CLAIR DE LUNE'S
The Part 22

The Mass continued, but Clair-de-Lune did not take it anymore. People pray and sing, there are sermons and offerings, the choir sings some songs, the people are blessed and start to go out into the sunshine again.

But throughout the service he thought only: nothing is more important than love. There aren't. Then…

Love is more important than Dance.

Did ya?

Clair-de-Lune stood in his row, with no memory of where he was. Faintly, he saw the very tall Mr. Kirk passing by as he walked outside the church; unconsciously Clair-de-Lune smiled at him— somewhat awkwardly because he was not used to smiling—dan, while raising his eyebrows, he said, Mr. Kirk smiled back and his entire face changed instantly.

Clair-de-Lune has never heard that there is anything more important than Dance. He thought dance was the most important thing. He thought he was guilty of wanting more than dancing. Could he be right?

Miss Blossom passed by, and Clair-de-Lune smiled awkwardly. Miss Blossom opened her mouth in surprise, then winked one eye at her in a joyful expression.

But that means her grandmother was wrong! At the very least, it seems the Church disagrees with her grandmother. This is a possibility that Clair-de-Lune never thought of before. He always thought his grandmother and the Church were in complete agreement.

But worse, this could mean his mother was mistaken, and Clair-de-Lune could not think of him. Because of course, dancing for her mother is the most important thing in the world.

Clair-de-Lune walked back and forth outside the church— shook hands with Pastor—almost collided with Mrs Costello—smile apolog—received a reply a nervous smile—walked down the stairs and rushed home with a bewildered heart.

Of course love is more important, even than speaking, because, Clair-de-Lune thought, if I speak with the tongues of men and angels, but have no love, I'm just a clanging gong or a clanging canang.

Ah, but it's true!

For the first time Clair-de-Lune understood that speaking was only a means for her to show love.

Finally, Clair-de-Lune heard the subversive things in the church that her grandmother had feared.

But it's still morning.

# # #

“Of course, maybe no one showed up. There's no one!” Bonaventure laughed, his voice small like the ringing of a bell. He spoke very quickly, as usual, when he was nervous.

“One has wondered, even signed up, but. Maybe I was wrong for starting the course on Sunday. Isn't dancing a hard work—and very serious. But it feels good to get together for the first time on a day when school is quiet, there are no humans. And Brother Inchmahome has agreed. He said, the Sabbath was created for man, not man for Sabbath—and not for rats at all. You're coming, aren't you, to review the first day of this first class? That is if there is a first class. My teaching career will probably be over before it even begins.”.

He laughed again, a little hysterical, then turned serious.

“Oh, Mademoiselle Clair-de-Lune, do you think this is a mistake? Do you think I'll be able to?”

The love! Her thought.

The love!

Of course you can, he said with the sound of a chick.

But of course, even though Bonaventure could hear him, he did not understand what he was saying.

However, Bonaventure had already begun to gather enough courage from within himself.

“Mademoiselle,” he said start, while lifting a little of his chin. “I was mistaken to have worried about all this. Because even if there is only one student of course—even if only one— I will take it as a sign that I have to continue this course. In order to teach, I only need one student. And if I teach one student, my whole career will be worth it!

“Take the example, Brother Inchmahome. He taught only one student to speak. And that, Mademoiselle, to me is the most precious thing I have ever witnessed.”

Clair-de-Lune couldn't bear to not kiss her for saying so. Then, right inside the empty room of Monsieur Dupoint's class after hugging him even tighter, he placed Bonaventure gently on the floor. The rat waved warmly at him, got up and walked firmly and confidently into his rat hole.

Then Clair-de-Lune heard something witty, something she had not known.

He tried to imagine what it was. Then he realized it. It was the clapping of hands of many rats.

Bonaventure soon reappeared on the doorstep of his class. His eyes were shining with feeling. He gave a signal, and went back inside. Clair-de-Lune leaned over on the wooden floor, hoping not to ruin her dress. When he looked down into the pit of the mouse, he saw a very amazing sight.

At the barre along the walls of the Bonaventure class stand, not one, but twenty-four dancing rats. Twenty-four pairs of brilliant eyes stared at Clair-de-Lune. Twenty-four pairs of mouse hands clapped again.

There was Margot, white as snow and wearing a pink ribbon around her neck. There was Rudolph, who was fixing the glasses on his nose. There was Juliet, who (thankfully) had arrived safely (even if her parents counted the minutes until she returned home) and who looked smaller, greyer, and more shy than anyone. And there, in every place in the barre, were rats from the cobbler's workshop and mice from the Duke of Wellington's building, sad rats, cheerful mice, and, and the mouse from the sewing house (who felt frustrated because he had worn the wrong costume).

But, the black and beautiful-spirited silk-haired mouse was still on the road, walking steadily towards his destination, somewhat hungry but hopeful.

“This,” Bonaventure announced, “is our Protector, the reliable dancer of Mademoiselle Clair-de-Lune, who has kindly shown interest and supported us. He is here now to review our first class. Now, Mesdames, Messieurs, attention, s’il vous plait—please pay attention.

We will start, of course, with the Plie movement. First position—like this! Upset body—like this! Tails inserted! Abdominal deflated. Head erect! And..”

Bonaventure began his teaching career.

Clair-de-Lune had already watched the rat class for about twenty minutes when Monsieur Dupoint entered. He was so fascinated (since there was nothing more interesting than watching a dance class of rats) that he was unaware of his trainer's presence until he almost entered the room. The door rattled behind him. The rats stopped dancing.

Seriate...