Author's Mindless Scribbles:

About the reviews: wow. I mean... really wow. The reviews- incredibly inspirational. It's a great thing to have such complements actually directed toward me. You know, it took me a while, but now I can sort of tell that my strong point in writing is probably description. It's not definite, now... but it's probable. And I'm just gonna take that as a good thing because well... that's basically what writing is, isn't it? Description. Huh. ::reflects:: That's just interesting...

About the story: I've only changed one thing about the movie, people. I just made it so that Roux didn't go back to Vianne. Instead, he just kept wandering. Easy enough? Alright then.

Chapter 3

The music has ceased for the moment, but the chatter of the party still lingered – if not a little softer. The scene was much like that of some old Cuban bar or club. But that wasn't the scene at all. It was breakfast time on the top deck of the gypsy Bateau and the whole Family had gathered there for the morning feast while they sat, anchored to the bank of the same French river as before. Breadsticks, crabs, bass, carp, pike, soup, pasta, chicken, duck, potatoes and pork; anything you could have thought of at the time was sitting on those three long tables. The mood was hearty and sweet and the circles of heavy-garmented folk around the tables were laughing and talking about the night before.

It wasn't often that the Family of this individual Bateau had an opportunity such as this: where they could all eat and talk without the slightest worry or care. It was thanks to a rather plentiful trade the week before, that the Family was in such good spirits now. Six days ago, the Bateau had stopped at a large town and a few men had gone to try and trade for supplies. To the intense surprise of the rest of the Family, upon the men's return, they brought news of a great prize. So great, that they needed the rest of the men to come back with them to carry all the new cargo. It took the Bateau's twenty men three whole journeys to and from the town, to bring everything aboard. The children had squealed, the women had nearly fainted, and the men were laughing their heads off. Along with the enormous amount of food listed above, the men had brought back new clothes, four delicate chairs, three sets of china - and one grand piano. One of the most plentiful -or more likely- the most plentiful trade they had ever gotten into, there was more than enough reason for an extended celebration.

Of course, somewhere along the line of all these events the women and children had asked the inevitable question of what the men had traded in return for their treasures. It was plainly impossible for the men to have gotten so much for free. And so they had asked, and the men had answered. Juan, the leader of the trading company, had replied with one simple, yet believable sentence: "We offered what we had and they accepted." At least, these words were believable coming from Jacque. The man was tall, lank, and dominating. He was without question, the leader of the Family – not just the trading company. His requests went without query, and he spoke them in few words. No one argued with him when he shared this story, and instantly accepted it.

Only Roslin, the little eight-year-old girl from the party, had had any doubt as to Juan's account.

"He's lying," she had simply said.

But even her doubts had been crushed in the end; one couldn't help but follow along when your Family was setting the example. And with both her father and Roux accepting Juan's story openly (at least on the outside), she could do nothing but believe him too. And so it was that the suspicions were dismissed.

Now, on the sixth day since the great trade, they Family was still in extremely high spirits that refused to let up. No matter how many snags they hit in the river or lines broke in the wind- their attitude was unwavering.

The next stop on their list was Lyon, another large French town. This was close to Vienne, but too far away to actually visit. One crew member in particular was actually rather relieved that they had not ventured over the boundaries of Vienne. But alas, he wouldn't say why, let alone voice this opinion to the Family. Instead, the man kept his feeling secret and hidden so as not to draw back painful memories. He couldn't let that happen under any costs- and it wouldn't.

"It's still so hard to believe," spoke up one woman next to Roux as they all sat around the three tables.

"What's so hard to believe?" Another woman asked. She leaned across the table and helped herself to some cailles et poivre.

"All this!" The first woman exclaimed. She slammed the table with her fist and laughed. "I'm incredible!"

"Sincerely," said Roux, "In'it a surprise that we didn't have things thrown at us like last time?"

"Quite," said the second woman, who quickly took a bite of her cailles to hide the blush that had covered her face at Roux's words. Roux however, tried not to notice her feminine mannerisms – the stares and giggles woman often made around him caused a lot of uneasiness for his part.

"You're completely right," said the first woman with a laugh. "I remember that day. All the women came out throwing dishes!"

An older man nearby huffed loudly as he helped himself to a plate of scrabbled eggs. "If you're going to throw dishes as people, you'd better not throw the good china – that's what I say. Those lunatics were hurling Polish Willowware for pete's sake..."

The Family was still enjoying their grand celebration, and the Bateau was busy tugging its smaller companions gently down the river, that something quite interesting happened.

"Roux," said a voice from behind him.

The guitarist turned. He was more than a little surprised to see Juan standing there and not at his usual place at the head of the table. Roux's eyes flicked over the rest of his kin before answering.

"Aye," he said simply.

"I need to talk to you."

Once again, Roux made a quick scan of the tables, perhaps looking for spectators. "Now? I don' know... can't it wait until after breakfast? I'm a wee bit hungry - "

Juan laughed kindly. "I'm afraid not, I won't have the time later, savvy?" He started to walk away, not even bothering to gesture Roux's following.

Roux scoffed. Savvy? Juan wasn't meant to use that word, that was Roux's word. Big boss Juan and his big ego. Roux wasn't the sort of man you ordered around unless it was by somebody extremely bossy... like... Roslin...

There was a loud clang of silverware and a long screech of metal on wood as Roux backed out his chair and left the table. It was a little irritating that Juan was basically the Family's ruler. That meant that everyone had to follow his requests, which was a total bollocks rule. How did that man ever come by such power?

This was the thought that Roux had in mind as he slouched his way over to the other side of the Bateau, where he'd seen Juan disappear. No one was in view from over here apart from two older men leaning over the railings, minding they're own business. Roux turned when a sharp whistle blew from behind him.

"What you doing in the shadows?" Roux asked suspiciously when he twisted around and saw Juan standing there.

"I've got something to show ya," he replied.

Juan's expression was one of absolute blankness. Roux didn't like it.

"What is it?" He said.

Juan gave Roux a charming grin, and then turned his attention to something in his right hand. Roux's raised an eyebrow and stared. In Juan's grasp he held a brown bag of a fair size. And from this, moments later, Juan withdrew a pair of black rubber boots with a metal buckle at the top. They were sturdy and shiny and black, and had an air of fanciness about them.

"Nice boots," the guitarist said matter-of-factly.

But Juan was grinning once again. "They're yours."

Almost stupidly, Roux made his brows meet and looked downcast at his feet, then back up at Juan. "They don't look like mine."

"I'm giving them to you, ami."

"Um..."

Then without warning a sudden wave of memory passed through Roux and he was at a total loss for words. Fourteen months ago on a warm day in the French countryside, a wonderful fixation blew through Roux's life. He and the Family had been passing through a quiet little town where a sly wind seemed to blow in from the north. It had seemed like any other town, yes, if not a little bit strict. Roux hadn't seen it coming at the time, but things happened in that town that would change his life, and make him rethink his way of living. He met an angel, Vianne by name, who stole Roux's heart for the first time in his life.

It was in this town, at this time, when he met this woman, that Roux bought his pair of boots; the same pair of boots that he wore now. They were broken in and of a grayish-brown color that matched the leather laces that crisscrossed in front of them. Roux wore these boots each and every day he was with Vianne (apart from that one night at Madame Voizin's birthday party) and that was the reason he kept them so sentimentally now.

"Well aren't you going to say anything?" Juan asked suddenly.

"I'm sorry? Oh," Roux was brought back to the present. His eyes glanced at the boots in Juan's hands again.

"You could say thank you," Juan mocked. He pushed the boots into Roux's hands.

"Hmmm...," said Roux. "I don't think I can take these, mate."

"Why not? They're a gift, you can take them."

"No," said Roux, more cogently this time. He placed the boot back into Juan's hands. "I can't. Thanks though."

And before Juan could protest, Roux was gone around the side of the Bateau. He didn't go back to the tables though, but instead chose to climb over the Bateau's low, wooden side and into his own boat.

He loved this place, possibly more because of one person. It was the same boat that he and Vianne had spoken in the night of the fire a year ago. Well, they might have done a little more than spoken but – the intimacy of the night is what counted. Roux's heart dropped every time he entered his boat and Vianne was not there. That fateful night the Family's old Bateau had burned down in that little town but at least they'd had the power to replace it. Roux could never replace what he'd lost in that wretch of a town. It was this thought that let Roux drift from conscious to unconscious. That Vianne couldn't be replaced, and what a titanic mistake he had made by turning her away.