CLAIR DE LUNE'S
The Part 37
Bonaventure's mustache tickled his ear.
“Look up!” said. “Look up, look up,
Mademoiselle!”
Clair-de-Lune according; and know-know he has
face to face with the moon.
But it's not the moon. Except for an oval face
a pale woman, with a black sky full of disheveled hair, and
eyes that are like stars.
“That woman!” bonaventure whisper.
Clair-de-Lune looked at the woman's face. That woman
looking back at Clair-de-Lune's face.
And at once Clair-de-Lune forgot the stairs, forgot the weight of his body. He released himself and reached for the Woman with all his strength, almost leaping upwards, and just as he felt himself falling, he saw her eyes widening with fear and something
another, some sort of lethargy. But Bonaventure, with his new strength, propped him up from behind, pulled him back; and again the Clair-de-Lune fingers gripped the stairs.
But, that's my mom! He said unconsciously.
Yes, said the woman, I am your mother…
“At the same time, please, Mademoiselle,” said
Bonaventur firmly in his ear, “whatever happens, do not let go of the stairs. The magic is limited to it.”
So, Clair-de-Lune stood still, and the stairs were
back and forth. He was eager to get close to the woman, but his wish was only expressed in his heart.
Mom left me! Said.
Uh! That is beyond my will! Said the Woman. If only you knew!
I-i know. I know, Clair-de-Lune said. The swan is dead, but he wants to live…
If only you knew how much he wanted to live! Said the woman. But my heart is broken…
The man's heart was also broken! Clair-de-lune.
And I have never said it, said the woman. I died trying to say it.
Can I stay with you? Pinta Clair-de-Wune.
The woman looked down, towards him, her eyes
bright with tears, like stars.
If you stay here with me, that man will never know. And his heart won't heal.
I love my father! Clair-de-lune.
Me too! Said the Woman. But
he doesn't know!
They stared at each other without saying anything, and
Clair-de-Lune felt that, even though half of his heart was asleep miles below him, the other half was among the stars with the Woman, and that wherever he lived, his heart will be split in two.
And now our hearts will all be broken! Said.
Tell him what I didn't do, ask the woman. Not from my heart, but from yours.
My life is over. Your life has just begun. But you can save
my life—improve everything, everything that has gone before, everything!—by living
your life is free, not like me. You know, there's a miracle in
lived. And if you do this, everything will be fine.
And his voice was like a reverberation, like a bell
chiming break night:
“After dawn!” bonaventure whisper.
Live, Clair-de-Lune, said the woman. Live on.
And Clair-de-Lune knew he had to come down and leave the woman forever.
But he was still standing on the stairs,
looking up at the face of the woman. And the Woman stared back at him, while her wild black hair seemed to be scattered in the sky, and her eyes were sparkling with love.
Time passed; long, as if a lifetime,
or throughout the dream.
Then finally, reluctantly, Clair-de-Lune began
down stairs.
He went down, down, down, while constantly staring
the woman's face, and as she descended she felt herself enveloped in the soft silvery moonlight, so full of tenderness that Clair-de-Lune did not
feeling pain, even though he knew every step took him further and further, and at the end of this beam he would wake up again in the ordinary world.
The blue ball gets bigger, and
countries in the world—desert and mountains, snowy areas and the sea
lasan—the longer it gets closer; and the sparkling rivers and rural lands
around the city it was getting closer and closer so he finally came down from the stairs of the mine and into the room in the magic building where he came from. But he never took his eyes off the moon, not even when, with
help Bonaventure, he lay back on his bed and lay his head— which was full of stars—to the pillow.
“Goodnight, Mademoiselle Clair-de-Lune,” heard Bonaventure say, “Goodbye!”
Goodbye, my son, the voice of the woman was heard in his mind. God bless you!
And Clair-de-Lune lay back on her bed,
fast asleep while the dawn of a new day stretched across the sky, and the pendulum which was Bonaventure's last gift docked at the base of his neck.
# # #
Clair-de-Lune opened her eyes.
He was lying on his bed in the basement of the roof. It was morning; and very quiet. On the bed on the other side of the room, his grandmother fell asleep; clair-de-Lune knew from the grandmother's breath, even though she was too weak
to move his head.
Then he realized someone was holding
his hands, and, with great difficulty, he looked a little to find out who it was.
“Good morning,” Brother Inchmahome said. He sits in
the chair beside the bed, staring at him, his eyes as clear and as gray as the dawn sky.
Slowly Clair-de-Lune smiled.
“So,” says Brother Inchmahome softly, “you've
back from your journey. I'm so afraid you decided not to come back.”
Slowly, Clair-de-Lune shook his head. Then his eyes filled with tears.
“Bonaventure,” says Brother Inchmahome. “Yes, I know. He loved and lost his love, right? But I doubt, did he really lose his love?”
Vague but sure, Clair-de-Lune shook her head.
Silent moment. Brother Inchmahome got up, and poured a little wheat germ juice into a glass. Then he propped up the girl's head and gave her a drink. He placed it again on the pillow, and moved the glass. Then he sat down, held his hand and listened, and Clair-de-Lune felt that Brother would be content to sit here with him for life. It looked up
looked at Brother's eyes, and tears fell down his cheeks, into his hair, which was scattered around the pillow, like a halo.
“And all this time, have you ignored your lesson?” ask Brother Inchmahome softly.
Again Clair-de-Lune shook his head.
“Ah!” brother Inchmahome. “Kurasa no. Looks like you're back from your long journey, bringing answers! Well, my dear,” he added very gently, “we still have days to talk about it. We don't need to talk about it now. Maybe later if you're stronger.”.
Seriate...