Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well...that's not the exact way to put it, but I
trust you can figure it out. Anything you recognize...it ain't mine.
Anything you don't recognize...it's mine, or you haven't watched the movie
enough times.
Another note: Soooooo much thanks to you, ObiMcGregorFan (I don't remember your real pen name, feel free to correct me. I could not have continued without the constant reminders, and many of the really good ideas. Yes, really, really good ideas. So I must give her much of the credit. Thank you thank you.
Feed back: Yes please!!!! I've only been able to get around to another chapter because I've had all you helping me along, and encouraging me!! A special thanks to: Ix Kara xI, Katie, BeetleBon99, Tani, and Lady Jade. I couldn't have done it without you. And a big ol' thanks to everyone else who has reviewed, and especially ObiMcGregorFan!!!!
Author's pathetic excuse: I'm sorry!!!! Don't hurt me!!!! I've been really really really really busy (and a bit lazy...a bit...) but either way, I've finally updated, and would appreciate it if I was not killed for the great delay. (Especially since I would like to finish this story, and being killed would be quite bad for that process.)
And without any further rambling...I give you...
Chapter VII
Kait finished the last brush stroke and stepped back to look at her artwork. The set of the play was finished down to the last detail, except for the buttons on the suit of the man in the sitar. And the faces. The set was elaborate, but the faces of the people were not clear. She had tried to the best of her ability, but she could not remember the faces. She remembered the eyes.the hair.the cruelty..the love. Nini, David.and a few of the others were in the pictures, as well as some of the others from the estate. She had seen it once in the "forbidden hallway", but Kait felt as though she had seen it previously, but now it seemed like only a dream.
With a sigh Kait put down her paintbrush, and looked at her dress. Using a paintbrush never seemed to do her much good, since the majority of it usually got all over her clothes and hands anyhow.
She walked over to the waterspout, and washed off her hands, and tried to rub some of the stains out of her dress. It didn't really matter. She had many dresses. Kait wondered why she had so much when others had so little; David said that it was because they were rich. But that the money they had was stained red with blood. She didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound at all good. The laughter of her peers brought Kait back to reality. Kait looked around the classroom, at all the other children laughing and talking, and having an overall good time. As usual. And she just sat in her little corner of the room and painted. But she did have people to talk to, they were just quieter than the others during class. Kait turned to look at Jillian and Desmon, who were silently painting their works of art.
Jillian was a girl, three years older than Kait, who had dark green eyes, and auburn hair. She was from Scotland, and her voice was heavily accented. She actually knew more Gaelic than she did English, and so, people wouldn't speak with her unless they had to. Jillian was a very interesting girl, who was fluent in five languages, and knew bits of at least five more.
Desmon was a short Argentinean lad, who was also quiet, but unusually smart for his age.
"I like your painting, Kait," Desmon said, looking at his friend's artwork, "It's very articulate. Eloquent."
Kait just laughed. He used large words on a regular basis, which sounded so odd coming from someone of his...height.
"Thank you Desmon," Kait said, "I like your picture too."
"Jillian.what are you drawing?" Kait asked, sitting back and enjoying her spare time.
Jillian gave a shy smile, and brought the brush across the paper again.
"_Un portrait d'un très bel homme_" Jillian said in French, "A portrait of a very handsome man."
Kait leaned over to look at the picture Jillian was drawing and giggled.
"_Vous le trouvez attrayant?_" Kait inquired after viewing the picture of Mr. James, "You find him attractive?"
"_Oui,_" Jillian replied, then continued on in her heavily accented English, "Do you not?"
"Of course not. He's a teacher. And he is old." Kait said. And seems far too familiar, now that it's mentioned...
"You are just too young," Jillian sighed, sitting back and looking at her masterpiece.
"So they all say," Kait sighed in turn, for quite different reasons.
~*~
"Marie, she is too young!!!" Zidler exclaimed, "She cannot know. It is too dangerous!!!"
"She is nine years old in two days. Nine years, and she has seen neither her mother, nor her father."
"Christian does not know she exists, and Satine..." Zilder paused, and quieted his voice once he realized everyone in the house had stopped at the sheer volume of his voice, "And you know that Satine has fallen into a sleep that she cannot be waken from."
"A coma," Marie corrected.
"As I said...Kait wouldn't understand."
"Harold, do you see what she writes? Do you see what she draws? Do you hear what she sings? Kait was born ready to know her past, but conditions prevented it. Kait is a Bohemian in the true sense of the word...don't you see? The older that child gets, the less prepared for it she will be."
"Just one more year," Harold begged, "Give it one more year."
"That's what you said last year!!!" it was Marie's turn to yell, which was not an often occurrence, "You keep putting this off, when you know it must happen eventually. She will grow up! You cannot hide her from her past forever! We are old, Zidler! Eventually, her past will come around and slap her in the face, and I want to be here to tend her once it does." Marie fell silent.
"We are old," she said, this time her voice softer, "And I do not expect the others to care after Kait after we are gone. I don't want them to have to. We have all been through enough. This would be that ray of sunshine that us creatures of the underworld need in our lives. Kait is a miracle. Miracles should never go to waste."
Zidler had begun to pace around the hall, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. The servants stood in various locations, up on the stairs looking down, in mid-dusting stance of some of the statues they had about the place.
"I won't permit Kait going now," Harold said after a few more minutes of pacing, "But you may go to see Satine if you wish."
Marie gave Harold a look that could chill ice; then walked towards the staircase.
"Be back in time for the open house, Marie. I do not wish for the teachers to become curious as to Kait's family, and we most certainly don't want anyone to discover anything about Christian..."
"Who's Christian?"
Harold nearly jumped into the air at the innocent question. He turned to see Kait standing near the door, with David behind her, suddenly looking very nervous.
"Hello, my pet!" Harold greeted loudly, pretending as if he didn't hear, "How was school?"
"Grandpapa...who is Christian?"
~*~
Christian stared at the papers sitting on his desk. So many papers...so little time.such an urge to procrastinate...Christian finally gave into his compulsion to neglect the papers, and stood up, walking about the room. He knew he needed to work...but that's what his sleepless nights were for.
He walked out onto the stage and paced across the wooden floor, his shoes clanking on the surface. He glanced at his pocket watch. A quarter to five. Christian stopped pacing and looked out to the empty chairs of the auditorium.
If he looked hard enough, he could see the retreating form of a small, rat- toothed man...
"Mr. James? Are you still here?"
Christian leapt at the sound of Ms. Sullivan's voice, and decided to make himself scarce. He walked briskly back to his office, scooped up whatever papers were closest to him, and headed for the door at a pace close to a sprint.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. James!"
Christian suppressed a sigh, and turned to look at Ms. Sullivan.
"Oh, hello, Ms. Sullivan. I'm sorry, I am just leaving..."
"Oh, no problem at all, Mr. James, I was hoping to catch you before you did. The Principal is going to be out of town for a week or so, and he wanted you to cover."
"Me?" Christian asked, almost dropping his papers.
"Yes. You will still be teaching your regular classes."
"Alright." Christian started to open the door.
"He left instructions on his desk. Be there at seven o'clock sharp," Ms. Sullivan said.
"Right," Christian said, beginning to exit the room again.
"Christian, would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"
Christian froze.
"Uh...um..." Christian paused, and just laughed at himself, "Thank you for the offer, Ms. Sullivan, but...I'm...I'm not up for it tonight."
"Oh, alright," Ms. Sullivan said, obviously disappointed.
"But you might want to ask Mr. Galliger. He was going to go out tonight, and I think he's like some company..."
"Oh really?" Ms. Sullivan inquired, then, after pondering the thought for a moment, walked back towards the door to the hallway.
"It was nice talking to you, Mr. James. Be here bright and early tomorrow."
Christian quickly backed out of the room, and started towards his house, which was only a mile or so away. The weather was still very nice, though the cold of winter was approaching fast. Christian's mind wandered back to his encounter with Ms. Sullivan, and he stopped walking, staring straight ahead. Why had he not accepted the invitation? It was obvious that Ms. Sullivan liked him, and she was nice enough...he looked out at the mountains, and the sky, in which the sun was just beginning to make its decent.
He was still in love.
He tried to fool himself. For nearly nine years, he had been trying to trick himself into believing that he was over her. Over Satine. But it hadn't worked. It had come back and slapped him in the face. And it hurt. Christian continued walking, his stride much less confident that it had been before, he walked looking at the ground. He hated when this happened. It had happened a few years ago...something reminded him of Satine, and it did some horrible things to him. But not this time...he wouldn't start down that road again...that dark, dark road...
~*~
"So, Miss Lynn, how are you?" Susan McRoberts asked, looking at the red-haired angel. A good colour had returned to her skin, and she no longer looked so sickly.
Satine did not turn around, only kept staring out the window.
"Miss Lynn?" Susan called again.
Satine was jarred out of her trance, remembering that she had told them only her middle name...for safety precautions...
"Yes, Susan?" Satine inquired.
"How are you fairing today?"
"Quite well, and you?"
"The same," Susan sat down beside Satine, and looked out the window at the setting sun, "Except something is puzzling me. I just got a call a call from a woman, asking about a woman named Satine."
Satine stiffened, and hoped that her reaction wasn't too visible.
"She seemed very concerned. Marie Zidler, was her name, I believe. I wish I could so something to help her, but we have no one here named Satine."
Susan looked over to the red-haired woman, seeing if this news got a reaction from her. "Lynn" was only silent, staring out the window.
"Did this Marie woman say why she wished to know?"
Susan suppressed a smile at "Lynn" 's question.
"She wanted to come and visit."
Satine turned and looked at Susan, her eyes full of emotions, so many, Susan could not tell in the least, what was going on in that red-haired covered head. Some odd mix between severe sadness, loss, confusion, and pain.
"Why?" Satine asked softly, looking at Susan, her beautiful blue eyes full of pain and memory.
"She wants you to go home with her, Satine," Susan said, putting a hand on Satine's shoulder for reassurance, "She wants you to come home..." Marie walked into the room, and Satine looked over her shoulder to see what Susan was looking at.
"Marie?" Satine asked incredulously, it was as if she was merely having another one of her dreams, that someone just walked in the door to tell her... 'it's all right now...you can have your life back, Satine.you can have a normal family and a normal job...a normal life...'.
"Marie!" Satine exclaimed again, and sprang up from her chair, walking swiftly towards her, at least swiftly for her present condition.
"My dear," Marie said happily, though it was obvious she was under great pressure.
"It's been so long, Marie...too long..."
~*~
A/N: Whew. I tied up some ends, but I did leave you hanging, I know. I shall try to update as soon as I can, but I am still amazingly busy. I would drop some of my activities to pursue my writing, but I would be in danger of having friends and co-workers hunting me down and causing me bodily harm. Which would be bad for me. I'm sure some of you would find humor in it though...actually, I would find humor in it...t'were it no I being the one injured...getting a bit off topic...
Any how: I shall try to post more soon. All feedback, reviews, comments, questions....obscenities are much appreciated, and just may help me get the next chapter up sooner.
Slan agat!
-IrishRavenX
Another note: Soooooo much thanks to you, ObiMcGregorFan (I don't remember your real pen name, feel free to correct me. I could not have continued without the constant reminders, and many of the really good ideas. Yes, really, really good ideas. So I must give her much of the credit. Thank you thank you.
Feed back: Yes please!!!! I've only been able to get around to another chapter because I've had all you helping me along, and encouraging me!! A special thanks to: Ix Kara xI, Katie, BeetleBon99, Tani, and Lady Jade. I couldn't have done it without you. And a big ol' thanks to everyone else who has reviewed, and especially ObiMcGregorFan!!!!
Author's pathetic excuse: I'm sorry!!!! Don't hurt me!!!! I've been really really really really busy (and a bit lazy...a bit...) but either way, I've finally updated, and would appreciate it if I was not killed for the great delay. (Especially since I would like to finish this story, and being killed would be quite bad for that process.)
And without any further rambling...I give you...
Chapter VII
Kait finished the last brush stroke and stepped back to look at her artwork. The set of the play was finished down to the last detail, except for the buttons on the suit of the man in the sitar. And the faces. The set was elaborate, but the faces of the people were not clear. She had tried to the best of her ability, but she could not remember the faces. She remembered the eyes.the hair.the cruelty..the love. Nini, David.and a few of the others were in the pictures, as well as some of the others from the estate. She had seen it once in the "forbidden hallway", but Kait felt as though she had seen it previously, but now it seemed like only a dream.
With a sigh Kait put down her paintbrush, and looked at her dress. Using a paintbrush never seemed to do her much good, since the majority of it usually got all over her clothes and hands anyhow.
She walked over to the waterspout, and washed off her hands, and tried to rub some of the stains out of her dress. It didn't really matter. She had many dresses. Kait wondered why she had so much when others had so little; David said that it was because they were rich. But that the money they had was stained red with blood. She didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound at all good. The laughter of her peers brought Kait back to reality. Kait looked around the classroom, at all the other children laughing and talking, and having an overall good time. As usual. And she just sat in her little corner of the room and painted. But she did have people to talk to, they were just quieter than the others during class. Kait turned to look at Jillian and Desmon, who were silently painting their works of art.
Jillian was a girl, three years older than Kait, who had dark green eyes, and auburn hair. She was from Scotland, and her voice was heavily accented. She actually knew more Gaelic than she did English, and so, people wouldn't speak with her unless they had to. Jillian was a very interesting girl, who was fluent in five languages, and knew bits of at least five more.
Desmon was a short Argentinean lad, who was also quiet, but unusually smart for his age.
"I like your painting, Kait," Desmon said, looking at his friend's artwork, "It's very articulate. Eloquent."
Kait just laughed. He used large words on a regular basis, which sounded so odd coming from someone of his...height.
"Thank you Desmon," Kait said, "I like your picture too."
"Jillian.what are you drawing?" Kait asked, sitting back and enjoying her spare time.
Jillian gave a shy smile, and brought the brush across the paper again.
"_Un portrait d'un très bel homme_" Jillian said in French, "A portrait of a very handsome man."
Kait leaned over to look at the picture Jillian was drawing and giggled.
"_Vous le trouvez attrayant?_" Kait inquired after viewing the picture of Mr. James, "You find him attractive?"
"_Oui,_" Jillian replied, then continued on in her heavily accented English, "Do you not?"
"Of course not. He's a teacher. And he is old." Kait said. And seems far too familiar, now that it's mentioned...
"You are just too young," Jillian sighed, sitting back and looking at her masterpiece.
"So they all say," Kait sighed in turn, for quite different reasons.
~*~
"Marie, she is too young!!!" Zidler exclaimed, "She cannot know. It is too dangerous!!!"
"She is nine years old in two days. Nine years, and she has seen neither her mother, nor her father."
"Christian does not know she exists, and Satine..." Zilder paused, and quieted his voice once he realized everyone in the house had stopped at the sheer volume of his voice, "And you know that Satine has fallen into a sleep that she cannot be waken from."
"A coma," Marie corrected.
"As I said...Kait wouldn't understand."
"Harold, do you see what she writes? Do you see what she draws? Do you hear what she sings? Kait was born ready to know her past, but conditions prevented it. Kait is a Bohemian in the true sense of the word...don't you see? The older that child gets, the less prepared for it she will be."
"Just one more year," Harold begged, "Give it one more year."
"That's what you said last year!!!" it was Marie's turn to yell, which was not an often occurrence, "You keep putting this off, when you know it must happen eventually. She will grow up! You cannot hide her from her past forever! We are old, Zidler! Eventually, her past will come around and slap her in the face, and I want to be here to tend her once it does." Marie fell silent.
"We are old," she said, this time her voice softer, "And I do not expect the others to care after Kait after we are gone. I don't want them to have to. We have all been through enough. This would be that ray of sunshine that us creatures of the underworld need in our lives. Kait is a miracle. Miracles should never go to waste."
Zidler had begun to pace around the hall, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. The servants stood in various locations, up on the stairs looking down, in mid-dusting stance of some of the statues they had about the place.
"I won't permit Kait going now," Harold said after a few more minutes of pacing, "But you may go to see Satine if you wish."
Marie gave Harold a look that could chill ice; then walked towards the staircase.
"Be back in time for the open house, Marie. I do not wish for the teachers to become curious as to Kait's family, and we most certainly don't want anyone to discover anything about Christian..."
"Who's Christian?"
Harold nearly jumped into the air at the innocent question. He turned to see Kait standing near the door, with David behind her, suddenly looking very nervous.
"Hello, my pet!" Harold greeted loudly, pretending as if he didn't hear, "How was school?"
"Grandpapa...who is Christian?"
~*~
Christian stared at the papers sitting on his desk. So many papers...so little time.such an urge to procrastinate...Christian finally gave into his compulsion to neglect the papers, and stood up, walking about the room. He knew he needed to work...but that's what his sleepless nights were for.
He walked out onto the stage and paced across the wooden floor, his shoes clanking on the surface. He glanced at his pocket watch. A quarter to five. Christian stopped pacing and looked out to the empty chairs of the auditorium.
If he looked hard enough, he could see the retreating form of a small, rat- toothed man...
"Mr. James? Are you still here?"
Christian leapt at the sound of Ms. Sullivan's voice, and decided to make himself scarce. He walked briskly back to his office, scooped up whatever papers were closest to him, and headed for the door at a pace close to a sprint.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. James!"
Christian suppressed a sigh, and turned to look at Ms. Sullivan.
"Oh, hello, Ms. Sullivan. I'm sorry, I am just leaving..."
"Oh, no problem at all, Mr. James, I was hoping to catch you before you did. The Principal is going to be out of town for a week or so, and he wanted you to cover."
"Me?" Christian asked, almost dropping his papers.
"Yes. You will still be teaching your regular classes."
"Alright." Christian started to open the door.
"He left instructions on his desk. Be there at seven o'clock sharp," Ms. Sullivan said.
"Right," Christian said, beginning to exit the room again.
"Christian, would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"
Christian froze.
"Uh...um..." Christian paused, and just laughed at himself, "Thank you for the offer, Ms. Sullivan, but...I'm...I'm not up for it tonight."
"Oh, alright," Ms. Sullivan said, obviously disappointed.
"But you might want to ask Mr. Galliger. He was going to go out tonight, and I think he's like some company..."
"Oh really?" Ms. Sullivan inquired, then, after pondering the thought for a moment, walked back towards the door to the hallway.
"It was nice talking to you, Mr. James. Be here bright and early tomorrow."
Christian quickly backed out of the room, and started towards his house, which was only a mile or so away. The weather was still very nice, though the cold of winter was approaching fast. Christian's mind wandered back to his encounter with Ms. Sullivan, and he stopped walking, staring straight ahead. Why had he not accepted the invitation? It was obvious that Ms. Sullivan liked him, and she was nice enough...he looked out at the mountains, and the sky, in which the sun was just beginning to make its decent.
He was still in love.
He tried to fool himself. For nearly nine years, he had been trying to trick himself into believing that he was over her. Over Satine. But it hadn't worked. It had come back and slapped him in the face. And it hurt. Christian continued walking, his stride much less confident that it had been before, he walked looking at the ground. He hated when this happened. It had happened a few years ago...something reminded him of Satine, and it did some horrible things to him. But not this time...he wouldn't start down that road again...that dark, dark road...
~*~
"So, Miss Lynn, how are you?" Susan McRoberts asked, looking at the red-haired angel. A good colour had returned to her skin, and she no longer looked so sickly.
Satine did not turn around, only kept staring out the window.
"Miss Lynn?" Susan called again.
Satine was jarred out of her trance, remembering that she had told them only her middle name...for safety precautions...
"Yes, Susan?" Satine inquired.
"How are you fairing today?"
"Quite well, and you?"
"The same," Susan sat down beside Satine, and looked out the window at the setting sun, "Except something is puzzling me. I just got a call a call from a woman, asking about a woman named Satine."
Satine stiffened, and hoped that her reaction wasn't too visible.
"She seemed very concerned. Marie Zidler, was her name, I believe. I wish I could so something to help her, but we have no one here named Satine."
Susan looked over to the red-haired woman, seeing if this news got a reaction from her. "Lynn" was only silent, staring out the window.
"Did this Marie woman say why she wished to know?"
Susan suppressed a smile at "Lynn" 's question.
"She wanted to come and visit."
Satine turned and looked at Susan, her eyes full of emotions, so many, Susan could not tell in the least, what was going on in that red-haired covered head. Some odd mix between severe sadness, loss, confusion, and pain.
"Why?" Satine asked softly, looking at Susan, her beautiful blue eyes full of pain and memory.
"She wants you to go home with her, Satine," Susan said, putting a hand on Satine's shoulder for reassurance, "She wants you to come home..." Marie walked into the room, and Satine looked over her shoulder to see what Susan was looking at.
"Marie?" Satine asked incredulously, it was as if she was merely having another one of her dreams, that someone just walked in the door to tell her... 'it's all right now...you can have your life back, Satine.you can have a normal family and a normal job...a normal life...'.
"Marie!" Satine exclaimed again, and sprang up from her chair, walking swiftly towards her, at least swiftly for her present condition.
"My dear," Marie said happily, though it was obvious she was under great pressure.
"It's been so long, Marie...too long..."
~*~
A/N: Whew. I tied up some ends, but I did leave you hanging, I know. I shall try to update as soon as I can, but I am still amazingly busy. I would drop some of my activities to pursue my writing, but I would be in danger of having friends and co-workers hunting me down and causing me bodily harm. Which would be bad for me. I'm sure some of you would find humor in it though...actually, I would find humor in it...t'were it no I being the one injured...getting a bit off topic...
Any how: I shall try to post more soon. All feedback, reviews, comments, questions....obscenities are much appreciated, and just may help me get the next chapter up sooner.
Slan agat!
-IrishRavenX
