CLAIR DE LUNE'S
The Part 14
But the darkness seemed lifted by the presence of Brother Inchmahome.
“Where to go?” he said, and Clair-de-Lune guided him to the steps leading to the basement of the roof—and this time his attention was so distracted by Brother Inchmahome that he did not realize how many rows of stairs he had climbed.
But when he got to the front of the roof basement and saw the window that was there, he realized that time had not passed in the slightest so his grandmother certainly still asleep. How could Brother ask him permission? He turned and looked at him question-marked, and he saw the Brother's face as if glaring.
“How easy it is to forget,” he said softly, “the world is out here..”.
Then he realized the boy was worried about his grandmother. “He's not awake?” he said half in a daze.
“Sure... It's okay. I'll wait here until he's ready to meet me.”.
The brother fell silent, and looked around.
“Now my listening skills will be tested,” he murmured shortly afterwards. “Yes, it is difficult to listen to everything, and let everything, even painful ones, as it is…
You just sleep again, Clair-de-Lune,” he added kindly. “This morning you have worked hard, and need to rest.”
Clair-de-Lune hesitated. Is it true that he should let Brother wait here for an hour, maybe even more? But he knew, even now the Brother began to listen to something, something he could not hear. He sighs. Brother has forgotten it. He opened the door—lalu
close it slowly. He pulled the Brother's sleeve to attract his attention. He looked into his eyes and made a much more beautiful gesture than yesterday (because the greetings from the dancers could have been
very tricky). Thank you, Brother Inchmahome.
The brother smiled, and greeted him back with a nod of his head. Thank you again, Clair-de-Lune.
Then, as if her chest was breaking from happiness, this girl walked into the basement of the roof.
Clair-de-Lune doesn't believe he can sleep in
such a situation. But he was so tired; and he felt so safe knowing Brother Inchmahome was waiting for him outside the door of—and somehow, so sure his presence was accepted—so soon, in the cold gray dawn, he was so, Clair-de-Lune fell asleep again. Male and happy.
# # #
When Clair-de-Lune woke up, he had forgotten all
what happened this morning blind.
“Wake up, Son! Get dressed! We woke up late and you can't be late. A dancer should not be late.”
Usually, Clair-de-Lune gets upset when it wakes up like that. But, this morning he was so overjoyed that he immediately jumped out of bed, changed his clothes and breakfast as quickly as possible, with an amused laugh churning inside him that was almost a—but not until— came out into sound. Taste
amused can wake up bad luck. It's funny to see her grandmother feeling upset just because of falling asleep.
“Straighten your back, Nak—where are your legs?—dan (astaga, my son, what the hell are you thinking?) no, don't keep grinning! Why the hell are you this morning? Dancers can't grunt!”
And, of course, things are getting ridiculous.
The ballerina is grim! But, Clair-de-Lune's down.
“Now leave. You have to be on time.”
Clair-de-Lune out the door; and there, on the chair
near the window, Brother Inchmahome was still waiting with a very calm and happy facial expression.
Soon Clair-de-Lune remembered.
And soon his heart was stirred up a sense of happiness that almost felt painful.
still here! And made a snoring-like sound in his throat.
“Of course I'm still here,” he replied. Then he
nodding bidding farewell to him, flicking his robe as if he had just made a long and complicated trip, bowing, and knocking on the door.
“Who?” clair-de-Lune's grandmother's reply was heard, resolute and surprised.
And Clair-de-Lune rushed down the stairs.
# # #
Clair-de-Lune never knew what was said
Brother Inchmahome to his grandmother. All he knew was that it was noon when he came home for lunch (after a bit of anxiety and again reprimanded by Monsieur Dupoint—not to mention Bonaventure also warned him by
shaking his hands) his grandmother looked very confused. Especially when Clair-de-Lune had just eaten half a loaf of bread, her grandmother said, as if hoping Clair-de-Lune would not like to hear it:
“A monk named Brother Inchmahome came from the monastery. He offered to teach you a lesson in Soul Expression, a discipline he said was important to artists. I've agreed to— on condition that this lesson won't interfere with your daily routine—because I thought, a visit to the monastery will give you a Calming Influence. You have to go there every morning at six o'clock, when the brother has a little free time. In return, you will be sent shopping to the market for the monks.”
Thus, Clair-de-Lune got his grandmother's permission to learn to speak, though he was not sure whether his grandmother understood what Brother Inchmahome meant by Soul Expression.
But, there is something that Clair-de-Lune does not know. Her grandmother had known for years that there was a monastery in the building. But all this time thought it was just a fairy tale.
# # #
That morning lesson wasn't easy for Clair-de-Lune.
First of all, he made mistakes
daydreaming, reproved again by Monsieur Dupointm and he felt the rest of his class was glad he was scolded.
Then, after class, there was a problem with Milly
Twinkenham.
Clair-de-Lune was so busy thinking about this-it—and it was no surprise!—so he didn't realize the girls were crowding behind the class, until he was in front of them. They were gathering to notice something: what?
Could it…?
Clair-de-Lune stopped walking, terrified, because
the girls were near the Bonaventure rat hole.
But they are not looking down. They saw something on the wall. They were silent for a moment while Milly approached towards the wall; then suddenly, when she moved away again, the girls burst into laughter.
Clair-de-Lune felt awkward; but now he knew Bonaventure was not in danger, and whenever possible, he did not want to get involved. However, before he made it through the door, Milly saw him.
“Oh, Clair-de-Lune,” call him, his voice trembling
for holding a laugh, and he held something similar to a pencil. Suddenly his friends fell silent and watched. “To here.”
Friendly attitude. Clair-de-Lune hesitated, took a few steps forward; then stopped, standing awkwardly before them.
There was something on his attitude that might have been ludicrous to them. Suddenly, while looking at him, they began to stumble.
Seriate…