts watched as the red-haired woman stared out the window of the day room. Other patients with various problems wandered around the room, playing board games, table tennis, or just staring off into space. Susan had been assigned to the day room for the day. Might as well make some friends. She started towards the woman, laughing softly to herself. Making friends on the mentally disturbed ward. That said a lot for her. But this one woman...she didn't seem like the normal patient. The doctors said there had been brain damage during the coma, but the woman was quite aware.
"Good Afternoon, Miss," Susan greeted, sitting in the chair across from the red-haired woman.
"Good morning, Nurse McRoberts," the woman replied.
Susan was surprised. The red-haired woman had continually grown more and more talkative over the past few weeks. And apparently more observant. Susan glanced down at her nametag, which stated that her last name was McRoberts.
"Just call me Susan. Good morning Miss..."
"You may just call me Lynn, mi'dear,"
"Alright, Miss Lynn. Would you like to go for a stroll through the courtyard?"
Satine turned to look at the nurse and smiled. Such a considerate woman, this nurse was.
"I'd enjoy that, Susan," Satine said. She had decided to use her middle name. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, when it was, or how exactly she got there, but she did know that she wanted to be safe. And to keep her secrets safe.
Susan returned with a wheel chair, and Satine stood and got into it. Her legs were fine, but the doctors didn't want her walking about too much, until they figured out a way to treat the consumption, or; tuberculosis, as they called it. They said it was a miracle she had lived, then that it was a miracle that she had awakened from a coma. So how come she didn't feel so lucky, or miraculous, for that matter?
"So where to, Miss Lynn?"
"Any where you wish to go, Susan," Satine looked out into the fresh air, and took a cautious breath, "Are there any songbirds out here?"
"Why yes, of course. I hear them every morning when I arrive to work."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I really do like to hear them sing."
They walked through the courtyard, and Satine closed her eyes, listening to the birds.
"What type of music do you like, Lynn?" Susan asked as they strolled into the fresh air.
"Any kind, really. I love to sing,"
"Do you? I've never heard you."
"I haven't sung in long time, now. I don't know if I still can," Satine said quietly.
"Oh, I'm sure you can, Lynn. You don't seem like the type to give up,"
"No, I'm weak, Susan. Christian....Now he isn't...wasn't...isn't the type to give up. I just wish I knew..." she drifted off into thought.
"Christian?"
Susan smiled. It seems the former "Jane Doe" was beginning to remember some things. She wasn't going to let her stop at that. This woman obviously had a colourful past, and Susan wished to uncover it.
"Yes. He had the most wonderful voice. And his spirit...it seems unstoppable. And as I said, he never gives up."
~*~
"I give up," Christian muttered to himself, listening to the children recite Green-sleeves. These children were in eight grade, and hadn't the faintest idea what a quarter note was. Let alone an E flat. Christian winced.
After a few more moments of listening to the attempts at singing, Christian sighed. I suppose I really do have my work cut out for me here.
"Okay, class, that's a wrap for today."
The children gratefully dispersed and some of the sheet music floated to the floor as the children abruptly left. They most certainly seem eager to learn, all right. Christian mused sarcastically.
He walked around the stage, picking up the discarded pieces of paper. Then it hit him. The thought that hits all people who attempt to teach small children things they need for later life.
Why am I here? Christian walked back to the piano and sat down. What had possessed him to go into teaching, anyway?
Christian rubbed his face, and leaned on the piano, trying to remember.
"You've got to go on, Christian."
"I can't go on without you."
"You've got so much to give."
Satine.
Her dying words to him.
He stood up, looking round the empty auditorium, hearing the echo of voices long past in his head. He jumped up onto the stage and stared out into the empty audience, then onto the vacant stage, visions of long ago clear as if he was standing there, all those years ago.
It seems as though it had taken him eight years to figure out that it was indeed time to move on, though it had been lay before him all that time ago. He was here to give. To teach the talents he knew, to help others. To help others, to make their dreams come true.
Christian looked down at the papers in his hand, to the class schedule beside him, then to the clock.
He had a total of 22 free class periods a in a five-day,-eight-period-a-day week. And he had an hour and twenty minutes left to fill out the papers to become that part time creative writing English teacher the school needed.
He'd better get started.
Seconds later, the theatre was empty.
~*~
Hey folks. There's some interesting things unfolding in the next few chapters, things start coming together in the story. Open house...parent teacher night...less mind dulling medication for Satine...yeah. Should be interesting, eh?
I hope to post more soon, but I have a rather lengthy paper due next week, and I haven't really...well...started. Perhaps more reviews will bring the next chapter to a higher priority. Blackmail, you ask? Such a blatant term, but yes it is blackmail. More reviews equal sooner post. Hehe. Call me evil if you wish, but the review part of my ego is saying "FEED ME!" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!- (for emphasis).
Slan Agat!!!
-irishRavenX
