CLAIR DE LUNE'S
The Part 13

Clair-de-Lune lowered her head. But, sadly, he lifted his head and shook his head.

Clair-de-Lune's face was bright, Brother Inchmahome smiled at him. “What?” said.

But, then Clair-de-Lune remembered he could not speak. What's the point of knowing the answer, if he can't tell her?

He looked at Brother in despair.

“Ah,” Brother Inchmahome said, looking at him sweetly and cheerfully from behind his glasses, “but you forgot, I think you can already talk—or can, if I listen to you.”

Then, very calmly but alertly, he sat listening.

How much Clair-de-Lune wants to talk!

He opened his mouth. He licked his tongue. He took a deep breath. Then take another breath. But no matter how he tries, it seems he can't. He doesn't know how.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and slowly fell to her cheeks.

But, Brother Inchmahome did not look sad. He just stared with interest.

“Voice,” suggestion. “What sounds.”

Clair-de-Lune swallowed; turned, looked at him again;

closed his eyes. He tried to make a sound. He tried to make another sound. He started shaking…

Then he heard it; or felt it, not only of Brother Inchmahome, but of himself, Clair-de-Lune: a warm silence, full of light, that is, the silence which is the listening ability of Brother Inchmahome.

The silence kept him from falling.

He opened his mouth…

…and a small sound—voice that barely

sound—appeared out of nowhere, from within him.

His eyes widened, wide open so surprised and frightened.

But Brother Inchmahome just smiled cheerfully at him. Clair-de-Lune suddenly came to a realization, Brother was happy to see it.

“Now!” said. “Just think about what you want to say to me, and make a sound at the same time.”

Clair-de-Lune looked at him uneasily. It's almost

I can't believe what happened. He was half excited half scared.

He took another deep breath, and again, closed his eyes.

I didn't ask my grandmother for permission, she thought, because I was afraid she would ban it. You know, he didn't want me to come here, because he wanted me to always be mute. And that, Brother Inchmahome is the reason why I am mute. I didn't get my grandmother's permission.

While thinking so, he made noises

as smooth as the sound of a bird.

Sounds like a baby talk, before he can

speakin.

Sounds like this:

“Ah... ah ah ah.. ah! Ah-ah, ah, ah, ah.. ah!”

Clair-de-Lune fell silent, then sighed deeply.

Suddenly he felt tired; and sad, because he knew it was not talking. How could it speak, if no one could understand it?

He looked with regret at Brother

Inchmahome´s.

But, he did not understand the expression on Brother's face

almost seemed to understand it.

“Any once!” he said as he looked at Clair-de-Lune with unanimous interest.

But…! Clair-de-lune.

“Probably,” says Brother Inchmahome, “your grandmother

assume talk isn't something good?”

But…! Clair-de-lune.

“Not,” Brother Inchmahome said again, “ia herself

can talk?”

But…! Clair-de-lune.

“However, Clair-de-Lune,” Brother Inchmahome said seriously, “ia should not stand in your way, even if she is your grandmother. You have the right to speak the speaking ability that God gave you! No one—including your good grandmother (i'm sure deep in her heart she's a good person),” her own murmur, “to take what God gives to someone.”

Clair-de-Lune looked at him in amazement. He understands! But how is it possible? No way! No. gabe…

“You wonder I understand you?” ask Brother Inchmahome softly.

Clair-de-Lune is trembling. He nodded repeatedly.

“Ah, but, Clair-de-Lune—your words are clear! When are you gonna believe me, son? I understand because I listen to you.”

Bonaventure who was sitting on the grass under Brother Inchmahome's feet now jumped up, and held his chest tightly with his little claws. “Listening?” yells. “But of course, Brother Inchmahome, listen as you mean this miracle!”

“Magic?” said. “Maybe. But, really, just listen, and everyone should be able to do it. We all have ears. I

I've thought about it a lot, because I've been trying for years. It was difficult—was difficult for me. We must let whatever we listen to be what it is, and funny, at first it feels.

frightful. Maybe because..” then he fell silent, looking shy. “But you don't want to hear about this, do you?”

If only Clair-de-Lune were more used to being listened to,

he may soon answer, yes, of course I would, please tell us about listening to this, but Brother Inchmahome hastily added, “Dan Clair-de-Lune looks tired. Enough for a day. But—I want to give you another task.”

“Clair-de-Lune, that's not your only reason

can't talk. Think of another reason... and let me know tomorrow.”.

“And now,” he continued while lifting the cloak

brown lying on the bench by his side, “I'll come with you home to ask your grandmother for permission. I don't look scared, do I?”

He bowed and stuck out a hand at Bonaventure, who immediately climbed on top of him. Then he gave another hand to Clair-de-Lune. This girl held onto it, smiled shyly, and the three of them immediately set off, left the garden, passed through the study room and returned to the hallway,

pass through the doorman, who is rewarded with a nod by Brother Inchmahome, then exit through the entrance to return to the main building.

Clair-de-Lune must hurry to not be left behind,

because Brother Inchmahome walks fast, with wide steps. But he felt proud and honoured to be able to walk by his side; and suddenly he did not feel sad or afraid again passing back through the black door of it—even it felt good to do it with friends. When they went through it he almost laughed—but not to the widest, because even though he tried, Clair-de-Lune could not laugh with a voice.

But Bonaventure heard it.

“What the hell makes you ticklish, Mademoiselle?” asked from Brother Inchmahome's shoulder, his mustache twitched with curiosity.

“Ah,” says Brother Inchmahome. “I guess, if I'm not mistaken, it's a quiet little laugh from happiness, dear Bonaventure. And now, Brother Tik—because we will take a different path—it's time we say good morning!”

“Ya, good morning!” Bonaventure. He went down half the stairs. “Until tomorrow, Brother, Mademoiselle!”

And now the two of them, Clair-de-Lune and

Brother Inchmahome, in that dark brothel. The wooden door closed itself behind them.

Seriate…