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Chapter 5: Things to Learn

2 years later

Jacqueline rushed through the street searching through the bustle of people going about their business.

"GRANDPA?"

She called as she checked different stalls and stores for her grandfather. Mama had asked grandpa to take her on a walk. The real reason for which was so that the six year old could keep an eye on him and not the other way around, a fact that had not been lost on the little girl. However, no sooner had they entered the street then the old man had disappeared. Now his granddaughter ran frantically searching for the man she was supposed to watch and was too young to be expected to do so.

Where did he go?

It seemed to Jacqueline that her grandfather got confused more and more easily. More often than not he would call her Belle (which was mama's name), and whenever she attempted to correct him he would get very fidgety and embarrassed to the point where mama had told her not to correct him anymore.

"GRANDPA?"

Belle's daughter was a very observant little girl and she knew that something wasn't right with her beloved grandfather and had showed surprising care for him, becoming his little shadow and would-be protector. It was surprising to all those around that the little girl with the shortest fuse in history could have such patience for a senile old man.

But Jacqueline was nothing if not loyal. Maurice had freely shown her the affection that she so longed for from her own father, but so rarely (if ever) received, and as much as the child adored her mother, Belle was so busy taking care of her ever expanding brood and temperamental husband that she just couldn't spare all the time she wished to spend with her sole daughter. So a special bond had formed between the unlikely pair. One that was, perhaps, more surprising than it would have been if those around had really observed the situation.

"GRANDPA!"

Finally, she spotted a face that might be helpful. Skidding to a stop in front of a rather curvaceous woman with reddish hair, Jacqueline almost knocked the woman over, which would have been a sight worth seeing if she hadn't been in such a hurry.

"Madame d'Aboville! Have you seen my grandpa?"

Madeleine looked down at the little girl and jumped a bit at the sight of the large violet eyes. Most people found them unnerving. Madeleine couldn't explain it. After all, they were just the eyes of a little girl, yet they weren't. An involuntary shiver went up her spine. She always got the feeling that if she stared to long into those twin pools of purple then the girl would have been able to see into her very soul.

Shaking off her superstitions, she smiled at her friend's daughter. Having completely missed the child's question, she began relating the latest news to the six year old who had no understanding and couldn't have cared less.

"Why Jacqueline, Bonjour, is your mother around?"

Before the girl had a chance to respond she was cut off by the latest stream of gossip that Madame d'Aboville had gleaned. Jacqueline bit her tongue to keep from interrupting. She didn't have time for this stupid woman. She had to find grandpa!

"Did you hear my dear about the happenings in Paris?"

Jacqueline had the decency to shake her head. If Madeleine had paused for a moment she would have realized that most likely no six year old knew the happenings of Paris, but she was too far gone in the story to take that minor fact into account.

"Oh it is just horrible my dear, simply horrible, they have beheaded the king! Right in the streets! They say that it ran red with his blood!"

Jacqueline cringed at the sight her well-developed imagination created. But she quickly shook the image away. For, as interesting as that was, she still needed to focus on the problem at hand.

"Madame I…"

"Why when I heard I was so ill my darling Charles had to call for the physician."

Jacqueline returned that information with a blank stare. A dead king swimming in blood was much more interesting than her mama's friend's imagined illnesses. Trying to stay polite, she tried once again to ask her question.

"Madame have you seen…"

"Oh but not to worry about us, no, no, no. I hear the prince is amassing troops to guard our boarders from the revolutionaries."

The little girl curled her fists in frustration at being cut off yet again! She looked through a red haze as she tried to control her temper, but it was extremely difficult. This woman was no help at all, and she had to find grandpa! But she just couldn't run off because that would be rude.

Humph, she thought. Being polite was a complete waste of time!

"After all we have always governed ourselves, and being on the very edge of the kingdom they shouldn't trouble themselves with our little principality. Oh what I wouldn't give to see that handsome man preparing for battle. Yes 1793, this won't be a year soon forgotten. Mark my words," said Madeleine as she fanned herself.

What little patience Jacqueline possessed had run out, and she could taste blood from biting her tongue so hard.

"OH JUST FORGET IT!" She yelled, as she marched away from the useless older woman, a scowl that could turn milk on her face, showing resentment over that complete waste of time.

Madeleine stared after her in complete shock at her ill-mannered behavior.

Picking up her pace, Jacqueline continued her search.

At last, she spotted him standing in the middle of the street looking around with a frightened expression on his face, unable to recognize his surroundings.

"Grandpa!" He didn't respond to her so she pulled on his sleeve. Looking down at her there was no recognition in his face.

"Who are you?"

"…What?"

"Have you seen my daughter? I need to find her."

Jacqueline's heart sunk. It was one thing to be mistaken for mama but for him to forget her entirely was the most painful thing she had ever experienced in her young life. Holding back her tears she smiled as sweetly as she could.

"Yes I have, she's this way."

Taking him by the hand, she led him through the crowd.

"I don't know where she got to. She's about your age, and I have to find her. Her mother will be so worried."

Jacqueline looked straight ahead, not betraying the horrible feelings of loneliness that increased with each step. She felt as if she had just lost her best friend, and the worst part was he didn't even remember her.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream resonated through the village causing them to whip around in the direction of the sound. Tightening her grip on Maurice's hand, Jacqueline watched in terror as a large black stallion bucked wildly through the street knocking over carts and jerking about as if possessed by a demon.

Jacqueline's blood ran cold as she saw a young girl clutching to the back of the horse for dear life. Her cries for help echoing in her ears.

As the enormous beast kicked and beat the air with its powerful hooves its captive grasped at the main as she was thrown into the air again and again. Each time landing harder against the animals back then before, throwing her blond hair across her face.

She watched horrified as the horse threw the terrified rider once again into the air, sending her higher than ever before. This time her fingers lost their grip on the animal's mane. Frantically she clawed the air trying to regain her grasp, to no avail.

Landing with frightening force on the cobblestones below the poor girl was quickly trampled by the flashing hooves of the still crazed beast.

Jacqueline could hear her howls of pain as the girl's body broke under the brute force. Men were rushing about trying to contain the horse but she could still see her being torn apart through their many pairs of legs.

A rough hand spun Jacqueline around and she stared at a giant of a man. It was her father. His stern face watched the massacre before turning towards her. His hard blue eyes looked almost through her sending a shiver up her spine.

"Girl get your grandfather and go home!"

He stepped away and Jacqueline saw the sun gleaming off the rifle in his hand. She knew she should obey but her feet were frozen to the ground in terror.

"NOW!" he barked back at her and Jacqueline sprang into action.

Tugging at a now petrified Maurice she managed to coax him into running. As the two fled Jacqueline heard the sound of two gun shots behind them. Picking up the pace she pulled her grandfather all the way back to the house.

Pulling him threw the doorway with all her might she slammed the door closed. And then stood in front of it as if to barricade against attack.

"Jacqueline what's wrong...Papa!"

Maurice looked around the cottage wringing his hands, unable to articulate so deep was his shock at what they had just witnessed. Belle gently guided him to a chair and placed one of his small inventions in his hands. Lately Maurice had taken to dismantling and rebuilding the same object over and over again. He would sit like that for hours at a time only being drawn away if someone broke his routine.

The old man's shaking hands began to still as he slipped into the mindless task. Belle looked sadly away and returned her attentions to her daughter who still braced the door as if the devil himself was coming for her.

"Jacqueline what's wrong?"

The little girl was still to in shock to answer. Belle was concerned but decided that probing her would not be the best strategy. Instead she opted for distraction.

"Jacqueline go get little Gaston. I have something for the two of you."

Moving slowly as if waking from a bad dream she made her way to the back of the house in search of her brother. Upon finding him the two returned inside to see what their mother had planned.

Belle had them sit at the table as she retrieved a blue book from the mantle. The children's curiosity piqued immediately. That was mama's story book.

Often times during the evenings she would read to them from the pages, bringing magical places and people to life. Even papa couldn't escape its magic grasp. Gaston would pretend not to listen while his wife read but he could never fully escape the wonderful world her words created.

"Are you going to read us a story?" asked little Gaston

"No my darling, I am going to teach you to read."

The two children looked at each other in uncertainty. They loved having mama read to them but that was because apart of them believed she was the creator of those wonderful stories. To them the book was just a pointless prop. And neither found the idea of sitting still for lessons an appealing idea.

"But we must be quiet your brothers are napping upstairs."

Jacqueline's face wrinkled in disgust at the mention of her unwanted siblings. There were six of them now. Five boys and only one girl, her. After Jacques had come the twins Henri and Albert. They had just turned one. And about a month ago mama had had another baby, Pierre. Personally Jacqueline found each brother more annoying than the last (though none quite taxed her nerves like Gaston.)

She knew everyone else had been pleased with the new baby, but frankly Jacqueline felt it was getting a little crowded upstairs and they could all do with a little thinning in the ranks. (The main candidate up for elimination being Gaston.)

For the next hour both children were confined to the table while enduring the drudgery of their first reading lesson. Gaston quickly lost interest and amused himself by alternating between rocking his chair back and forth and complaining, until his sister wanted to cram the book down his throat just to get him to be quiet.

Jacqueline on the other hand was still to upset about the earlier happenings to pay close attention. Try as she might to concentrate she couldn't escape the sound of that girls screams as the horse trampled her. Belle noticed that her daughter veered between paying attention and being lost in her own thought so she released the two from bondage and watched as Gaston bolted for the door and Jacqueline walked very solemnly towards her favorite tree.

She wondered what could have happened to upset the child so…she didn't have to wait long for the answer.

For just then Gaston came through the door looking to be in a foul mood. Setting his rifle unceremoniously on the table he took a seat not noticing the book he had knocked to the floor in the process.

It was only mid-afternoon, Gaston was hardly ever home at this hour so his sudden appearance caused concern with Belle.

"Gaston?"

He didn't even look at her. Instead he absently petted the head of the hound pup he had given little Gaston on his last birthday. Already the animal was the size of a grown dog, with none of the good sense.

Outside,

Jacqueline sat herself against the trunk of the large oak tree. Trying to hide in the safety of its protective shadow. Drawing her knees to her chest she tried to make herself as small as possible. Hiding from the image of what she had witnessed. Closing her eyes she tried to banish the sight of that poor girl being trampled by her horse.

A deep rooted fear took hold on the young girl. For as long as she lived she would never forget the complete terror of watching that girl being trampled to death. It would haunt her forever.

Back in the House,

"Gaston what has happened?"

Sighing he raised hard eyes to hers. "The Chatelaine girl…"

"Adele? What about her?"

"She's dead…her horse went mad, trampled her underfoot. I shot the horse but it was too late."

Belle involuntarily clutched her throat in horror. "Poor thing…her poor parents."

Adele had been a sweet girl of only twelve. Belle remembered the day she was born, her parents had been so happy to have a daughter. As she had grown none could have found a more agreeable or dear child.

Though she would have never admitted it on occasion Belle had envied Adele's mother her well behaved, even tempered daughter. Qualities that Jacqueline was sadly lacking.

Tears welled in Belle's eyes at the thought of the beautiful golden haired girl who would never smile again.

What if it had been my child? She thought.

Maybe it was her unconscious desire the focus on anything besides the traumatizing news that made her willing to focus on any other possible distraction. Which came in by the sound of ripping paper.

She turned to see the forgotten story book being torn to shreds by the hound pup.

"NO!"

Quickly taking off her shoe she threw it at the dog who, relatively unfazed by the dainty slipper bounded out of the open door in search of more agreeable playmates.

Falling to the floor she scrambled to collect the shreds of paper. A few sections were salvageable but the book as a whole was ruined.

"NO!"

"What was that?"

"It was my book! You knocked it off the table and that MUTT ruined it!"

Gaston was annoyed at her apparent despair over such a trifling matter.

"Well why was it on the table?!"

"I was teaching the children to read…"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Belle froze, and Gaston visibly stiffened. He had never had a problem with her reading to the children and technically he had never said anything against the idea of them learning to read. But that was probably because they had never discussed it at all.

"Why would they need that? Gaston should be learning how to hunt and track. Those are useful skills. And the girl should be learning how to take care of a husband. Reading won't do her any good."

Turning to him her face shone with disbelief.

"What is wrong with you Gaston? Don't you understand? This isn't just a book, it is a way to visit places you could otherwise never see. It tells you stories of heroes you can admire and aspire to emulate."

"It's a waste of time!" He bit out venomously.

"WOULD YOU TAKE AWAY MY ONE ESCAPE?!"

Immediately she knew her mistake clamping a hand over her mouth trying to silence what had already been spoken.

Gaston's face hardened, growing dark with anger. Standing he toward above her as she remained kneeling on the floor. For what felt like an eternity they remained locked in each other's gaze. Hers pleading and fearful and his unforgiving.

Without speaking he stormed out of the house and disappeared into the outside world.

Belle buried her face in her hands as fear gripped her heart.

Don't you dare defy me again, or I will divorce you…and you will never see your children…again. Gaston's words echoed in her mind.

Although he hadn't threatened her thus since that day Belle hadn't forgotten. She would never forget. And she had lived every day of her life since in fear that he would hold true to his words and take her children from her.

He could too. The law granted complete rights over children, business, and property to the husband. In the event of a divorce she would be left with nothing and no one to help her.

It was the thought of losing her children that had kept her silent and submissive these past two years. But now she feared that she had gone too far in angering him and her worst nightmare would be realized.

Why did I say it? Just a few words and he could take them away from me…WHY DID I SAY IT?!

Oh she hated him! Hated him for the complete control he had over her. Hated how at every turn he seemed determined to cut away another small piece of her until there was nothing left to take! But most of all she hated that without him she would have nothing. He could take them away and she would never be able to hold her babies in her arms again.

Once again terror threatened to consume her. Still on her knees she silently begged God. Begged him to make Gaston forget! Forget what she had said and leave her with her children. She promised to willingly make no complaint of her life if he would prevent what she feared most.

Hours passed and still he didn't return. Belle cooked dinner and put the children to bed. She managed to get her father to eat and go to sleep. And then…she waited.

In front of the fireplace there were two chairs. One large and imposing showing strain from bearing the weight of its muscular owner. And the other a much small, simpler rocking chair. It was a deceptively cozy arrangement.

Taking a seat in the rocking chair Belle stared into the embers as she waited for Gaston to return. Too anxious to go to sleep.

When at last he did return it was not with loud stomping steps or harsh words like she expected. Instead the she watched as the large man made an effort (albeit clumsily) to walk softly across the floor. Trying not to wake the old man sleeping in the corner.

As he came into the soft light from the fire she searched his face for signs of anger or aggression. To her surprise he looked uncharacteristically calm, and almost anxious.

"Here" he said as he shoved a brown paper parcel into her hands.

"What's this?"

"Open it." He looked like a small boy waiting for his mother's approval.

Hesitantly she unwrapped the paper revealing a book, with a dark blue cover very similar to the one so recently destroyed.

Gaston scanned her face for a response when he didn't receive one he ventured forth some more information.

"It's a book! Like your last one. Blue, with stories."

Belle stared back in confusion. The man before her held no resembles to the man she had known these past 13 years. This man was attempting to right a wrong something her husband had never done.

She must not have looked very pleased because soon Gaston's expression returned to normal.

"What's wrong now?!"

"N-Nothing! Thank you Gaston."

"Well it's just like the other one Blue, with stories." Something about his voice sounded uncertain.

Kissing her briskly out of habit he left her by the fire and went upstairs to bed. Belle looked back at the book. Turning it over in her hands she read the title.

Astronomy through the ages.

Like a bolt of lightning realization hit.

Blue with stories…

There was no denying that this book did look exactly like the previous one except for one flaw, the title. This was a book on astronomy not stories. But Gaston hadn't known the difference. Why?

Gaston can't read!

Suddenly it all made sense, why he was so against books and why he didn't want his children learning to read. He was ashamed of his own ignorance and the only way he could think of to compensate was to believe whole heartedly that the skill of which he had been deprived was useless.

Gaston didn't want his children to read because he didn't want to be viewed as less in their eyes. For the first time since their marriage Belle felt pity for Gaston. She could never love him and would never forgive him. But for the rest of her days she would pity him, for having so little that he could not allow himself to realize what he had been robbed of.

She was still determined to teach her children to read. But she felt sorry (for once) for their fathers wounded pride. And reasoned that…

I can always teach them next year.

Sadly though she didn't intend it that year moved farther and farther away until it never came at all.

Placing the peace offering on the mantle Belle joined her husband in sleep. Dreaming as she had every night for the past 13 years of a dark forest, with an intimidating castle, where a voice called out to her.