Everywhere Father looked, children were hectically running around. A little boy almost knocked him over on his way to the improvised stage. The noise was deafening. Father hadn't seen this much excitement since the children had performed Chopin two years ago.
"Father," Mary welcomed him.
As usual she carried a calm and warm expression.
"Have you come to watch the rehearsal?"
"That was the plan," Father answered, "but I'm beginning to regret it."
A vague smile appeared on his bearded face.
"How is it going?"
Mary pulled up her eyebrows.
"It needs some work, but the children will get there. Their motivation is admirable."
"Yes," Father agreed, watching a little girl reciting from a paper she held in her hand. "I can see that."
"I was actually hoping to fit most of the costumes today," Mary continued, "but I can't seem to find our Phantom of the Opera."
Out of nowhere Mouse popped up.
"Dylan's missing," he merrily chipped in.
"I have Christine's gown here too," Mary thought aloud.
Mouse shrugged.
"Annie's missing too."
Mary looked around.
"Where's Jamie?"
"Missing," Mouse answered.
He widened his eyes and produced a sheepish smile. His hands flew up.
"Dylan, Annie, Jamie ... poof!"
"I can't think where they might have wondered off to," Mary pondered. "They're usually very responsible."
Father clasped his fingers around the knob of his walking stick.
"They are," he agreed, "so much even that we sometimes forget that they are also young."
"I remember what that is like," Vincent's voice reverberated through the cave.
Father turned to face him and smiled.
"Heavens yes," he agreed. "You and Devin had a tendency to disappear at the oddest times."
"I could fit the costumes tomorrow," Mary mused, "just as long as they are ready by Saturday."
One of the children almost pushed over a large chandelier.
Father wanted to call out to them to be more careful, but suddenly he was overpowered by a sharp pain in his chest. It felt like someone had cut his windpipe. His mouth flew open and he grasped at his chest.
"Father?" he heard Vincent say. "Are you alright?"
His cane slipped away. Every muscle in his body cramped up. Just before he fell, Vincent's clawed fingers folded around his shoulders.