CLAIR DE LUNE'S
Part 8's

“Ah, Good morning, Mademoiselle Clair-de-Lune! I hope you don't mind waking up to a nina bobo song! It's not entirely logical, waking people up with lullabies. But I want to wake you up specifically, because I know you're sad. This is not the time to surprise you. Actually, I don't think it's worth it. Now before we leave—because I offered my services to take you to see my friend, Brother Inchmahome, if you have time (and we have to go back before dance practice)— I have to tell you something."

“When I sneaked here half a minute ago, my eyes caught something so beautiful—a silver bird with a red and gold heart to your bedpost! Actually I wanted to say hello to him and see him better—but, after painstakingly climbing your blanket, I reached your headboard (not many people appreciate the athleticism of rats!) the bird got up, surprised and flew through the window."

“The bird is yours huh? I hope he's not lost. But, since you didn't put it in a cage (and it's worth appreciating— I don't agree to keep the bird in the cage) surely he's used to coming and going... Yuk, we're leaving?”

Clair-de-Lune got up carefully, so as not to damage the position of the blanket. A bird? He did not understand, and could not ask the mouse to explain. Even so, his heart was pounding, because the mouse was giving news about an old friend who had long disappeared.

Clair-de-Lune quickly got dressed. He did not like to think about what his grandmother thought of this incredible journey. But, this morning he woke up with new strength, new clarity, new certainty about what to do. No one she knew could help her. No one she knew, would help her. But perhaps—by a miracle—someone he did not know, could…

The only thing that scared her was that her grandmother woke up and blocked her.

“Follow me!” the mouse said when he was ready.

They crawled on the floor of the roof basement, passed by Clair-de-Lune's still-asleep grandmother, went out the door, and arrived at the embroidery. Bonaventure moved nimbly, lightly, and gracefully, stopping and stepping like a dancer, while Clair-de-Lune's steps were hesitant, nervous, and stumbling, even though she was a dancer. Once out of the apartment, Clair-de-Lune closed the door so slowly that it seemed that this stage of departure took no less than five minutes.

But her grandmother still slept.

So, they started down the stairs, a long journey.

And so begins the extraordinary and unimaginable Clair-de-Lune experience.

Clair-de-Lune often climbed up and down the stairs. But, he had never seen her so early in the morning. In the dim light of dawn, it looked different—so different that he was afraid of losing his guide (because Bonaventure was walking so fast, not on the steps but jumping up and down the steps). He had to stop and look at everything more closely. Because, while walking down, he still saw something with his eye tail—something that shouldn't exist.

Where there should be ladders—why is there damp cloth now?

Where there should be a space—why now there is a cave containing moss?

And at the end of a short corridor, why did he faintly see a waterfall?

Suddenly, Clair-de-Lune felt like he had to stop stepping, whether or not there was Bonaventure. He stood under a row of stairs, calmed himself, then looked up.

Could—maybe…

Was it the gray, cloudy dawn sky, or just the ceiling of a building from a distance?

“Mademoiselle!” call Bonaventure.

Doesn't he know every floor in that building? But he clearly doesn't know if he's ever been here. For in front of him he saw the most beautiful new door. It was so old, so beautifully carved, and he knew, in his whole life he had never seen it.

Bonaventure beckoned to approach. Then, all of a sudden, it disappeared under the door, whose bottom edge ended about two inches from the floor. For a moment Clair-de-Lune thought the mouse was telling her to follow in his footsteps. But then, slowly, the door opened.

Clair-de-Lune stepped back in awe.

In front of him, slapping all the way to the doorway, there was a dense garden. Over there, there's a cliff. Over there again, the sea! And up, the sky! And, a little to the right, the gray surface of a mountain slope, into which is engraved—a monastery!

Clair-de-Lune shuddered in the sudden blowing sea breeze.

“Come, Mademoiselle!” call Bonaventure with a loud voice, his voice almost lost between the sound of the waves below them and the garden— filled with birds— in front of them. “Follow me!”

Clair-de-Lune stared down, at his feet. The foot was treading on a dull plank in this unknown doorway. Right in front of him, the grass twisted. He lifted his leg, though,

set it on the grass, and, in three steps, pass through the door. Suddenly, he felt the soft morning sun warm his face. It's outside! Outside! But…

Heads circling. He closed his eyes. Then he looked behind her.

It looks like he just came out of a cave. The damp gray stone around the entrance was rough-edged and mossy; the doorway was empty, it seemed so dark that from it nothing appeared. Really, the darkness he left behind was so dense that it almost frightened him.

Where's his house? Where is the building where he lived all his life? Could it be confined within a cave on a mountain slope?

But where is he now? How could this sky, this sea, this garden, this mountain, this monastery, be hidden behind an old stone door?

But, where was there something truly shocking in this strange world?

He turned away in astonishment and followed the small figure of Bonaventure who stepped swiftly on the grass; past the wildflowers, bushes and trees, the edge of the ravine and the blue sea on his left side, which was even wider and free from its shadow, plus the vast sky above it, wherever the eye looked.

Inhaling with difficulty, he followed the mouse to the door of the convent—which was carved into the side of the mountain—and waited, his heart pounding so fascinated, as the mouse slipped under the door.

The door immediately opened, and looked an old monk, with Bonaventure perched on his shoulder.

Seriate…