As the days passed by, Gastone had been charged with teaching Evelyn various subjects such as spelling and history. Some days were better then others, and today was no different. Evelyn was focused on the light centred on the wall as she sat with Gastone at the vermillion-coloured dining table, with Gastone on one end, covered by the curtains, while Evelyn sat on the other, wiggling in her seat with Bruno on her lap, hunched over with the light of the candle bouncing off her face. The only object between the pair was a book, full of animals of various shapes and sizes. Nick-Nack was sitting in his orange chair, his blue cane between his legs as he observed the makeshift lesson. For about a month now, Gastone had been coming to the little house on the hill in the morning to educate Evelyn, called Evie by her “father”. Nick-Nack would not interrupt the lessons, merely watch. He watched in wonder, whereas Gastone would squirm when Evelyn tried to come closer. He noticed that she would scribble on loose paper during the lessons, mostly flowers.
“Now…Evelyn,” Gastone mumbled while pointing to an illustration of a steer, “Can you tell me what colour this animal is and what noise it makes?”
Evelyn giggled as she saw the page, putting her fingers to her forehead as if she had horns, “Moooo!”, she squealed happily.
Gastone nodded slowly in agreement, “Yes, that’s correct,” he stated flatly,.”Now, can you tell me what colour he is?”
Evelyn cocked her head to the side and held up Bruno and shook him around excitedly.
“The cow is the same colour as the cat,” Gastone expressed through clenched teeth, “But can you say the name of the colour?”
Evelyn held Bruno closer as she pondered for a moment. She gulped nervously as she began to speak, “Ba-ba-ba….” She stopped, looking sheepishly at her feet.
Gastone slowly nodded his head with each noise Evelyn made, stopping as suddenly as she did. His mouth formed an unimpressed frown, thinly hidden behind the illustration in front of him. He placed it down and rubbed his temples with his hands slowly. He held his head in his hands as he looked around the table, Evelyn kept looking down at her feet, while the old master looked on, quietly. Gastone took a deep breath before spotting his book-bag and he could feel the cogs in his head turning. He stood up from his chair, shocking Evelyn, whereas Nick-Nack looked down with a raised eyebrow. Gaston shifted through his bag and took out his violet notebook and a brown pen from the bottom of the bag. He walked back to the table and stood next to Evelyn, blocking the light from her face. He leaned over the table, writing something in his notebook and presenting to Evelyn. On the page were a series of words: “Bah. La. Ack.” Using his pen to point to the words, Gastone turned to face Evelyn who looked back up at him with doe eyes, catching Gastone by surprise. He cleared his throat and looked back to the paper, Evelyn’s head snapping in the same direction.
“Can you say these things?” Gastone firmly asked, “Take as long as you need to.”
Evelyn looked over each word, her from on Bruno tightening up. “Bah…la…ack?”, she remarked, her voice squeaking between each word. Gastone nodded slowly. “Now, repeat,” he ordered. Evelyn repeated the words ten times, her grip on Bruno becoming looser with each correct pronunciation. The old man watched from a corner; a soft smile hidden by his aged hand.
Gastone nodded slowly. “Now,” he began, “can you say the three sounds together?”
Evelyn looked up at Gastone and gave a confident nod as she looked at the page once more. “Bah, la, ack! Black,” Evelyn responded, proud as pie. She looked up to see Gastone’s expression was softer, but still firm as he placed the pencil down and gave a quick nod of approval. Evelyn smiled; her eyes filled with excitement as she made Bruno clap his paws frantically.
Gastone smiled sheepishly at the mechanical girl, hearing not her claps, but her cogs. He could hear the tick tick tick of her wheels, the squeaking in her joints, unnatural movements for a doll. Nick-Nack on the other hand looked incredibly proud of his newest creation, how fast she was learning. She was an improvement. Nick-Nack slowly rose from his seat, clapping happily with a soft smile on his face.
“Very good today, Evie,” Nick-Nack said in a joyful tone, “You’ve come so far these last few weeks.”
Evelyn smiled nervously, burying her face in her stuffed toy as she held him tightly. Gastone stared, still unsure if this entire experience had been a bad dream. He quickly gathered his belongings from the table, noticing Evelyn was looking at him from behind her toy. He felt a shock go through his spine, since she was perfectly still, yet her eye was wandering. As he placed his items back into his deep blue book-bag, locking it quicker than usual. Evelyn’s blue eyes still locked onto him like a kitten following a butterfly. Gastone grabbed his coat and his hat, tipping it towards Nick-Nack, who was standing by the doorway.
“Good evening, sir,” said Gastone, tiredly, “I shall come by tomorrow.”
Nick-Nack smiled as he began closing the door behind Gastone, for a moment, he could see Evelyn waving goodbye shyly. As the door shut behind him, Gaston walked away from the little house on the hill with his face in his hands. He felt awful keeping such a secret from his family, but he had also promised to take care of Nick-Nack. Would anyone believe him? Would be locked in a madhouse for saying that he was teaching a giant doll how to name animals? Most likely, and who knows what his parents would think of such a story.
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As Gastone walked down the hill and through the cobblestone streets and cracked apartments, he watched people close their windows, lock their shops, and blow out their candles. Gastone sat down on a faded brown bench with a dim streetlight looking over it. He crossed his legs and his arms as he looked up at the sky, passersby tipping their ebony and ash-coloured hats towards him.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” An elderly woman’s voice asked, causing Gaston to jump as he quickly turned his head. The woman wore a light blue dress with a floral pattern, a small, matching hat, round glasses, a cross around her neck, and had oak coloured hair. She was looking up at the stars, their lights reflecting in her frames. Gastone straightened out his clothing and his hat before speaking to the woman.
“It is, " Gastone replied, “it brings me comfort to see them.”
“I was like that too,” the woman said while smiling, “I would wish on them often when I was young, so did my son, and my granddaughter seems to like them. Although, nothing beats the view of the stars in the city.”
Gastone smiled softly at the old woman’s stories, before looking down at his feet.
The old lady turned towards Gaston with her head cocked slightly to the side.
“Is something troubling you, young man?” she asked, curious, “You shut up like a clam after seeing a catfish.”
Gaston let out a deep sigh, before speaking.
“I feel like I’m being pulled like a corpse torn apart by vultures”, he bemoaned as he plunged his face into his lanky hands, “I feel like no matter what I choose, someone is going to be let down.”
“I suggest that you go with what your heart tells you,” The woman explained, “you can’t live your life for other people. You’ll have more regrets that way.”
“…That’s true,” Gastone replied before turning his head to face the woman, “but... what happens if- “
The woman was gone. Gastone looked to his left and right, and she was nowhere to be seen. He shook his head as he held his forehead, “I’m going mad,” he stated with wide eyes, “I’m going mad.” He quickly walked home, wondering what was wrong with him.
He unlocked and opened the front door of his imposing brick house, quickly shutting it behind as he headed up the ruby carpet stairs. Before he made it halfway up the stairs, he heard a familiar, and often comedic, voice.
“Who lit your pants on fire?” The voice asked in a calm manner. Gastone turned his head to see his older brother, Sergio, standing in the door frame of the living room. He was a stout man, with a light blue waistcoat and black trousers, with the trademark Snow White skin of the Skeletro family, but his eyes were a deep cobalt, like their mothers. He had a pink mug with blue flowers planted on it,
“Tired,” Gaston said, his hand on the banister and his head looking down, “I’m just…tired.”
“And I am the Queen of Gemstone”, Sergio said in a voice imitating an old woman, “my first decree is free spirits for all sailors on Friday’s!”
Gastone chuckled, but didn’t move his head or his hand as he climbed a few more stairs.
“Oi,” Sergio stated, “That old geezer isn’t working you too hard now, is he? You need your own life too.”
“I made a promise, Sergio.”
“I know you did, but that shouldn’t mean your own feelings don’t matter. I know you think Pops and Ma consider you a screw-up, but you’ll achieve something great.”
Gastone didn’t reply before he began climbing up the stairs once again. Sergio just watched; his cobalt eyes heavy.
“Remember, kid,” Sergio said, “…despite everything, it’s still you.”
Gastone stopped at the top of the stairs before he turned to the right towards his room. He undressed, throwing his old clothes onto his chair as he pulled out a nightshirt from his dresser and climbed into his bed, rubbing his eyes and staring at the ceiling. The room was completely shrouded in shadow except for some moonlight showered over Gastone’s chest. The last few weeks between taking care of Nick-Nack, keeping the secret of Evelyn, and the mounting pressure of his family had convinced Gastone he was slowly descending into madness. He estimated it would be about a month or two before he was sent away in a padded kart to the madhouse. As he sighed and closed his eyes, he lay his arms out. Would his prayers for a concrete answer be fulfilled, or would his prayers fall on deaf ears.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Evelyn watched as the door closed behind Gaston as she held Bruno close to her chest. She inched a tad closer to the door, as if wanting to open it. Nick-Nack locked the door, the silver butterfly sparkling under the moonlight. He turned to Evelyn and smiled at her.
“Now, Evie,” Gaston uttered softly, “let’s get ready for bed.”
Evelyn nodded as she placed Bruno down on the nearby oak table, next to the silver vase of violet heliotropes and pink striped carnations. She glided over to the elderly man, carefully holding him by the arm. The pair made their way to Nick-Nack’s chambers, and Evelyn helped him sit down on his bed. Evelyn turned towards the deep mahogany table, with a silver candle holder, with a nearly melted candle. She lit a match, pausing for a moment as she admired the dancing flames. She moved towards his umber-coloured dresser, complete with a golden picture of two beautiful women turned to the side, golden wings flowing behind them, the cabinet resting on gilded lion paws. Evelyn opened the doors with a creek and opened the drawers to find Nick-Nack’s night clothes. Satisfied with her choice, she closed the doors and placed the clothing on the seemingly ancient blanket. Nick-Nack smiled as Evelyn stood next to the bed.
“That will be all,” Nick-Nack said, “Good night, Evie.”
Evie nodded as she glided over to the door, left the room, and closed the door behind her. She picked up Bruno from the sofa and held him by his paw. She made her way towards a door down the hallway of the little house on the hill and stopped in front of the first door and opened it slowly. There were no windows in the bedroom, the walls had no paint on them and were a deep grey. It wasn’t large, and had a simple wooden bed frame, a mirror with no frame leaning against the wall, a small dresser decorated with lilacs, and a desk set with a stack of books draped on top and underneath them, plus a small cup with pencils in it. On the walls were many different pictures of flowers, Bruno, and fable figures. The only sign of the outside world was on the wall next to her bed. On it was a picture of the bright morning sky, with emerald grass and batches of butterfly weed.
Evelyn grabbed a book from the top of the pile and opened it to reveal a series of words and pictures. She squinted at the text on the page but couldn’t make out fully what it said. She turned her attention to the image of a young woman in a beautiful silver ball-gown, clear invisible slippers, and dripping with jewels speaking to a man who was just as finely dressed. Evelyn stared at the image and picked up her pencil. She studied the fashion of the man carefully, before setting her pencil down on the paper. When she was satisfied, she began making quick sketches, with only the sound of her gears as a friend.
Before long, she stopped to admire her work and gave a slight nod. She carefully placed the paper on top of the book stack before grabbing a similar sized page next to it. She moved onto her bed, standing up on her tippy toes as she removed the picture of the garden to replace it with a drawing of the moon. Jumping lightly off the bed, Evelyn placed the morning image on the desk. She laid down on the bed, holding Bruno close, her eyes focused on the ceiling. Instead of sheep, she counted the times her cogs whistled. One, two, three, four…. five…. six…..