CLAIR DE LUNE'S
The Part 30

It was easy for Clair-de-Lune to learn her mother's dance: so easy it felt scary. It felt like he knew the dance.

But that's not what makes him dance so well.

The reason is, for the rest of his life he has never

concentrate like that; have never thought of rhythm and movement so exclusively, and think of nothing beyond that. She has become a puppet dancer! Because he knew, once he stopped concentrating and turned into a breathing living girl again, he would get lost.

The hardest part is the end.

“Down, down, down—glide forward, yes,

right—head slowly. This goose is dying, but look at it, until at the end, it keeps fighting. He wants to live. It's important to remember, Clair-de-Lune. This goose is almost dead, but wants to live.”

And until recently, Monsieur Dupoint was so involved in training, in training the girl, so that he does not remember anymore about his mother—just about the dance was almost as if the dance has no history and was created for the first time specifically for Clair-de-Lune here, in front of him.

But, Clair-de-Lune has not forgotten the history of dance

that, and his attempt not to listen to—not only listened to his thoughts, not his heart— is currently almost unbearable.

When the rehearsal was over and the music stopped,

Clair-de-Lune is as pale as a corpse.

“Good!” said Monsieur Dupoint, so happy to see the development of his students that he did not pay attention to his condition. “You inherited your mother's talent, my son. Now go home and eat a lot. Then rest. You can rest as calm as the angels.”

But, when Clair-de-Lune made a move

his reverence, first to Monsieur Dupoint and then to Mr. Sparrow who was at the piano, glimpses of Monsieur Dupoint feeling himself goosebumps in fear. Suddenly his mood deteriorated again. He stared at Mr

Sparrow. Quickly Mr. Sparrow rearranged his musical paper, closed the piano, and followed Clair-de-Lune out the door.

Monsieur Dupoint was alone in his classroom, staring resentfully out the window.

And Bonaventure, who witnessed everything from

the rat hole, trying to understand what happened.

Meanwhile on the stairs, just at the turn between

the first and second steps after the dance school floor, Clair-de-Lune curled up, shaking and sobbing softly.

It'll take weeks. How could he possibly hold it?

But he survives, because (not already explained) Clair-de-Lune has a determination as strong as steel. He could not argue with his grandmother; he could not disappoint Monsieur Dupoint and the Dance Company; he could not disappoint the memory of his mother.

However, as time went on, it seemed as if his heart was breaking. Because, in order to survive with all this, in order to survive

alive, he was forced to betray something else. And the thing he betrayed was much more important.

While the day turns night, and it grows into day again; Clair-de-Lune lives out her days: sleeping, visiting Brother Inchmahome, and,

go to class, practice her mother's dance, shop at the market, and sleep again. He ate only a little and his body grew thinner; and he did not

Monsieur Dupoint was amazed to see his progress. But as the staging date drew near, he noticed something was missing. Not only that; he knew what was missing.

“He has frozen himself,” he said when

watching Clair-de-Lune dance one afternoon. “He froze himself against the pain. Technically he is great for his age. But he dances

dispassionately. While her mother,” remembers, “dance with a feeling.”

But even if the dance is very important to him, and

he knew Clair-de-Lune could do better, Clair-de-Lune's progress delighted him, and his anxiety began to wane. For if

Clair-de-Lune can finish this performance and just do the movements alone (as now)—yah is indeed all that can be expected of a child—ia know Clair-de-Lune is safe.

He imagined it was easy to dance this way, without feeling. But he had no idea how much energy was being absorbed. And the

most cruel, to Clair-de-Lune, was the fact that he could no longer speak to Brother Inchmahome—even in the voice of a chick

even if—or at least, he could not state what was buried in his heart.

Because it's true. If someone can't

listen, he can't talk either.

# # #

While Clair-de-Lune is training for staging

his first professional, Bonaventure, was working on his first performance. He took the Company's centenary as the date of his first ballet performance, and with the dancers he tried his hardest. He trains, revises—because often the reality on the field is different to what he has in mind—and also, when he finds strength in someone, he likes to take advantage of it and immediately

designing a new role for him.

For example, when he saw the young Rudolph jumping so high, Bonaventure soon developed an additional plot on the dance

her ballet. The story goes, the Prince has a Faithful Friend who will accompany him on his journey! And when he saw Margot could be so expressive with her whisker movements, he created a single dance specifically for her: she became the Dayang-Dayang Lady Vivacious.

He hesitates to create a role for himself. Actually, he just wanted to act as a director, and he thought, that would make him very troubled. But the company has decided. None, they said, could play the Rat Prince as well as him. So, he gave up on their consideration, and played the role with all his might

her heart. The Rat Princess will be played by little Juliet from the printing press. It is indeed the most graceful of all, and has the most graceful tail

of all his students. Juliet's tail, Bonaventure believes, has its own ability to tell the audience.

The sheet music for the Prince Hunt was written by an intelligent deaf mouse, who lives inside an organ in St.'s Church. Mary. He had made it up himself in mind, and was practicing at the toy piano that Bonaventure found in the toy store. Money is not important to rats, but rats always know where money can be found: there is always a dime that falls into a ditch, splashes behind furniture, or is hidden under the floor

wooden floor. Bonaventure managed to raise enough money from his students—and from his own search results—to pay the piano price

that and put his money on his shelf in the shop, before he and some powerful friends moved it at night and hauled it painstakingly up the stairs, to its new place.

Seriate...