Dawn
By Monnie
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, nor do I own the song 'May It Be' by Enya. I wish I did.
Here's the epilogue as
requested. And even though I only got 19 of the 20 reviews for the last
chapter, I'm still inclined to post it, cause, well, I wrote it, and I don't
want to put good words to waste. Plus, I didn't say 19 was a bad number. In
fact, on a scale from one to ten, ten being the dumbest a person could look...
Review if it moves you. moves you Now review. Go.
I dedicate this chapter, this final chapter, to Ezika. My loving wife of a year and four months.
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Epilogue
May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home
Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now...
= =
"Could you get the bread from the oven, dear?" She pointed into the kitchen, a smile on her face.
"Sure." Her husband strode past her as she set her knitting next to her and tried to stand up. The smell of fresh rolls wafted into the family room, and Monica paused to breathe it in. With careful steps, she walked into the kitchen behind him and to the stove, ladling the soup from its pot and into their bowls. She swayed uneasily to the table and set them down in their places, running her fingers over the clean cloth napkins and across the wood-finished surface.
As Chandler brought their basket of bread over, and set it down, he looked up at her warmly. "You okay?" He asked, slipping his arms around her stomach, caressing it with his palms.
"I guess," she replied, "I just don't feel all that well."
"If you need anything, you know I'm right here." He whispered, dropping butterfly kisses on her neck. She nodded against him and tensed, putting her hands on her husband's.
"Do you feel that?" She asked, leaning back against him.
"Feel what?"
"She's awake."
He hugged her tighter, rubbing her stomach affectionately again. "So she is."
"Mommy!" Tiny footsteps padded clumsily down the stairs, and a little brown-haired boy bounded into the room.
"Michael, there you are – oof!" She staggered backwards when her son ran into her, and let out a little chuckle.
"Is dinner ready?" He chirped, knowing the answer.
"Yessir it is! Have a seat." She played, and leaned once more against Chandler's chest as he kissed her on the cheek and helped her to her seat.
They broke their bread together and sat to eat, conversation light and peaceful.
= =
When dinner was over and the dishes were cleared, they started outside.
"So, what was your favorite thing about today?" Monica asked her husband and son.
"Well, I –" Chandler began, but Michael interrupted him.
"I found a FROG today, Mommy!"
She gasped in amusement. "You DID?"
"Yeah! It was THIS BIG!" He held his arms across as far as they could reach, as he bounded out in front of her. Chandler took her hand and led her to the porch swing, where they sat side by side and rocked gently, admiring their son recall his eventful day with grandeur and excitement.
"And so I jumped by the creek and tried to reach into the water to get him and then he hopped away!"
"Oh no!" Monica giggled, one hand resting on her swollen belly, and the other squeezing her husband's thigh as he glanced at her lovingly. She felt him looking at her, her cheeks warming, but she kept her eyes on Michael. "So then what did you do?"
"Well, I – I chased it down the creek for a little while, and I almost fell in!" He sidestepped and waved his arms around, mimicking his near miss. "And then I sat really still, and I got down real low..." He demonstrated for them. "And I looked that little frog right in the eye and said, 'I'm gonna catch you.'"
"Uh-huh, and did you?"
"Well... no. But I tried and got really, really close!" He turned around and pointed to a damp brown spot on the side of his trousers. "And I got this mud patch on my britches an' all to prove it!"
"Michael Joseph!" Monica stood up too quickly, yanking a handkerchief from Chandler's pocket, and wet it on her tongue, turning her son's head to take the flecks of mud off his neck. "You are going to need a bath tonight, young man."
"Aww, but why?"
She let out a flabbergasted laugh. "Wha-why? Because you can't go to bed with mud on your neck and on your britches, that's why!" She rubbed his skin a little harder. "Besides, we're going up to your uncle Ross' tomorrow for the day, and you gotta look your best."
"Okay, okay!" He waved her away with his hand, and she took hold of it.
"Don't you do that." She playfully put his fingers in her mouth, and smiled up at him. Her lip then immediately curled, and she took them out.
"Eeyeugh!" She stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Didn't you wash up before dinner?"
He blushed. "Whoops."
"Ewwww." She nearly spat at the ground, and rolled her eyes, standing back up again. She glanced sideways at Chandler. "I'm gonna go get some flowers from the kitchen and uh – wash my mouth out."
She disappeared into the house without another word.
Chandler stood up and walked with Michael off the porch and out to the garden, where, in a far corner, stood three clean, white crosses.
"Michael, do you know what today is?"
"No, Daddy, what is it?"
"It's the anniversary of your mother's and my freedom."
"Freedom? Why, were you in jail?"
"Well, sort of." He sat on the earth beside his son, nearly looking through him. "You see, your mother and I were in a place where we had to work all day long, and we didn't get much food, and people weren't very nice to us. Except, I was supposed to be the person making other people work. But I didn't do my job very well. Your mother and I met one night while we were supposed to be doing other things."
Quietly, from the other end of the yard, Monica was approaching, a bundle of lilies in her arms. She heard Chandler talking to Michael, so she decided not to interrupt them, and listened intently from the edge of the garden.
Chandler continued. "And so, we started to see each other in secret, because we weren't supposed to be talking, we were supposed to be working, and that's when your mother and I started to fall in love."
Monica smiled warmly at this, and took two quiet steps forward.
"And when we were falling in love, a man who didn't want us to fall in love found out about it. And he tried to stop it. But you know what?"
"What?" Michael asked, leaning forward, completely intrigued.
"My friend, Joey," he pointed to the cross on the left, "the man staying in the same cabin as me, he pretended HE was the one who was in love with your mother, and he got punished instead of me."
Michael let out the perfect gasp. "Really?"
"Yep. And then something else happened. I had to go somewhere else, with a bunch of people, on this train to a better place. And my name was on the list of people who got to go, but your mommy's wasn't."
His eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"Your mommy's friend Phoebe," he pointed to the cross on the right, "her name was on the list, but she let your mommy pretend she was Phoebe, so that your mommy could come with me."
"Wow. That's so nice of her. What happened next?"
"Well, we got there, and that's where your mommy and your uncle Ross found each other again."
"Uncle Ross was there, too?" He pulled a face, and pointed to the middle cross. "Is this for him?"
"No, Michael," Monica interrupted, making them both turn their heads back to her, the same expression on their faces, "that cross is there for my best friend Rachel. We met in that place, and she helped me through almost as much as Phoebe did. I loved her very, very much."
"What happened to her?"
"She – she didn't make it out of the place. The same man who didn't want your father and I to be in love made sure that Rachel wasn't allowed to leave."
"He sounds like a mean old grump who doesn't want anyone to be happy."
"That's what we thought, too." Chandler agreed, putting his hand on Michael's shoulder.
"But we made it out, thanks to Joey and Phoebe's help and sacrifices, and that's why we celebrate today, the day we made it out of Auschwitz, that place where they kept us and made us work. That's why we put flowers out here on these crosses, so that we can let the world know that we have a promise within us for them. We promised them, and we promised each other, that we would be together forever, because we love each other so much, and because so many people believed in us enough to give up their freedom and their lives so we could be where we stand today."
"Here with me?"
"Here with you."
He looked once at his mother, and then at his father, and then down at what was in front of him. Monica passed the lilies to Chandler, who moved to lay them on the soil, but Michael took one from the bouquet as he did. With a look of determination, Michael set it on top himself.
"That one can be from me."
He glanced back up at his parents, who were now standing, holding hands and gazing at one another with tears in their eyes. And Monica looked down, her lids brimming, and reached one hand out to pull Michael to her. He gently clung to her, not understanding what his heart was telling him, but knowing that just standing where he was, was enough to soothe the ache of not knowing.
Weakly, Monica dabbed at her eyes, and tried to regain her composure. "Oh, Michael, it's time for you to head up to get washed up for bed, darling."
"What?" He looked up at her, his deep blue eyes confused.
"It's almost dark, and the bugs are coming out. You're not an easy one to give a bath to. Besides, we all have to get up very early tomorrow to visit Uncle Ross."
"What time?"
"About five o'clock. I want to make it early so we can have breakfast over there." Chandler slipped his arms around his wife again, unable to keep from touching their unborn child for long.
"Five o'clock?! But – but that's – that's before sunrise!"
"Michael," she admonished him in a motherly tone, "in this family, it's a blessing to see the dawn."
= =
May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be you journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun
Mornie utúlië
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië
A promise lives within you now.
= = = =
Fin. xx