Ok so I wrote this chapter while listening to Schindler's list's theme. (I know morbid but it was helpful.)
So If any of you wonderful readers need help emotionally connecting to this chapter I recommend listening to it while you read. Here is the URL: /watch?v=2tcJLZt6Cnc on youtube
It's long so you shouldn't have to worry about restarting it or anything.
Once again thank you to all who have reviewed my story, I really appreciate it. Also sorry for Grammar issues and PLEASE REVIEW!
Chapter 6: Goodbye
1 year later
Quietly, Jacqueline crept down the staircase, careful to miss that one step that creaked no matter how lightly you walked on it. It was much too late for a little girl to be up and about, but she couldn't sleep.
It was far too light out to sleep. Despite the extremely late hour the stars and moon were shining at their brightest, making it very difficult for the seven year old to slumber- not a dilemma shared by her brothers.
Since the arrival of Pierre, Jacqueline had been forced to relinquish her place in the large bed for a trundle on the floor. Not an entirely disagreeable arrangement, at least now she didn't have to fight Jacques for the blanket or get kicked in the back by a sleeping Gaston. And her new location did give a superb view of the stars through the odd crack in the celling that she hadn't been able to see before. Mama said that Papa was going to fix it soon before the snows came. But secretly, Jacqueline hoped it wouldn't happen and she could have her lovely view to herself all winter long.
She tensed as the floor boards groaned underfoot. Standing on her toes, she tried to be as light as possible in order to avoid awakening anyone and thus alerting them to her nocturnal activities. She couldn't explain what had possessed her to come downstairs but something told her to, and try as she might she just couldn't ignore it.
Coming round the corner she saw him. Sitting up in his bed, bathed in the pale blue moonlight streaming through the window.
For the past year he had sat in that bed. Not talking, not smiling. He didn't remember any of them, instead he was lost in a world they could not reach, and he couldn't understand. Jacqueline had watched silently as her mother had taken care of him. Dressing, washing, she even had to hold his spoon to his lips like an infant. She had never said a word, but inwardly she had wept for him, and herself. Oh how she missed him…her Grandpa.
She would talk to him sometimes, in the night like this. In total darkness she would creep downstairs and stand by the bed as the old man slept. She would talk to him then. No one else was around to hear, so she would pour out her little soul and all its troubles to the one who had once known her best but could no longer remember. But in those moments she could imagine that it was as it had been before. When he would tell her stories and show her inventions, giving her the attention she so craved, as she gave him the admiration he needed.
But she knew the truth, it wasn't the same and it would never be again. Tiptoeing to the edge of the bed, she saw that he was awake! And looking longingly out the window at the moon. When he turned to her his face lit up with joy. And for a shining, precious moment it was the same.
"Hello Jacqueline, bit late for you to be up isn't it?"
The dumbstruck child nodded her head as tears sprang to her eyes. Her grandpa hadn't spoken in a year and now he was speaking! And he was speaking to her!
Maurice smiled before turning his gaze back to the window. He was a very old man now, his size had shrunk to that of a child. His bony old frame seemed lost in the large bed. His skin drooped, sagged, and wrinkled as if pulled down by the weight of his years. His snow white hair was thin and sparse and his hazel eyes were dulled to his surroundings so much that he was practically blind.
"Did I ever tell you about your grandmother?"
Once again, Jacqueline shook her head.
Never looking away from the silver orb, he began his tale.
"Her name was Louise, and she was the prettiest girl in my whole village."
Jacqueline moved closer to the bed so as not to miss any of his quiet, hoarse words.
"She looked a lot like my Belle, your mama. And a little like you."
The little girl straightened at the thought of looking like her mother and the grandmother she had never known. It made her feel a part of the tale.
"I never knew what she saw in me." He chuckled a little before it turned into a light cough.
"She would walk by my father's farm every morning. I was always too afraid to talk to her." Another chuckle. "But that didn't put her off. Finally, she approached me, inviting me to the village dance. I was so nervous all I could do was nod. I thought for sure she would think I was dumb and never speak to me again, instead she smiled."
A sweet smile spread across his old face at the memory. Sighing he wearily laid back against the pillow as he continued. "Ah she was wonderful. And the most beautiful dancer. When she began to dance, all eyes were on her. I don't think even the angels would have dared to interrupt her."
Jacqueline watched as a weary sadness crept into his eyes and a single tear fall down his withered old cheek, getting lost in the wrinkles.
"I haven't seen her dance in many years…I miss her so…Oh Louise, why couldn't you have stayed with me?"
Jacqueline felt the world grow still and even the stars seemed to dim in sorrow for Maurice's long dead love. She watched as more silent tears rolled down the old man's cheeks. He made no sounds, no sobs of anguish or loss. Just an old sadness that fell without his consent or acknowledgment.
"I can still hear the music. Can you hear it Jacqueline?"
The little girl brushed her own tears away with the back of her hand.
"It is there, isn't it?" His voice was full of fear, begging her to tell him that Louise's song still played.
Looking back at the sweet old face Jacqueline nodded.
"Yes Grandpa, I can hear it."
A relieved smile formed on his sagging cheeks.
"Would you dance for me?"
Nodding once again, she moved to the middle of the rug so the moonlight from the window would make her as visible as possible for his dimming eyes. Lifting her arms into the air she twirled and bowed gracefully across the rug. Bending and swaying to the imaginary music with a natural grace and talent that most ballet dancers would have envied. She had a gift that until then hadn't been realized.
Closing his eyes, Maurice saw his beautiful wife dancing across the clouds, causing him to leave a lingering smile on his face. Even though his eyes closed, Jacqueline continued to dance just in case he should open them again.
She didn't know why, but after a long while she realized that they would never open again and she stopped.
No longer holding back the sobs, she walked to his bedside and took his cold hand in hers. Between hiccupping sobs she spoke.
"You don't have to wait anymore grandpa…you can dance with her now."
Sobbing she knelt on the floor burying her face in the covers allowing the soft fabric to soak up her tears. That is where she was found the next morning. Kneeling by his bedside hand still holding his, holding on for as long as she could.
After the Funeral,
Belle wandered blindly. She didn't hear those around her, didn't see the path her feet took, all she knew was she had to get out of there. It was suffocating in that house. For hours people had come by and sat around in silence. She HATED that silence. What hurt most was the reason for it.
Some had come out of obligation, others with genuine concern. But the motives mattered little. They were her friends and neighbors; they should have comforted her, talked about the good times with her papa, shared their own stories of loss and allowed her to mourn.
Perhaps they had come to her house following the funeral with these intentions, but once again it hardly mattered. For all of them had sat in stone cold silence. None able to offer words of comfort or happy memories, because in their eyes Maurice had been an insane old man and they could only think of the ease brought to her life now that the worry of caring for him was over.
None of them knew him. They hadn't known the kind man who would do anything for a neighbor. Whose only concern in life was the happiness and safety of others. None had cared to take the time to get to know him, instead labeling him as crazy and viewing him through that lens alone.
What was even worse, was Maurice had never allowed their feelings towards him to color his treatment of them. (If he had ever even realized the extent of their prejudice.) They had laughed at him and mocked him for years. But still he had returned their scoffs with smiles. Always treating them with the kindness they denied him. And how was he repaid? They sat in silence.
Finally the quiet became so oppressive that she fled the cottage, leaving them all sitting there. She had run into the street and began to walk with no destination in mind.
How papa…how could you leave me…
Tears flowed down her cheeks as the knowledge once again sat in that he was gone.
The black clad woman continued to wander until she found herself inside the church. Belle looked around the building not remembering having entered so deep had her thoughts been. She couldn't recall the last time she had been here. For although Belle had always believed in God she had never considered herself a very religious person, so it was difficult to remember the last time she had stood on this stone floor.
It must have been my wedding…no wonder I tried to forget…
Truth be told everything about that day had been a blur for many years now.
The church was extremely old being the only building that still remained from the village's founding. Its exterior was simple, a reflection of the lives of those who worshipped within. But inside it was a different story. Though it could not compare with the ornate cathedrals of the rest of Europe it was none the less elegant, invoking a sense of reverence with its simple splendor.
Pulled by some unseen force Belle entered the building. It was abandoned so she made her way to the front. Listening the click of her shoes echo off the stone walls. Watching the colorful light from the stain glass dance across the floor.
Sitting down in a pew she wept.
Papa, I miss you so much…
Belle didn't see the elderly Priest enter the sanctuary. Didn't notice him quietly approach with fatherly concern on his face.
"Child what is wrong?"
Belle looked up in surprise.
"I buried my father today…shouldn't I feel sad."
Placing a wrinkled hand on her shoulder he continued to look at her with understanding.
"Of course you should. But that is not all that troubles you."
She didn't know this man. The Priest who had performed her marriage had died long ago. And some young cleric had overseen her father's funeral. This old man was a complete stranger to her, but sometimes it is easier to share with a stranger than a friend.
Overcome with grief and the fresh emotions of loss Belle began to sob. The elderly friar sat beside her and allowed her her tears. Between the sobs she confessed everything to him. Something she had never done before to anyone…not even fully to herself.
She told him of her Papa. Of how she had married to keep him safe. Of her despair in her marriage, and that despite the many years love had not grown between them and likely never would. She spoke of her children and the losing fight of Gaston's influence over them. But mostly she poured out her feelings of loneliness especially now that the one person left who she felt truly cared was gone.
"Father I just feel so alone."
The Priest gave her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and kindly held her hand.
"You have suffered much my daughter, but you have done great good too. You gave up your own happiness for your father's safety and you have honored your wedding vows. These are noble things that our heavenly father will not forget."
Belle continued to stare at the floor taking little comfort in his words. The Priest sighed before continuing.
"I know your life is hard, but you must believe me that one day God will bring it all to right. It may not be during our time on this earth but that doesn't matter because God's time is not our own. Your father lived a long life and he suffered much. But now his suffering is over and he is at peace. I know that you have lost him, but perhaps though we mourn the angels are celebrating. One day you will see him again but you can't give up now. Your children now need you as you once needed him."
Belle looked at the man. His mouth was hidden by a long white beard but she could tell by his eyes that he was smiling at her. There was a calming peace about him that she deeply envied.
"Father how can you have such faith? Why are you so at peace?"
The Priest motioned to the church surrounding them. "He gives me peace, trust in him child and he will give you strength to endure."
Leaving her the old man rose and walked away. Belle could hear the rustling sound of his robe as he walked. For the first time in many years she felt a sense of purpose in her life, and perhaps some peace. Yes she still missed her papa that feeling wasn't gone and it never would be. But he was free now from his pain. And she had children of her own who she loved and needed her.
Rising from her place Belle left the church and went home. Months later when Belle's baby was born she named him Maurice in honor of her papa. Not even Gaston argued.
That Night,
Belle quietly opened the door peering at the sleeping children inside the room. Smiling she laid an extra quilt over the sleeping boys in the bed and kissed the foreheads of the twins who snuggled together for warmth. Turning to leave noticed the empty trundle where a seven year old little girl was supposed to be sleeping.
Careful to not wake anyone Belle made her way down the stairs. She found her daughter curled up in front of the fire. Sitting in her father's chair practically swallowed by its enormous frame.
The girl looked into the flames with those large violet eyes that were so full of confusion and sadness that it made Belle's heart ache.
Sitting in the rocking chair she sat her daughter on her lap (as best she could.) And the two sat staring at the fire in silence. Listening to the crackle of the burning logs and the squeak of the rocking chair as it swayed back and forth.
Jacqueline spoke first.
"I miss him mama."
Belle drew her arms tighter around her daughter holding her close.
"I know ma Cherie, I miss him too."
There was nothing else to be said so they just sat together sharing in each other's grief. After a long time Belle spoke.
"Jacqueline, would you like to hear a story?"
The little girl turned her head towards her mother.
"Is it a true story?"
Belle thought about that for a while.
"…It may have been once…but now I think it was just a story…But some things are better as stories…then you can change the ending."
Jacqueline leaned her head back against her mama's shoulder safe in her loving arms. Belle began her tale.
"Once upon a time, in the forest, there was a dark castle, were lived a Beast…"