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At the Wonkas’ factory:
Willy
*laughs, tears streaming down his face, he runs over to Manouche* Thank you, thank you. *hugs her, realizes she's
weak* Manouche ... *suddenly police come running in, stopping dead at the door,
looking around, then at Madame, Willy turns and crawls over to her body, picking up her head* Baby ... please ... come
back to me ... *presses his forehead against hers and cries* Please ... I can't
do this on my own. *meanwhile, the police run over and begin to do their best to stop the blood flow, others
come to Manouche's aid and help her relax. Another policeman grabs a walkie-talkie,
sends a message that Madame is being rushed over to the hospital*
Willy
*squeezing Madame's hand, still in the same position, crying over her* Please .... please god please
Manouche *pushes away the
police hovering around her* Bloody 'ell, don't crowd me, mates, I know y' mean well ... *she slips from the chair,
comes over to Willy and Madame, drops down to the floor beside Madame, eyes wide* Oh,
god … *she takes Madame’s other hand in hers, tears in her eyes* C’mon,
Madame, love, none o’ this. We can’t ‘ave it. Y-ye ‘ave too much t’ do to be checkin’ out so early.
*then she remembers the vision she shared with Abberline earlier, of all of them at Chez Roux, the children playing
on the beach, and she smiles. She keeps holding Madame’s hand, then reaches
for one of Willy’s hands, concentrates. She’s very weary, and Willy’s
not a dreamer, but his senses are keen, so she tries to share some semblance of the vision with him* S’all right, brother, she’ll be sound … I know it …
Willy *tears subside for
a minute, he suddenly sees them all on the beach, he cries again, suddenly ambulance men arrive on the scene and three police
men move Willy away, two move Manouche, Willy screams for them to let go, but it doesn’t work and he finally gives way.
The ambulance men move Madame onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask is over her face, her coat lies in a pool of blood on
the floor. They take her out immediately, Willy follows close behind*
Manouche *looks around the
room, it’s suddenly empty, everyone’s gone to the hospital; it all happened so fast, it was like a strange dream,
and now to be alone in the room is very surreal. She slowly stands up, takes
a few steps, then drops back into the chair. She brings a hand up to her eyes,
then feels someone next to her; she turns, sees one of the oompas standing by her side*
Ahh, ‘evenin’, mate. D-do ye think ye could … y-think
ye could find Cameron, ‘ave him drive me home? I … I’m so tired,
I don’t quite feel right. I … I don’t think I could ‘andle
th’ hospital right now, I’ll go a bit later. Madame’s gonna
pull through, I know it, an’ Willy’s right there with ‘er. Alifi'll know what t' do fer me, an' I
reckon I owe her an explanation … *she winces at his reproachful expression*
Aye, I know I shouldn’t ‘ave worried ‘er like that! But
what if I hadn’t, ay? *Oompa relents, shrugs, bows slightly, leaves room. A few minutes later, he returns, indicates for her to come with him. She stands up, he helps her down to the front of the factory, where Cameron is waiting with one of the
cars. She turns to the oompa, digs in her pocket*
B-blimey, no cocoa beans … how ‘bout a lottery ticket, mate? *grins* Ye may ‘ave heard that I ‘ave a knack fer ‘em every now an’
then. *peers at it, squinting, reads the date*
It’s about eight months old, they’re good fer a year, so don’t wait too long t’ check its numbers,
savvy? *she hands the ticket to the oompa, he smiles the tiniest of smiles, bows,
helps her into the car. Cameron starts up the car, takes her back home*
At Bournemouth House:
Ichy *starts to prepare himself
early in the morning for the ... for fetching Miranda, he does not dare to call it a date, and finally when he is ready, he
stops and looks at himself in the mirror to see that everything is as it should, his shirt clean white and crisp, every
hair in order, no dust on the coat ... With a serious expression he tucks a white embroidered handkerchief into
his pocket and leaves the apartment, and with a racing heart rings the doorbell of Bournemouth House*
Abberline *opening the door,
with his inevitable cigarette in his hand, runs his other hand through his hair to get it off from his eyes* What the hell are you doing here? If you
believe that you can go on bothering my wife, I show you ...
Ichy*musters all his dignity* Inspector, I am here for an entirely other reason.
Abberline: And what would that be? *moves closer to him*
Ichy *slightly trembling
but he doesn't back off, waving away the smoke* Really, you should
not smoke when there are children in the house.
Abberline *smirks* Ah, the legal guardian shows up, I see. Get
home, you bloody idiot. I don't care a damn for that paper.
Ichy *very carefully, slowly
and patiently* I have an ... an .. appointment, Inspector. Can I please
see Mira. I will wait for her here.
Abberline *incredulously*
Miranda? What the hell is this? For what?
Ichy *still patient and polite* She promised to me that I could take her to the park today.
Abberline: What? *slams the doors shut, goes to the kitchen, where
Miranda is preparing breakfast* Do you know Constable Crane? I think that he is asking you out. I can't allow it.
Miranda *Startled, the pan
she's holding slips from her hand, crashes to the floor. She stares at Abberline* Please, what happened before wasn't his fault.
I need him. *Sorrowfully* You
didn't send him away did you? Is it wrong for me to have what I've longed for
these many years. *Tearfully* I'm
sorry, I have to see him. Please understand.
*Grabs the picnic basket that she'd already prepared and runs for the door.*
Abberline: No, of course
it isn't wrong, but I don't like that it is him. You could have found
someone ... *he means to say better, but looks at her miserable face and stops* Are
you sure that you want to go? *follows her to the door, puts his hand on her
shoulder* All right, if it is so important, you may go, but be back in time or you make me worried, promise me! *he opens the door for her, turns to Ichy*
I expect her to be back in good time. And I warn you - don't do anything
stupid.
Ichy: I will treat her with respect, Inspector. *Takes her
hand* Are you ready, Mira, the flowers and the butterflies are waiting for us. I took my microscope with me to show you the wonders of the nature ....
Abberline *interrupts him* You will do no such thing! *mutters to
himself* Flowers and butterflies … next it will be birds and bees ... Be
careful, Miranda.
Ichy *offers her his arm
and smiles at her*
Miranda *Looks at Abberline
with relief on her face.* Thank you, this means much to me. *Turns to Ichy smiling brightly and takes his arm.* I
feel like it's been a life time since last night. *Looks up into his eyes.*
Will you show me to your Eden, kind sir?
Ichy *dazed at her bright
smile feels his knees go weak* I will.
You will love the place, Mira. Can I carry the basket for you?
At Bournemouth House:
Abberline *looks at them
wandering away, goes in to the bedroom to Kat* Your Ichy took Miranda out. I don't like this at all. He acted like a lovesick puppy. I don't want him running here anymore.
Kat: Ichy with Miranda? *For an instant jealousy flares up within
her she stiffens. It vanishes completely as she gazes at Abby. She smiles, puts her arms around him* He's not my Ichy, luv
and if he and Miranda be wantin' to see each other, I see no cause te interfere. *Whispers in his ear* Besides I'd much rather be seein' ye actin' the lovesick puppy. *Smiles beguilingly.*
Abberline *noticing the quick
flicker* You have still feelings for him, I see.
*but then he checks himself and counts to ten, decides not to continue* Never
mind the bugger, I may be lovesick, but I am not a puppy ... *brings his hand on her belly* I am grateful that you are carrying my baby, that I can have a child with you ... You know,
I have realized that one of the most beautiful sights in this world is a radiant expecting mother. Especially in a silk slip. *leans in on her to kiss her and push her back to the bed*
Kat *Passionately returns
his kiss backing towards the bed, kisses his neck, goes on to nibble his ear and whisper.*
Ye be a 'ard man te resist, Fred Abberline, and no one could e'er mistake ye for a puppy, my love. *Kisses him harder, pulls him to the bed, proceeds to make tatters of his shirt.*
*Off stage*
Director *Calls* Cut and print. It's a wrap.
Stage hand: Hang it! Who the blazes let him out? I had him locked in the props room.
Ichy and Miranda’s date:
Ichy *takes the basket and
leads her across the town to the public garden park of Sheldon the florist, and it is exactly as Ichy described it, full of
flower beds and butterflies flitting in the air.* Would you like to see first
the stables of Luc nearby? He gives riding lessons, but he also takes care of
my dear old Gunpowder. You will love the old gentle horse when you see it.
I feel so happy that I am able to walk here with you. This is my favourite
place in Deppville, because it reminds me of my mother's garden. I could spend hour wandering here around. And when we grow tired, we can settle for picnic on the meadow nearby, under the shade
of a tree in perfect peace. You will really love this, Mira, all the park
with the beautiful flowers of Sheldon, but … *clears throat and looks at her shyly* … but none of them
is as beautiful as you.
Miranda *Gazing into his
eyes* You are everything a girl dreams of in her most secret heart. It is truly lovely here. *Hesitates, softly touches his face* But then I believe anywhere would be, as long as I were with you. *Looks quickly away* Forgive me, that's too bold. I know we've only recently met, but the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I had long hoped to meet.
Ichy *looks at her and gets
lost in her eyes* I feel like I have known you for long, Mira. *carefully leans in on her and gives her a very light kiss on the cheek* You flatter me, I can't believe my luck that I can be here with you.
*blushes, feeling confused, takes her hand and starts to explain her the Latin names of plants as they walk on,
now and then stealing a glance at her*
At the hospital:
Willy *after a few hours
still waits for news on his wife, who went into surgery immediately after they arrived. He stares across the hallway
at a white wall and reflects on the images Manouche shared with him. He smiles as tears form in his eyes. His
thoughts are interrupted when a doctor comes out of the surgery room and asks his name*
Yes?
Doctor: We retrieved
the bullet, Mr. Wonka. Your wife is okay.
Willy *stands up, tears stream
down his face. He hugs the doctor, who hugs him back* Thank you so much.
Doctor: It’s
the least we could do. Now she's still sleeping, she might be for a number of hours. But she's okay. You
can go in and see her now.
Willy *lets go, nods, wiping
away tears. The doctor leads him into the back and into a hospital room occupied by only a lifeless Madame. He
smiles at her peaceful expression and takes her hand. He sits down in a chair only a few inches away from the bed.
The doctor quietly leaves the room, Willy looks at her face with awe, smiling still, caressing her hand with his thumb.
He speaks softly to her* Kimberley ... I'm so glad your okay love ...... *his expression becomes sorrowful as he
regrets everything he ever did that concerned Jake. He looks at her again and still quietly speaks* Please forgive
me .......
Alifi *peeks into the room* Willy? Willy, dear, I’ve come to
see Madame … I was planning to come with Manouche, but as it turns out, I’m representing her for now. She’s not quite well enough to come herself just yet, she hopes she’ll be here tomorrow. *she enters the room, comes up to Willy, puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, looks
at Madame, concerned* The doctor told me Madame will be all right. Try not to worry too much if she doesn’t wake up for awhile, that’s to be expected …
*looks at Willy* You must tell me how this happened, when you feel up to it ...
Willy *doesn’t look
at her, pats her hand on his shoulder* Thank you for coming by, Alifi. *pauses for a few minutes, looks up at Madame again* I want
to be her when she wakes up. I ... I'm afraid to leave. *places his head in his hands* I can't believe this
is happening. I ... I can't believe how stupid I was.
Alifi *pulls up a chair,
sits next to him, speaks gently* Willy, try not to waste energy worrying about
what’s done. Now I don’t know exactly what happened, and you can
feel free to tell me as little or as much as you want … but you must forgive yourself. Madame will pull through, and I’m sure she’ll forgive you, if she hasn’t already. *pauses* Manouche didn’t tell me
much of anything. I tried to ask her, and she just got impatient with me, all
she said was, “it’s all sorted.” All that fuss to sneak out
last night to get to you, and then she wouldn’t even tell me what happened once she got there. I figured I would ask her again after she’s had some rest.
She’s had her own crisis while you and Madame had yours … she was in the soul box for a time. She was successful, it’s no longer dangerous … but the experience was hard on her, so it’ll
take her a little time to recover …
Willy *tears fill his eyes
again, he lays his forehead on Madame's hand* I screwed up so much, Alifi. *looks
at her* Jake held us captive in the factory. He and I went to high school
together. I revealed his name to the cops when they questioned about a locker full of drugs and a drive-by shooting
that I had some involvement in. He came now because I have everything and he had nothing. It was all my fault
to him. He shot Madame when she tried to call for help. Then Manouche came and shot him. *cries again*
If only I had told Kim ... if only we had done something beforehand for protection. Now Kim's half dead and I wasn't
there to protect my sister from getting hurt. *squeezes Madame's hand* I … I screwed up so much, Alifi.
Alifi *listens sympathetically,
eyes widen as he finishes. She’s quiet for a few minutes, taking it all
in, then she takes Willy’s hand* Willy, tell me this … what could
you have done to prevent this? The factory has more security than any other place in town, except maybe Chateau
Blanchefort. Yes, you could’ve told Kim about it, but it’s easy to
see why you wouldn’t. That was a long time ago, and it’s an unhappy
story. How could you have possibly known he would resurface after all these years
to try to ruin your life? You couldn’t have seen it coming, luv. Even if you had told this story to Kim at some point, the two of you would’ve talked about
it, and then soon it would’ve been forgotten. Jake’s appearance here
would’ve still been a surprise. Sounds to me like the crime you’re
most guilty of is not disclosing everything from your past, and that’s no crime.
*she squeezes his hand* Most of us have one or two scenarios from our
past that we prefer to forget. Sometimes things just happen, Willy. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent this. As
it is, you’ve both come out of it alive, Kim will be all right … and you don’t have to worry about him ever
bothering you again. And don’t go adding your sister to things to feel
guilty about, savvy? Manouche will be just fine, I promise. *smiles*
Willy:
*remains a bit unconvinced, but feels better about it.* I will forever feel guilty, Alifi. But I'm just so glad
she's okay. *looks at Madame's sleeping face again* She's been asleep for a day, Alifi. *looks at Ailfi*
I'm just so glad it won't be forever. *smiles, jumps suddenly as he feels a grip
on his hand, he looks down and realizes Madame's hand is squeezing his. He quickly looks up and sees her eyes slowly
begin to open. He stands up and hovers over her* Kimberley?
Madame
*slowly opens her eyes, sees Willy's face, smiles a little bit, tries to lift her hand, but is too weak, when she speaks,
her voice is harsh and raspy, she breathes in between words* Willy ....
Willy
*laughs, tears fall on her blanket, he kisses her forehead*
Madame:
No .. I want ... a kiss ... here. *slowly
lifts her hand to her lips. *Willy giggles, leans down and they kiss deeply for
a minute, then he pulls away and they smile at each other. After a minute, Madame
finally turns a bit to look at the person next to him* Hello ... Alifi ...
Alifi: Hello,
dear … don’t talk too much, save your strength. *brings a cool hand to Madame's face, touches it gently,
nods as if satisfied* Yes, you're going to be just fine. *smiles* What were you thinking, worrying us like
that ... you didn’t think you were going to get away from us, did you?
*winks at Willy*
Madame *gives a harsh laugh*
I wasn't ... planning to. *breathes heavy for a minute, then talks again*
I have ... 3 kids ... Alifi … *rolls eyes* It's ... a bit hard ... to leave now.
Willy *laughs* I'm just glad you didn’t, darling.
Madame *face grows serious*
Did you … get the bastard?
Willy *nods* Manouche killed him.
Madame *laughs* She ...
Willy: … got your call ... she saved me, love. *Madame sighs
with satisfaction, closes eyes, still holding on to Willy's hand*
Alifi:
Shh, Madame, don't talk too much ... we'd better get you a pad and pen. I suppose it'll be like that time you had the
flu, Manouche told me about it, how you had to write everything down because you lost your voice ... *her smile fades*
Did you say she ... she killed him? She killed Jake? Oh dear ... I'm certainly glad she got there in time.
I suppose the police would've been too late. So she rescued you, and in her weakened state ... *shakes her head*
Her life has been many things, but it's certainly seldom been dull ...
Madame *tries to yell, but
it only sounds like a loud screech* I refuse ... to use ... that stupid ... technique … AGAIN!!!
Willy *laughs, covers her
mouth* It is true, Madame hated using the paper and pen. *thinks about Manouche while listening to Alifi, decides
to try and lighten things up a bit with a small joke* Remind me to send her a fruit basket! *giggles; Madame smiles,
looks innocently at him, he sighs* I know, I know. I'll figure something
out. But in the meantime, you may want to do your best to take good care of her, Alifi. She's like Madame ...
not exactly the "sit down" type …
Alifi: Don’t I know it. *stands up* I don’t want to tire you, dear, so I’ll be on my way, leave you two alone
for awhile. I’m sure Manouche will be here to see you as soon as she can
… but who knows, hopefully you’ll be home before then. *turns to
Willy* We have our work cut out for us, don’t we, Willy? You taking care of Madame, me looking after Manouche … it’s a full-time job. *she smiles, kisses his cheek, then reaches over and squeezes Madame’s hand* See you both soon, take care. *turns, leaves the room*
Willy
*smiles as she leaves, then turns back, places a hand on Madame’s cheek, grins* I'm so glad your okay. I'm
so sorry I did this to you.
Madame
*shakes head* It's ... not your ... fault, Willy. He .. did ... what caused him ... to get ..... caught .. not
you. *Willy smirks, smoothes a thumb over her smiling cheek, leans in and kisses
her passionately*
On The Brave:
Donnie: *after listening to O’Malley telling about the vision; stares at her for a while without
saying anything, fear written in his face* Wow!
O’Malley *nods* Aye …
Donnie: And Father Connolly was there? *Muttering* I knew something wasn’t right about that
guy! Did you recognize the woman in the Circle?
O’Malley *lowers her eyes* No, I don’t
know who she was.
Donnie *rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh* It was
you, wasn’t it? I mean, that makes sense. That’s
why Father Connolly is here and why he’s so keen on training you and wanting to know everything about your powers.
O’Malley *quietly* Aye, it makes sense …
but I don’t understand it. I wasn’t tied up or anythin’, it
was like I was doin’ it voluntarily an’ I would ne’er do that!
Donnie: Are you going to confront him about it?
O’Malley *shakes her head slowly; thoughtfully* No,
not yet. I need te find out more about the mechanics o’ the ritual an’
what it does … I can tell ye it’s nothing good! *Shudders at the
thought of how she felt when getting the vision*
Donnie *Nods* OK … *glaring at her* You aren’t going to hire Corso again, are you?
O’Malley: Bloody ‘ell, no! *Smiles mischievously* But I may ‘ave te borrow one or
two o’ his precious books with ev’ry intention o’ bringin’ ‘em back.
Donnie: That kind of borrowing could get you arrested.
O’Malley *shrugs* If I’m the key, then
they can’t do the bloody ritual while I’m in the lock-up.
Donnie: True … and I suppose in this case you
have good reason for “borrowing”.
O’Malley: I reckon I do.
In a small cabin in Sleepy Hollow Woods:
F Connolly *enters the cabin; a group of men is sitting around a wooden table filled with old papers,
books, and newly-written pages; nods shortly to the men; takes a seat by the table*
1st man *looks at F Connolly with anticipation; impatiently* So … any news?
F Connolly *Smiles satisfactorily* The Stone Circle
by the castle will do. *turns serious* But
it is heavily guarded. The premises are filled with surveillance cameras; we
can’t do it without being discovered. I think we have to get permission
from the owner.
1st man: Oh right, that Commander Portsmith
you mentioned.
F Connolly *Nods; rises from the chair and goes to a small stow in the corner and pours a mug of
hot water from the kettle, puts a teabag in the mug and returns to the table*
2nd man: What about the girl? Is she the one we need?
F Connolly: According to the old prophecies, it must
be a woman, Irish of course … daughter of witches and shamans. It all fits.
2nd man: Good. Do you think she’s ready? Is she strong enough?
F Connolly: Aye, she is strong. *frowns* Maybe too strong. The
shaman side of her is not a problem for us, but combined with witchcraft … she could fight us, if she’s smart
enough.
1st man: Doesn’t really matter. The scripts clearly state that the 13th must perform the ritual of her own
free will … and also, it would be difficult to make someone summon such powers by force.
2nd man: True enough.
F Connolly: She’ll never do it voluntarily …
we’ll need to give her the right sentiments. *Glares at the 1st
man* And bloody hell, there’s nothing clear about those scripts! We know how to do the ritual, we know the results, but not the cost. There is always a cost. *1st man lowers his eyes*
2nd man: Any ideas on how to make her do
it?
F Connolly: I’ll think of something.
At Rartigillichal:
Manouche *in
the breakfast room with a cup of coffee and a plate of croissants, hears someone at the door.
Remembers that Alifi is still at the hospital, goes to answer it, smiles as she opens it* Armand … blimey, it’s good t’ see ye. What
y’ got there, luv?
Armand *carrying
a small tree, its roots bound in burlap, sets it down carefully* It’s a
gift for your yard … it’s a dwarf apple tree. Cinnamon Spice apples,
really good.
Manouche *raises
eyebrows* Wh-what’s that fer, ye didn’t ‘ave to bring a gift
…
Armand: I wanted to. I wanted to do something
for you. It’s not nearly enough, considering what you did for me, but …
well, I thought, something for your home. A proper yard should have a proper
apple tree. It’s bareroot, ready to plant, and we’re coming up on
a perfect time to plant it. These do well in the fall in this climate.
Manouche *touches
one of the little branches, smiles* I’ll ‘ave t’ read up on
it, make sure I find th’ proper place fer it. *she turns to him, embraces
him, kisses his cheek* Y’ really didn’t ‘ave to do that, but
… I … I love it, mate, it’s beautiful. *releases him, holds
the door open* C’mon in, ‘ave some coffee.
Armand *follows
her into the kitchen, she pours coffee for him and refreshes her own cup* I’ve
been wondering how you were … hadn’t heard anything from you in awhile … *she leads him into the breakfast
room, they sit at the table and he looks at her carefully* Have you been ill?
Manouche: Aye, somethin’ like that … *reaches over to the plate of croissants* ‘Ere, luv, ‘ave one o’ these, jus’ made ‘em a little
while ago. *grins* No worries, I
ain’t contagious.
Armand *laughs* I wasn’t worried. *takes a croissant,
tries it, nods* You must be feeling better if you can work this kinda magic.
Manouche: Ye jus’ earned yerself another one, smooth talker! Ahh, before I ferget … *she leaves the room, returns in a few minutes with the book he loaned her* I want t’ return this to ye.
Armand: Oh, good, thanks. Pretty interesting
stuff, eh?
Manouche *nods* Very. Enlightenin’, in a manner
o’ speakin’ … *sips coffee*
Armand *finishes
croissant, reaches for another* I, ahh, also wanted to come see you so I could
… say goodbye …
Manouche *looks
at him quickly* Y-yer leavin’, then?
I hate t’ see ye go, luv.
Armand: I was going to stay longer, I’ve been enjoying it here … but I got word
from my sister, she’s … she’s not well … she hasn’t been for awhile, but now it’s worse
…
Manouche *concerned* Oh, I’m sorry t’ hear that. *looks
at him* It’s serious, innit?
Armand *nods* She’s acting like it isn’t, but … it is. She’s finally starting to admit it … she must be, if she actually contacted me, asking me to
come be with her … *lowers his eyes*
Manouche *reaches
out, takes his hand* Don’t give up, savvy?
An’ tell ‘er that, as well. Y’ never know with these
things.
Armand *nods,
puts his other hand over hers* I know, positive thinking, all that. It could be worse, she’s not alone. Her husband’s
a great guy, and she has a daughter who’s surprisingly grown up for a teenager.
*looks up at her, smiles* Your little friend reminds me of her, in a way
… that boy who was here … Raven, is it? *she nods* He’s like that too, I could tell. Some kids just grow
up faster than others, I guess.
Manouche: Sometimes they don’t ‘ave much choice, an’ that’s a pity.
Raven’s quite a wonder. I’m glad yer sister has a daughter who can
be all that to ‘er. *stands up* Wait
‘ere, mate, I’ll be right back. *she leaves the room, goes to her
little alchemy lab off the kitchen, closes the door behind her. She soon emerges,
comes back into the breakfast room, hands Armand a small packet* ‘Ere,
this is a lil’ somethin’ that may ease ‘er pain a bit. I don’t
reckon it’ll work wonders, but it may do ‘er some good … an’ it certainly won’t do ‘er
any harm. Tell ‘er to brew it up, like tea leaves. If nothin’ else, I can pretty much guarantee she’ll like th’ taste.
Armand *looks
at the packet, sniffs it, raises eyebrows* That smells wonderful. *tucks it away into a pocket, looks at her, grins* I don’t
think I’ll even ask you what it is.
Manouche *laughs* Ye know me well enough, don’t ye? Trade
secret, I don’t divulge. *looks at his cup*
Y’ want a refill?
Armand: No, I better get going. I’ve already
checked out of Chez Roux and the ship’s ready to go. *points toward the
front of the house* I have a car out there that I need to return. *he stands up*
Manouche *steps
into the kitchen, grabs a bag, brings it back to the table, puts the rest of the croissants into it, hands it to him* Well, take somethin’ fer th’ road, then.
*Armand nods his thanks, they walk to the front door* Keep in touch, all
right? We didn’t get t’ spend nearly enough time together. Write t’ me, if yer keen, an’ let me know how yer sister fares.
I … I hope ye can come back sometime …
Armand *smiles* Oh, I’ll be back. *they stand in
the open doorway, he motions toward the tree* I have to come back and see how
this little guy is doing, and to try some of those apples.
Manouche: We’ll be ready fer ye.
Armand *sets
the bag of croissants down, pulls her close, takes her into his arms, kisses her, then looks into her eyes* Steady on, Captain Roussel. Step lightly … savvy?
Manouche *smiles,
touches his face gently* Aye, ye do th’ same, mate. *he releases her, grabs the bag, she watches from the doorway as he gets in the car, pulls away from the
house with a final wave. She watches till he’s out of sight, sighs, then
looks at the little tree. She touches one of the branches again, lovingly, smiles,
goes back into the house, closes the door*
At Bournemouth House:
Abberline *with
Kat in the kitchen, having his usual breakfast of coffee and cigarettes, staring out of the window, trying to suppress his
feelings of both being bored and restless, not understanding where that comes from, after all he has been very content with
his new life* I should not have let Miranda go out with Constable Crane. I don't understand how you still can like him, he's just a bloody fool. *stirs his coffee for a while* But that was not what I had
in mind. There's something else I have been thinking of, since you tried to run
away with him. *pauses, looks at her* You
are not going to like this, but I want us to have a proper marriage ceremony, performed by a real priest in a church, with
a reception afterwards, and I want you to wear a white bridal gown and a veil and a bouquet of dark red roses ... We could do that after Chiana is born and invite all Deppville. Do
it for me.
Kat *Gasps*
Be ye daft! We be already properly
married and it were not I that were tryin' te run off with Ichy! *With fire in
her eyes and a sharp edge in her voice.* That be it, innit, ye blame me for that
and ye
be wanting
te humiliate me in front of all Deppville!!! I WANT 'AVE IT!!! YE 'AVE NO LOVE FOR ME. IT BE A LIE! *Tears streaming down
her face* It's all been a lie, 'asn't it?
*Flees upstairs to the bedroom, slamming and locking the door*
Abberline *sighs, then follows
her reluctantly, hits the door* All right, I admit that it was not fair, it was
not you. But you called him in and tried to make him not to leave. So it was humiliating for you to marry me? You should have
told earlier to me how you feel. A lie, yes, everything is just a lie …
But it is well that I know now. I am going out.
Kat *Opening
the door.* Ye be twistin' me words now. It
were nay humiliatin' te marry ye. But te 'ave te go through all the girly
type wedding would be shamin' te me, and ye know it. Ye be tryin' te 'urt me.
If ye go, twill be provin' it!!!
Abberline: I don't understand you. What would be so humiliating in a formal,
proper wedding ceremony? If you don't want to do it for me it proves that you
don't really care for me at all. I could imagine that any other woman would love
that. Not you. I am just shaming
you if you have to stand by me at the altar. You call that hurting you? It must be the hormones talking. I know
that pregnant women get to be difficult. You can cool yourself, and I hope you
will have a different opinion when I come back.
Kat *Shouting
after him* I'll bloody well be changin' me mind and standin' at yer side for
that iffen ye stand at me side for the birthin' and be survivin' that event, eh????
Abberline *stops
and returns* I don't understand what good my presence would be there, but ...
I will. I will be there with you. I
promise. And later on, you and I will be properly wed, the way I want it. With the white dress and veil. You promise? It is important to me. *looks at her
intently*
Kat *Gritting her teeth* Aye we 'ave an accord, mate. Ye'll 'ave yer proper weddin' and ye can rest assured I will na be forgettin' that veil. Just why be it so blasted important te ye? I see naught wrong
with the I do's that we be already done.
Abberline: I don't like your attitude. That wedding wasn't much of a start,
was it? Of course it is good that we already are married, otherwise my daughter
would be born illegitimate and without my name, but otherwise I don't feel this is as it should. To me, it was not the proper wedding, though it is legally valid, but it is not approved by the church.
I don't feel it is right. And you
have to admit that our wedding was not much of an occasion, nothing you want to remember. Thanks
to you. And you have to promise me that you will behave properly, no tricks,
no temper tantrums, no sulking ....
Kat: Just see that yer not for lookin' for no encores for that fancy schmancy weddin' ye got yer 'eart set on,
eh???
Abberline: I didn't hear that, Kat. You can start planning the wedding
dress with that friend of yours, what was she called, Dora? She seemed to be
very sensible. A proper white long dress with a veil, that is what I want you
to wear. You can discuss with her what the bridesmaids are going to wear. *frowns* Though there are some problems.
You have to find someone to give you away. And
what shall we do about the rings? And the place of the reception .... Think about it, Kat. *turns and walks down the stairs*
Kat *Glares
after him, mutters under her breath* That's right luv, just be leavin' all te
me. *Grins wickedly*
*And now,
a few entertaining asides to the audience, lol:*
Abberline: No tricks, or there will be a quick divorce in Catalina if she shames him.
Kat:
No worries mate, no tricks. But think about it. 'e just put a pirate in charge of them weddin' preparations,
eh? ROFL .... Now I be thinkin' 'is idea on what's bein' proper be a world
away fro' what hers are. Savvy???
Abberline:
She will be in great trouble he doesn't approve of it. Maybe it's best that he takes care of the preparations and she
of her dress - WITH Dora, that is. After all she is not a pirate.
Kat:
It seems te me that springin' all this on 'is pregnant wife isn't very gentlemanly of 'im anyhow.
Abberline:
But she can at least take care of her own dress, he has already given the directions, a traditional white bridal gown with
a veil. And a bouguet of dark red roses. Now that is not too much to ask, is it? Have you ever heard of a groom doing the
preparations? Maybe Miranda could take care of it all...
Kat: Miranda can mind 'er own business. Matter
of fact I already have some of them weddin' dresses to be choosin' fro'. *Tearfully*
But I don't expect 'e'd be interested in naught of my doin'. Perhaps I should just stand aside *sniffle* and be lettin'
ye and Miranda do as ye will and stay outta yer way. *Returns sorrowfully to
her room.*
At Rartigillichal:
Alifi *enters
house, finds Manouche curled up on the small couch in the sunroom, reading* Hello,
bird … how are you feeling?
Manouche *looks
up, smiles* Much better, luv. Did
y’see th’ lovely lil’ tree in front o’ th’ house? Armand
was ‘ere, an’ he brought as a gift. He’s … he's left
town. He needs t’ go an’ be with his sister, she’s not well.
*puts book down, stretches* How’s Madame?
Alifi: She’s going to be fine. She came
to while I was there, and she and Willy were as cozy as ever. All’s forgiven. *sits down in chair next to couch* She’s
looking forward to seeing you, but don’t feel badly that you couldn’t make it today. She understands, and I think she and Willy can use this time to themselves.
I told her you would probably be able to see her tomorrow. *pauses* Manouche, what exactly happened over there?
Manouche *runs
hand through her hair* I’m not sure.
I don’t even recall how I got there, it’s like a blur. It’s
almost like I felt at times in that box, except it weren’t bad-feelin’ like that were, savvy? But th’ sudden upheaval, an’ findin’ meself somewhere else, it were very similar. I hope that ain’t an after-effect o’ bein’ in th' blasted thing. *pauses, looks at Alifi* I swear, luv,
next thing I knew, I were standin’ in th’ factory, in th’ same room with Willy an’ that stranger,
an’ I knew if I didn’t do somethin’ drastic, I knew he was goin’ to kill Willy. So … I shot ‘im. He … he’s dead, ain’t
he? I – I ain’t .. killed anyone in a long time, not since me piracy
days …
Alifi: You had to do something. According to
Willy, he probably would’ve killed the whole family. *shakes her head* I didn’t know what to think when I came up to your room and you were gone …
Manouche: Aye, sorry to ‘ave worried ye like that, it weren’t fair to ye. But I were goin’ mad, I knew I ‘ad to get over there.
Alifi: Yes, I see that now, and I see you were right.
My judgment has been slipping lately, I feel badly that I didn’t listen to you and help you go there.
Manouche: Ahh, no worries about that, luv. Ye ‘ad
me best interests in mind, I know that. Don’t be too hard on yerself.
Alifi: I can’t help it, it was a terrible mistake, and it could’ve been a tragic
one. *looks at her* Which is why
I realize I need to leave for awhile …
Manouche: L-leave? Leave ‘ere? Wh-where’ll ye go?
Alifi: Back home for awhile, back to Fiji. You see, dear, many of us get our strength from a particular
place. I think you’re starting to understand that, with your home, here. And I see with my own eyes what this place does for you. Your recovery from the box has been remarkable, and I attribute at least some of it to your surroundings. I saw you perk up almost the minute the Inspector and I got you back here. Well, that’s how I am with my home. I don’t know,
maybe it’s more intense with you and me because we’re both Romany. When
a place calls to us strong enough for us to want to settle down, put down roots … then it’s got to be pretty special. So, I feel that I need to return for awhile, take care of a few things, and get my
strength back. I’ve been here for quite some time, and I’ve been
glad to do it. And I’ll be back, probably fairly soon. But … I find I need to go home. *turns to Manouche,
smiles* Do you understand, bird? And
are you recovered enough that you don’t mind my leaving you on your own? I’ll
stay a bit longer if you still need me. *reaches over, takes her hand*
Manouche *smiles* Blimey, I’ll always need ye, Alifi, luv.
But no, I’m fine, honestly, I’d tell ye if I weren’t. Please
go, do what ye need t’ do. *tears fill her eyes* I don’t know what I would’ve done without ye all this time …
Alifi: You would’ve fared better than you think.
Remember what the Inspector said the other night, how powerful you’ve become?
He’s right. You’ve learned a lot from the time I first started
teaching you, and you’ve been open and willing to learn. Your abilities
are extraordinary, and they just seem to increase with time. What I’m trying
to say is, I may have gotten the ball rolling for you, and I’ve assisted from time to time … but you’ve
done the hard work. And these things don’t go unrewarded.
Manouche *wipes
eyes* Wh-whatcha mean? Ye still
on about that bollocks that Ama mentioned?
Alifi *smiles* I see you haven’t forgotten it, either, for all that you refer to it as bollocks!
Manouche *snorts* Aye, well, we’ll see, won’t we?
*but she grins* Reckon I still believe in miracles an’ fairytales. That’ll come in handy when them triplets get old enough t’ listen to stories
from their Auntie Manouche, won’t it? *beams*
Alifi: I suppose. But just think, you won’t have to resort to pedestrian
fairytales with them. You’ll be able to tell them some of your own life
stories, much more exciting. *she gazes at her fondly* If you’re sure you’re sound for now, I think I’ll go.
Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?
Manouche: No, luv, I’m fine. Th’ sooner
ye go, th’ sooner ye can come back, savvy?
Alifi *stands
up* Then we’ll leave it at that.
Don’t get up, you’re so comfortable. *she leans down, hugs Manouche tightly, kisses
her cheek* Je toujours vous aimerai, le petit oiseau.
Manouche *hugs her, murmurs* T-tout mon amour, je ne vous oublierai jamais. * kisses her
cheek. Alifi releases her, she looks up at her, smiles, tears in her eyes* Y’will come back soon, won’t ye ?
Alifi: You’ll barely know I was gone. Now
please, bird, while I'm gone, try not to do anything … stupid. *grins at
Manouche’s indignant expression* Quit thinking it’s your duty to
save the world, you’ve done plenty for now, savvy? Stay home, rest, take
care of yourself. And if you’re a very good girl … *smiles broader*
… then maybe I’ll bring you a present.
Manouche *laughs* Long as it ain’t another blasted box, I’d love a souvenir from Fiji! *gazes at her* Safe travel, luv. *Alifi nods, smiles, turns and leaves the
room. A few minutes later, Manouche hears the front door close, and she sighs. She looks at the book beside her – a book on gardening, so she can learn how
to take care of her new apple tree – but she’s grown sleepy, so she puts it aside, stretches out on the couch
for a nap, and soon she’s asleep, the late afternoon sun casting shadows across the room*
At the hospital:
Britt *walking into one side
of the hospital with Tom holding Patrick and Clavo holding her hand, they walk down the hall. They pass a room and notice
Willy and Madame inside. They keep on walking and go to the front desk. The lady at the front desk has a name-tag with the
name, Celia*
Celia *asks kindly* Appointment?
Britt: Yes.
Celia *checks a few papers*
Ok, for Brittany Eileen and Patrick Ryan Hanson?
Britt: Yes.
Celia: You'll be in room
311, the doctor should be no more than fifteen minutes.
Tom: Thanks. *adjusts Patrick
and the diaper bag, Britt heads over to the elevators*
Clavo: Can I press the button?
Britt *smiles* Go ahead. *Clavo presses the Up arrow* ~ding! The elevator doors open.~ Britt
follows Clavo into the elevator. Clavo stands next to the older lady who's in the corner looking at Brittany and Tom in disgust. Tom stands in the opposite corner, next to Britt, holding Patrick close, he presses
the 3, the doors close and they start to move*
Lady *boldly* Are these children yours?
Britt *shocked* These two?
Not biologically.
Lady *rudely* You've adopted that many?
Britt *annoyed* I couldn't
see them without a home, Ma'am. *looks forward at the doors*
Lady *notices that she's expecting* Goodness me! And you're pregnant!
Tom *has had enough* Ma'am,
please, I'm going to say this as nicely as I can, but mind your own business. Our private life does not concern you. We are
simply sharing an elevator ride with you. *mumbles* and I hope it ends soon. *Britt
hears him, pats at his stomach, eyes go wide, her facial expressions yelling at him.
Tom swallows, looks forward at the doors. ~ding! The doors opens at Floor 2.~ Lady exits*
Lady 2 *enters, she's younger than the lady before.
She's kinder than the lady before also. This lady smiles at Tom and Britt and the children as she enters* My, what a beautiful
family you have there. I'm sure it'll be even more beautiful when you have that baby there. *smiles warmly*
Britt *glowing, smiles* I
think you muchly, Ma'am. *feels a kicking from inside her stomach* Oh my! *puts her hand to her stomach*
Tom *concerned* What is it?
Britt: The baby kicked, or
moved.
Tom *excited* Really? *puts
a hand to her stomach, feels her stomach bump against his palm* Oh, wow!
Lady 2: Is this the first time it's kicked or moved?
Britt: That I've noticed,
yes.
Lady 2: M..May I? *smiles*
Britt *smiles shyly* Sure.
Lady 2 *puts her hand gently on Britt's stomach, feels
a slight pushing against her palm as well* That's precious. *takes her hand away, looks over Brittany and the contents of her family* Absolutely
gorgeous. *~ding! The doors open at Floor 3.~
Tom smiles* You're a lucky man. *to Britt* You're a lucky
woman. Much luck to you both. God Bless. *exits*
Tom: Thank you, Ma'am.
Britt: Yes, thank you. *They
make their way to the Maternity Ward, finding room 311, they enter*
Doctor *looking at a folder
of papers* Welcome, Brittany. *looks over at Tom with Patrick* This must be the newest addition. Adoption?
Britt: Yes.
Doctor: Well, today we have
shots for Patrick and paperwork for you and your husband to fill out. *hands her a few packets of papers to fill out, she
takes Patrick from Tom, Tom and Brittany get the papers filled out. Doctor
gets Patrick all checked out and preps him for his shots. Wipes a spot on his thigh, gets the needle ready and band aids handy.
She pricks him with the first needle, he starts to cry. Britt cringes at his
cry* You can hold his hand and hover over him to calm him so he knows that everything
is safe. *Britt stands at the table, takes his hand. Doctor puts a round band aid on the first spot, preps the second spot on his other thigh, gets another
needle ready* You can talk to your husband if this bothers you too much and let
Pat keep a grip on your finger.
Britt *nods, remembers* Oh Tom, Alifi says, hi. *smiles, kisses
Pat's head as she gives him the other shot.*
Tom: Oh, did she? *Britt nods*
Doctor *puts a band aid on
Patrick's other thigh* All finished with Patrick. He is very healthy. With those shots, he might be a bit cranky and tired.
It should wear off in a couple of days. Three tops. Don't freak out if he's pooping a lot more, that's another thing that
can happen with the shots, but it's normal. *nods* Alright, now if you'll follow me. *leads them out the door, Tom holding
Patrick once again, and to a bigger room with an ultrasound* If you would Brittany *pats
the booth. Britt sits on it, lies back.
Doctor turns the lights down lower, lifts Britt's shirt showing her tummy* This'll be cold. *puts on the cold gel,
moves the probe around her stomach* Hmm, 4 months. You'll be noticing some moving around, maybe a kick, but not too hard.
The farther along the more noticeable the kick. *moves the probe around a bit more* All looks good, but quick question. Would
you like to know the sex now, maybe within the next month to be sure, or keep it a surprise until birth? *Britt looks at Tom*
Tom: It's up to you. I'm
all for what you want, Britt. If you want to know, we can find out as soon as we can. If you want it to be a surprise, then
we can wait until you deliver.
Doctor: The delivery date
will be around, March 2-5. Within the first week of March.
Britt: Well, it would be
interesting for it to be a surprise, but I think we can find out whenever possible.
Doctor *moves the probe around
a bit farther down her stomach* From what we can see now, *points to the monitor* this is the head, legs, arms, spine, and
from the looks of the monitor, she'll be as beautiful as her mother.
Britt: You can tell now?
Doctor: If couples can choose
the sex of their baby, I think it's safe to know the sex around 4 months or so. It would be more distinct later on during
your 4th month/earlier during your 5th month. You're 4 months, 1 week, I think it's safe to call the baby a girl. *wipes her
stomach off* Congratulations.
Britt: Thank you.
Doctor *helps her sit up*
You are very welcome. *They leave the hospital with a healthy family now and
a healthy baby girl on the way*
At Hansons’ house:
Tom: Well, I'll have Mom
come out and help paint and decorate the baby rooms upstairs. We need to have a room for Patrick upstairs and one for our
baby girl. Then we need to decorate and paint Clavo's room. But that 'we' doesn't include you. Paint fumes aren't good for
you or the baby, so mom will probably invite a few friends over to decorate, to our liking. Charlie will babysit Patrick and
Clavo, while I have a surprise for you. Well, two surprises, but the second comes a bit later.
In one o’ them thar U.D.s (undisclosed locations) – Marchand’s hideout
Marchand: … so, that’s where everything stands at the moment. Now, I know you have your own agenda, your own interests, and I respect that. Matter of fact, I think it’s better that way, despite the fact that it hasn't always worked out so
well with Nate. I don’t trust someone who comes to me a blank slate and
simply wants to help me, and has no personal stake in the outcome.
Carver *sitting
across from him, in one of two large chairs in the starkly furnished room* No
worries, there, mate … I ‘ave no shortage o’ agendas ‘ere in Deppville, savvy? I figure Loralee is on th’ back burner fer th’ time bein’, ‘aven’t seen hide
nor hair in a long time. But I ‘ave developed quite th’ interest
in this Miranda … *glowers* An’ I’ll say ‘ere an’
now I didn’t appreciate Kat an’ that blasted ‘usband o’ hers standin’ in me way.
Marchand: Ah, yes, the happy little couple … that would be Inspector Abberline. You’ll have to stand in line on that one, friend. I
have a score or two to settle with him myself. But first and foremost, it’s
the child I’m interested in … my grandchild, Chiana. *scowls* They may have ruined White Raven, but they won’t do the same with this one. She’s a healer baby, and I intend to see to it that her powers are not wasted,
like my grandson’s have been.
Carver: What about th’ mum? Ye’ll
‘ave a hard time with Kat …
Marchand *grins
unpleasantly* Well, Carver, I don’t suppose anyone would understand unless
he’s had children of his own. The father-daughter relationship is a complex
one … but there’s nothing there that cannot be overcome with a little reasoning.
My strength may be diminished right now, but it hasn’t hampered my ability to see right through my own daughter. I know her strengths, and I know her weaknesses.
Who better than her own father, right?
Carver *snickers* Aye, father knows best, an’ that’s a fact, mate. Very well, we ‘ave an accord. I’ll assist ye in
any way possible. I reckon it’s th’ least I can do, t’ help
a dotin’ granddad bond with his beloved granddaughter, especially after ye missed th’ chance with th’ boy. *laughs*
Marchand: You’ve made a very wise decision. And
in return, I’ll be able to help you with … *frowns, looks at him* … just which of your agendas is your priority?
Carver *sullenly* Miranda … an’ that bleedin’ Inspector.
Marchand: Ahh, yes … and Loralee? And …
*keeps his voice casual* … and wasn’t there something awhile back, something to do with that gypsy?
Carver: Aye, I ‘aven’t forgotten any of it … but priorities, mate, as ye
say … priorities. *grins*
Marchand: Very well. *holds up glass* To priorities …
Carver: To priorities. *they clink glasses, drink* By th’ way … ye mentioned Nate earlier.
I don’t reckon I ever ‘ad th’ pleasure. Is he still
in yer employ? Where would he be right now?
Marchand *pauses,
gets a faraway look in his eye* He’s still in my employ … he’ll
be back. But for the time being, he’s doing a little … penance. I feel it’s my duty as a good employer to provide, oh, shall we say, refresher
courses in optimal work ethic. He made a few unfortunate choices … so he’s
being reminded of his place, and what I expect of him. *looks at Carver sternly* I’m sure I’ll never have to resort to such measures with you, though. I can tell by looking at you, you’re made of stronger stuff than Nate.
Carver *swallows,
unnerved for a split second, then quickly recovers* No worries, mate. I won’t let ye down, on pain o’ death …
Marchand *dryly* That goes without saying.
At Rartigillichal:
Manouche *early
morning, strolling outside, the day is beautiful and she’s feeling much better.
She hasn’t sensed the “presence” for a few days now, and she wonders whether it finally decided to
move on. She never doubted that it was real, though she usually blew it off when
talking to Alifi, Malachi, Abberline, or anyone else about it. She guesses it
was a phantom from a previous time, and that it had grown used to having the place to itself.
Once she moved in, most likely it decided not to share the premises. She
feels slightly disappointed at this thought. It couldn’t have hoped for
a more open-minded mortal. After everything she’s seen in her lifetime,
a chance to consort with a ghost was rather to her liking.*
*She continues
walking, reaching the edge of her property, going through the gate, out into the woods and meadows that stretch beyond. She stops to crouch down and look at some wildflowers she doesn’t recognize,
then she hears a noise, looks up, stares in amazement. A large, beautiful horse
stands at the edge of the meadow, gazing at her, pawing the ground, agitated. It’s
stocky, black and white, with a very long mane and tail, and long, mane-like hair around each of its four legs, trailing down
over the hooves. Manouche feels an instant nostalgia as she recognizes the breed
– it’s a gypsy horse, the kind her adoptive family used for pulling their caravan.
She watches it for a few minutes, trying to gauge its mood; she finally settles on “suspicious.”*
Manouche *slowly
stands up* Easy, mate … *she freezes as he snorts loudly, comes toward
her, half-charging, then stops right before her. She looks at him admiringly* Blimey, yer a beauty. *she holds a hand
out for him to sniff, tries to move closer to him* No worries, I won’t
hurt ye. *he stares at her, nostrils quivering, and he calms slightly, she’s
not sure if it’s because of her voice or his own senses about her. She
slowly reaches in a pocket, brings out a sugar packet from Chez Roux; opens it, pours the sugar into a hand, holds it out
for him. He doesn’t move closer, but he stretches his neck all the way
so he can reach, and he nibbles the sugar. She grins* Well, it’s a start, innit? Eatin’ outta me hand,
as it were, ay? I wonder who ye belong to, there’s no one fer miles …
*she notes his unkempt appearance* … an’ if ye don’t mind me sayin’ so, yer owners ain’t takin’
proper care o’ ye. Per’aps I … *her voice trails off as she
notices a gash on one of his hind legs* Oh, ye been injured, no wonder ye seem
upset. *she moves a little closer to try to examine him, and he brings his head
up sharply, snorts again, backs off. He paws at the ground, turns and trots away. She follows him, not too close so she doesn’t scare him, and he disappears into
the foliage of the woods. She approaches the spot where she saw him enter, slowly
peeks through the brush, and eyes widen in surprise as she sees him standing near a mare and a colt* By th’ powers, ye ‘ave a family an’ all, don’t ye, mate? *she watches them for a few minutes, entranced; they’re beautiful, and they take her back to a happy
time with the gypsy family who took her in, years ago.*
*She then withdraws
quietly, hurries back to the house to get some supplies to take care of his wound, if he’ll let her. She also grabs a bunch of apples from the kitchen, runs back outside, crosses her property, returns
to the place where she left them, hoping she wasn’t just seeing things. She
approaches quietly, and sure enough, they’re still there. The mare stands
placidly, her little colt by her side, while the male stands a small distance away, alert, protective. Manouche tosses an apple into the clearing, near his feet; he leans down, picks it up and munches at it
hungrily. She tosses another one, this time a little closer to her, and he goes
for it. She repeats the process till he’s standing within arm’s reach
of her. Then she pulls out a small vial she’d taken from her lab, pours out a little liquid in her hand, holds it out
to him* ‘Ere y’ are, luv … I’m hopin’ this’ll
put ye at ease long enough fer me to tend to yer injury, savvy? *he stretches
out his nose to her hand, cautiously, sniffs, then nibbles, as he did with the sugar.
He then brings his head back, still stands as before. Manouche waits a
few minutes, then decides to give it a try. She comes closer to him, carefully
reaches a hand out to pat him, and he allows it, as calmly as if he’s been used to her for years. She smiles, continues to talk softly to him while she moves around to his back leg and washes the wound,
wraps it up. She’s relieved to see that it’s not too bad, but at
the same time, she knows it’s best not to let these things go. She works
quickly, knowing that he could come out from under the spell of her concoction any moment, and not be at all pleased to find
her messing about with his leg. She finishes up, puts everything away, leaves
the remaining apples in the clearing for him and the mother and colt. She strokes
his nose* There, y’are, handsome, good as new. I’ll be back to check on ye later, but I reckon ye’ll ‘ave returned home by then. If ye ‘ave a home, that is. *she
looks into his mild eyes, wishes she knew his story. Then she figures she’d
better leave so they’ll all three be more at ease – by now the mare is looking at her anxiously – and she
withdraws from the little thicket, and she crosses the meadow, back to her property.
She goes through the gate, decides to leave it open, heads back toward her house.
She turns, and to her surprise, she sees all three horses emerge from their hiding place, slowly cross the meadow,
and come through the gate. She doesn’t let on that she’s seen them,
she turns and keeps walking back toward the house. When she gets to her door,
she turns around and sees that they’ve gone no farther than the shed that houses the art studio, about halfway between
the main buildings and the edge of the property. They stop there, and they stand
calmly, as if it’s where they belong.*
Manouche *smiles,
speaks softly, though she knows they can’t possibly hear her* I’d
best find out if ye belong to anyone in th’ area. In th’ meantime,
though, I’ll look into findin’ ye somethin’ proper t’ eat. I’ll
start with Gilbert an’ Melissa, they may know of a good feed store, may even sell such things themselves. Make yerselves at home, luvs. *she grins as she sees the male
shake his head amicably, his mane flying, as if he heard her. She goes into the
house to get ready to go into town, hoping very much that her inquiries will result in the fact that the little family belongs
to no one*
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