Somewhere in the thirty odd seconds between Ami lifting her pail, and the dirty water actually cascading over his sandy locks, Marshall realized his inconsiderate mistake. The stable hand had unwittingly tracked dozens of muddy footprints all over the kitchen floor. Really, how could Marshall have done something like that? Back home, his mother had warned him repeatedly to wipe his feet before entering the house. That was a lesson that should have been permanently burnt into his memory, yet somehow Marshall had forgotten. By the looks of it, Ami was nearly finished with her chore, before he created such a muddy mess. It was no wonder Ami had acted out in such a manner! The poor girl was completely within her rights. Sighing to himself in shame, Marshall picked up Ami's wooden bucket, and lazily walked over to the kitchen pump, filling it to the brim with fresh water. If there was one thing Marshall learned from his late father, it was: a man must fix his own mistakes. Taking the scrub brush in his large, calloused hands, Marshall had to admit that he had never scrubbed a floor before in his life. After all, such a thing was a woman's work! Still, there was a fist time for everything, and he did need to redeem himself. So, with a final sigh, Marshall lowered himself on his hands and knees, and began to scrub.

Later that evening, Ami's temperament appeared to improve greatly after her discovery of Marshall's housework abilities. Marshall had cleaned himself up from Ami's watery assault, and following dinner with the Dubois', Ami having once again warmed to the stable hand, had suggested they begin their French lessons. So, Marshall currently sat at a table in the parlor with Ami sitting near enough to him that their shoulders brushed. Together, their heads were bent over some old school books, that were used to teach young children. And though the two youths were only studying, they were not alone in the parlor. Of course not! Monsieur Dubois had settled in the parlor, rather comfortably in his favorite chair, with his evening newspaper, so that he might keep this little study session under a watchful eye.

They had already covered the French alphabet, which Marshall noted was not too unlike his native English letter system. Needless to say, that lesson was a short one. Marshall was a foreigner in this land, but he was far from an idiot. Now, Ami had upgraded this private lesson, and had moved on to counting in French.

"Un, deux, trois," Ami counted, "répéter, repeat."

"Un.. deux.. trois," Marshall mimicked his tutor the best he could, although Ami giggled, causing the boy to think that he had gotten the accent completely wrong.

"We need to work on you're accent, Monsieur," Ami laughed again.

At this, Marshall blushed, and lowered his eyes to the book in shame. If this was an exercise that children could complete with ease, what did that say about Marshall... He was struggling!

"Ne vous inquiétez pas, Don't worry," Ami tried to comfort him, "you'll get it soon enough. Here."

Ami stopped, and took out a sheet of paper, scribbling down something in French, before handing the parchment over to Marshall. The Stable hand reached for the paper, and began to read through the list Ami had created for him. Marshall couldn't help but feel a little pride swell up inside him, when he realized that he already knew some of the words Ami had penned down. His tutor had written down the French alphabet, and the numbers he had just learned. Ami had also listed some conversational words for him.

Marshall read:

Bonjour.

He knew that one! It meant, hello, or good day.

Au revoir.

Marshall understood that word, as well. Au revoir translated to good bye!

Oui.

Yes, oui, meant yes!

Non.

Non? That was too easy! Non meant no. It was very similar to English, which was why Marshall had no trouble remembering that.

S'il vous plaît.

Marshall frowned at that word. It sounded familiar to him, but the young man simply couldn't remember what it meant at the moment. S'il vous plaît? Oh, wait a minute...

The stable hand's train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a gruff, irritated sound that came from Monsieur Dubois' throat.

"It is getting late Ami," her father began, setting down his periodical, "shouldn't you be heading up to bed at this hour?"

"Oui, Papa," Ami smiled shyly, which quite frankly, astounded Marshall.

Ami was a difficult person to read. One minute she might not speak a word, but simply stare at him in a quirky manner, while another minute she'd engage in a heated altercation with a villager, like Pierre Boulanger, or she may be inclined to dump a bucket of soiled water onto the head of an unsuspecting man, and now, here she was acting shy around her father! It seemed that there were never ending sides of Ami's personality. What an odd girl! Still, Marshall liked her. Ami made for quite the interesting friend, indeed.

Marshall watched as the girl rose, serenely, to kiss her waiting father goodnight, upon his cheek. When she turned to leave the parlor, however, Marshall called out to her.

"Ami, wait."

"Oui, Marshall?" the teen asked in a sing-song voice.

"Thank you," Marshall began, "...for all your help."

Ami smiled knowingly at him, "Merci, En Français, we say, Merci."

Merci! Marshall slapped himself on the forehead. He knew that one! Really, Marshall was going to have to continue practicing until French became second nature to him.

"Merci," he corrected himself.

Ami winked at him, "Bonne nuit, Marshall, Bonne Nuit, Papa."

"Bonne nuit," Marshall repeated. The stable boy thought it meant, goodnight, although he couldn't be positive.

With that, Ami was gone, and Marshall was left alone in the parlor with his landlord, who was very protective of his only daughter. At the moment, Monsieur Dubois was staring quizzically at Marshall.

"Sir?" Marshall asked, slightly nervous.

"My daughter has seemed to take quite the interest in you, Monsieur."

"She's just friendly, I suppose," the young man answered, "and Ami... she is a very good teacher."

"So then, you view Ami as a teacher?"

"Oui," Marshall thought it a good time to practice his French vocabulary, "Oui, and also as a friend."

Monsieur Dubois nodded at Marshall's words, placed his newspaper on a nearby table, and stood, "I like you, Monsieur. I would hate to see that change."

Before Marshall even had time to digest his landlord's words, or were they more like a threat? In any case, before the boy even had time to contemplate what Monsieur Dubois meant by that, the man had already exited the parlor.

Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah

It's Semi late, so I won't say much. I'll just let you know that the chapter Vis-à-Vis, is named after my college French text book. I thought it was appropriate, because Ami was teaching Marshall French from an old school book! But... it just may have a hidden meaning too! Can you tell me what it means?

A, B, C, D, E, F, G...

xJadeRainx