Wandering Child

Prologue- Mourning and Celebration

Margaret Lawrence was in mourning. The Council's members that had gone with Rebecca had given up. They had waited two weeks, and still Rebecca had not returned.

The Council had repeatedly apologized, and Margaret had accepted their apology each time, but that didn't bring her daughter back. She had wanted to explain to Rebecca about where she had come form, but she suspected that Rebecca already knew that she had been adopted.

Margaret had tried to explain the situation to her husband when he returned form his meeting, but he was unwillingly to listen. He had the police searching all over town. Margaret knew it was useless. Rebecca was in the nineteenth century now. There was no way that she was coming home any time soon.

Margaret had been unwilling to have a memorial service for Rebecca, because she knew that Rebecca was still alive, just in another time period. But after a month of the police searching, her husband began to prepare for one without her consent. He was in mourning, too, but only because he believed Rebecca to be dead.

Before the service started, Margaret asked one of the members of the Council of Music, Joey, to say a little something about Rebecca and then sing a song. Joey had readily agreed. She had apparently become good friends with Rebecca during their trip to Paris, and during the short time that they were in Paris together.

As Joey came up to the podium in the small church that friends and family had gathered in, the room grew deathly still. Music began to play. Joey's petite form barely reached the top of the microphone, so she removed it and stepped away from it. Then she began to sing.

"A little girl,

A little small for her age,

A little too slow for the field day race.

Mama's waiting at the finish line

And wipes the teardrops form her eyes.

She said, "Did just fine, Honey, that's okay.

Sometimes life's just that way.

You're gonna lose the race from time to time

But you'll always cross the line."

You can't lose me,

If you're alive.

I am here and I will always be

Oh, yeah, just a wish away.

Wherever you go,

No matter how far.

My love is where you are.

You won't be lost if you believe.

Oh, you can't lose me.

Mama used to say,

Girl it won't be long

'Til it's time to go out on your own.

Taste your dreams; find your place in life.

I know you'll do just fine.

When that day finally came,

And the things she needed to, but could not say,

So I whispered something

As I wiped the tears from Mama's eyes,

You can't lose me,

If you're alive.

I am here and I will always be

Oh, yeah, just a wish away.

Wherever I go,

No matter how far.

My love is where you are.

You won't be lost if you believe.

Oh, you can't lose me.

Wherever you go,

Hey, no matter how far,

My love is where you are.

You won't be lost if you believe.

No, you can't lose me.

Hey-ay, you can't lose me.

Oh.

Wherever you go, hey

No matter how far,

My love is where you are.

You can't lose me.

Oh, oh

You can't lose me.

Hey, you can't lose me."

As the song ended, Margaret wiped her eyes. Her little girl was gone, and there wasn't any way to get her back. It had been that time when Rebecca would have gone out on her own. Margaret rested her head on her husband's shoulder. She sighed and closed her eyes. She wished that Rebecca was still with her. But when she opened her eyes, the pastor was concluding the ceremony, and Rebecca still wasn't there.

-

Joey was happy and sad at the same time. She was happy because, today, she was getting married. In all her Twenty-one years, she had never thought it possible. But she was sad because, although she was going to marry the love of her life, Rebecca wasn't there to see it happen.

Joey knew that Rebecca wasn't coming back. If she was, she would have returned already. Joey had only known Rebecca for a short time, but she had liked her almost instantly. She had been a kind and thoughtful person, with a very interesting personality. Joey was sure that she would have had a hard time predicting what Rebecca would do next.

Joey smoothed out her wedding gown. Although her face had been deformed at birth, the rest of her was normal. She had a normal female figure, and she liked the way the dress accentuated certain aspects of her figure in just the right way.

For her wedding, Joey had had a white mask made with white sequins dotting the edges. Her gown was the traditional white, and bared her shoulders. It flowed out around her like an old-fashioned ball gown, and the long train that trailed behind her was going to be carried by a little girl named Penelope, who was David's little cousin. His aunt and uncle had found out what kind of person he had grown into when he had sent them an invitation, and they had apologized for treating him the way they had.

Penelope was a sweet thing with beautiful brown curls trailing down her back and rosy cheeks. She still had a little bit of baby fat on her and it made her look even cuter in the sunflower-yellow dress that she wore. She also had big brown eyes that widened in amazement when she saw Joey in her wedding dress.

"Are you an angel?" She had asked incredulously. Joey had smiled, and almost gave in to tears. No one had ever called her an angel. She smiled ironically. Trust a four-year-old to notice someone's true beauty, she thought.

Now, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she thought that she had actually managed to look pretty.

It was time for her father to walk her down the aisle. Joey had contacted her father once she and David had started preparations for the wedding. Her father had never been supportive of her, but when she told him she was getting married, he bawled like a baby, saying how he was so sorry that he had treated her so cruelly. His reasoning for it was that he hadn't known how to react when he found out about her deformity. He was truly sorry, and Joey had readily accepted his apology, and asked him to come.

Now, as he entered and saw her, she could tell that he truly was repentant of his misdeeds. He extended his arm and Joey took it. Her father led her out of the dressing room, and to the doors of the sanctuary.

They paused outside the doors, and Joey looked behind her shoulder briefly to make sure that Penelope was holding her train. Then she lifted her veil over her face, and allowed her father to walk her down the aisle, into the arms of her beloved.

With a smile on her face, she said her vows, slipped the ring on David's finger, and kissed her new husband. Her heart soared with joy at the thought of the many years they would have together. As she broke the kiss to look into his eyes, she saw that David was thinking the exact same thing.

The newlyweds smiled broadly at each other, and Joey threw her bouquet into the crowd of waiting women. Penelope caught it, and looked over at a little boy standing three feet away. Joey laughed as the boy ran, and Penelope gave chase.

Someday, Joey and David would have kids of their own, and when that day came, She would welcome it with open arms. I there was one thing she had learned from Rebecca. It was that love will always find a way into your life, no matter what.

A/N: Well, that's the last chapter. I never thought that I would actually finish a story. But don't fret; a sequel is coming soon, although I haven't a clue what to call it. Here's a sneak preview:

I watched as the people of Paris went about their daily lives, oblivious to everyone's problems but their own. I picked up a fruit and gently felt the skin around it to see if it was fresh.

"I assure you, Mademoiselle, these are the finest and freshest fruits in all of Paris." The man behind the stall said.

"You've said that before, Philippe, and it hasn't always been true." I replied with a smile.

The man, Philippe, put his hand to his heart as though he were injured. "Ah!" He said in mock pain. "You have insulted my person, Mademoiselle. I am injured." He pretended to swoon and fall down.

I put the fruit in my basket, satisfied that it was good enough, and leaned over the table of the stall. "Philippe," I said. "If you want to make any money, you're going to have to stand up and prevent little people from stealing all your fruit." At that, Philippe jumped up. But as he did, he banged his head on the roof of his stall.

He rubbed his head and muttered a few curses in French. I handed him the money and tried to hide my smile.

"Philippe, you should be an entertainer." I said.

"You think so?" He asked. I nodded. "Ah," He said. "I would look good in tights, non?"

"Non." I replied to him, shaking my head at his silly antics. "I must be going now," I said to him. "Madame Rouleau will be needing these fruits for her party tomorrow."

"Is that tomorrow?" He asked as I began to walk away. "Well, then I better get my wife to fix my old suit right away." I smiled and waved. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle Rebecca!" He called, and I pushed through the growing crowd.

-

Erik was watching her. He always watched her. He made sure she stayed out of trouble, and that trouble stayed away from her. He made sure that she didn't get into fights, and that the thugs that liked to lurk in alleys always stayed in the alleys whenever she walked by. He had made it his job to watch over her.

Rebecca was from the future; she didn't know what Paris was like in this century; what dangers lurked around every corner. Of course, Erik was sure that the twenty-first century had it's own dangers, but he was also sure that Rebecca wasn't prepared for the dangers that the nineteenth century held. In the nineteenth century, women were not respected, and men were held high above them. So if something were to happen to Rebecca, the authorities wouldn't do anything to fix it.

Erik watched as Rebecca finished her shopping and began the trek home. Rebecca now worked for a splendidly rich couple that had just happened to need a maid and cook's helper when she came calling.

Actually, after Rebecca's first day of job-searching had been fruitless, Erik had gone to one of the noble's homes and...asked the maid/cook's helper to quit her job. Actually, he hadn't asked. He had pretended to be a ghost (knowing that the woman happened to be very superstitious) and had told her that if she didn't quit her job, she would find bad luck following her for the rest of her life. The woman had quit first thing the next morning.

Erik chuckled at the memory of the overweight woman shivering in terror in the middle of the might.

Rebecca reached her patrons' house in good time, and entered through the kitchen door. He heard her preparing some things and chatting and laughing animatedly with the cook, who Erik didn't trust, and who happened to be male as well as handsome.

Erik had promised himself that he wouldn't interfere with Rebecca's life unless there was danger. But it was difficult for him to not run into the kitchen and strangle the man with his lasso.

Erik sighed and admonished himself. He was supposed to be turning over a new leaf, but he simply couldn't get rid of the idea that strangling annoying people with his lasso would be so much fun. Of course, he would never actually do such a thing on purpose. Unless, of course, they were a threat to Rebecca in some way. Now all he had to do was figure out some way that the cook was a threat to Rebecca's safety.

Erik sighed again for the umpteenth time and moved away from the window. He returned to his home under the Opera Populaire and tried composing. But no matter how he tried to push them away, thoughts of Rebecca, laughing at whatever it was that the cook said, kept coming back to him.

A/N: To find out more, you have to wait for the next story in the series. (And if you have a suggestion of a name for it, I would be more than willing to hear it.)