the rise of Amelie (a story)
I came to tell you a tale from my youth. It happened so very long ago. It’s about a night unlike any other one. Yet it began much the same as any other one.
I went downstairs to get a story and a cuddle, before the nanny took me off to the nursery.
Everyone thought I had gone to sleep, as was my wont to do. But for some reason I was restive. So I crawled up to look out of the nursery window. It was a cool crisp night. The kind where if you got snow in your land, it would be coming quite soon. You just knew it by the air and the way it moved.
The stars were sparkling, the night sky was ebony and everyone but me was asleep.
For some reason, I looked up further into the few clouds and saw some kind of flock coming toward the house. I say flock, but they didn’t seem like birds to me. So I watched.
Ok shame me for my childish imagination, but I pinkie swear what I say to be true, and the fact I still remain above ground should be enough to say something odd took place. But there was a little pale boy and a bunch of goblins! I shook my head, yet here they came toward our lawn.
And on the lawn, I saw a bunch of faeries gathered as if they knew the boy and had gathered, to greet him perhaps?
Yet he didn’t look pleased to see them. But then he cackled so, and my spine just made every effort to crawl up and hide in my neck, the laugh was so evil.
I looked for a battle, but instead I saw a dance-off begin. Much like at mother and father’s parties, when they let me stay up a bit to watch.
It looked like some dance of pride. Some bow to begin, and they began their rounds of seduction and greeting. I giggled as I always did when I saw good courting.
Then the dance began with a great step , and the one side showed the other which dance, with the music, was to begin their frolic.
They were like chickens and roosters in the yard, avoiding some areas and plucking seed from others so they would stay there for a few steps. Some territorial dispute perhaps? They seemed to be showing the edges of the battleground.
They swung each other around as if in a feud over some deep misunderstanding. Perhaps that’s the point at which greed stepped into the dance? But whatever it was, it was a deep passion.
Just like the chickens, they were hopping and strutting as if they were putting on a show to entrance the rooster with their verility. Or was it the rooster who was the show off? I giggled again.
I think the little boy heard me, as he looked at the nursery window. So I ducked down for a few minutes.
When reassured he was engaged in the dance again, I peeked over the edge. There had been a change in the dance. Some form of march or promenade had formed.
I was beginning to see why it was the adults were the only dancers at a party. Unless there was a folk song. There was a real sense of flirtation in some of the songs. It surprised me that some of the village elders allowed the young adults to perform these risque moves. I was blushing in my innocence. A sense of in and out began between the chickens and the roosters. As if they were about to rut like the farm animals did. When mother or nanny would turn my head away, till we were past that section of the yard.
Finally, it seemed like the side with the pale boy had won some victory. The other side succumbed to their lead. And bowed their heads as they were led away.
Just as I was about to go back to bed, the pale boy flew to my window and stared into my eyes with a hypnotic glow and I was spellbound to him.
Then I softly fell into bed and he flew away, leaving nothing for the whole show but a frost on the window.
In the morning, my nanny said in an off the cuff way, “Oh it looks like Jack Frost was here last night”. I replied, “Is that who he was?”. She looked at me askance, so I told her about the dance.
My nanny laughed at my tale and said I should tell the story to my parents when we met at breakfast. I was crushed.
I’ll leave you to judge, if the tale is true, For whatever or whoever the boy was, or if in my dream or not, I am still here over 300 years later…