#fanatsywritern1mzy

Arthur was riding the night train, returning from Paris to his old town. His business has failed. He was drowning in his sorrow, he couldn't do anything but look out the window, but he couldn't see anything but the reflection of the lights inside. As the train got closer and closer to his stop the pain in his chest grew bigger. What kind of son goes home with bad news for the holidays? 

The train reached the outer skirts of town the train stopped, where the graveyard stood. It was dark, filled with grief. His mother was lying there somewhere too, he didn't know where he didn't make it to the funeral. As he was thinking about her, her lavender scent, her copper locks, and a little too dirty clothes, he saw her. 

At first, he wasn't sure what he was seeing. She looked too eternal, too otherworldly to be true. But the woman was there, filled with light in the darkness, in her pointe shoes, dancing on the graves. Arthur thought he had gone mad, but she stayed there dancing in the moonlight no matter how hard he squinted his eyes or shook his head.

“Have you heard of The Dancing Lady, Sir?” asked a flimsy voice.

“What?” Arthur was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even notice how rude he was or that a kid sat down, next to him.

“The Dancing Lady, Sir.” the boy repeated, “Have you heard of her?”

Arthur was sure the kid was talking about the woman he just saw dancing on the graves.

“No” he gave a short answer.

“People say she was a beautiful ballerina, the most talented one this town has ever seen. And we have a lot of dancers.” The boy was filled with excitement as he was talking.

It was true, Arthur’s hometown was one of the few that had a dancing school. It wasn't as big as the others, but it was good enough for the surrounding towns to send their girls here to learn. 

“She was hardworking and she danced The Nutcracker like no one before! Do you know The Nutcracker, Sir?”

“I've even seen it at the Opera, in Paris.” Arthur said proudly, but on the inside it was another part of him, filled with sadness. One of his richer friends took him for his birthday. It was the most spectacular thing he had ever seen. The kid looked at him with stars in his eyes. 

“I've also seen it, but only on the town square at the Christmas Parade. And between us, most of the girls are not very good. Lisa fell last year, her bow fell out of her hair, it was pretty funny.” The boy giggled. 

Arthur nodded like he knew who the hell was Lisa. 

“Anyway, The Dancing Lady was so hardworking, she got accepted to the Opera, and she was supposed to star in The Nutcracker on opening night! But the night before she was supposed to leave she went to the school to practice more. The old school caught fire that night and she couldn't escape. That’s why my Mama doesn't let me dance, she says it's too dangerous.” 

Both Arthur and the boy looked at the graveyard again. Arthur was convinced that the little kid could also see the glowing woman, dancing around. 

“People say that she never went to Heaven, because God told her that she could not dance there, so she decided to stay on Earth and dance in the graveyard, using the Moon as a stage light.”

The train started moving again and when Arthur looked outside to see the Lady one last time, she vanished.

“Have you ever seen her? The Dancing Lady?” he asked the boy.

“Never, Sir.”

“Alfred, where are you?” a woman shouted in a weak voice.

“I'm here Mama” the kid waved in the direction the sound was coming from.

The lady came in Arthur’s vision and he saw an old woman, who looked way too old to be Alfred’s mother. She was wearing clothes that were too light for the cold and was carrying a big sack on her back. In contrast, Alfred was wearing a big winter coat, too big for a boy his age.

“Do not bother this young man, come, the next will be our stop.” She scolded him while looking apologetically at Arthur.

“But Mama!” Alfred kicked with his little legs on the seat, they didn't even reach the ground.

“I am making soup tonight, come on.” The lady reached her free hand out to the boy.

“I love soup!” the boy’s eyes light up, before taking the woman’s hand and hopping off of the seat. “Goodbye, Sir! Merry Christmas!” he waved at Arthur, before getting off of the train.

“Merry Christmas” Arthur muttered to himself.

Soup. Alfred looked so happy to have soup, it was his favourite, Arthur didn't understand. Growing up, soup meant that they did not have enough money to buy meat or anything for that matter. They only had meat for special occasions, like Christmas or birthdays. His family got it for cheaper from their neighbour who was nice enough to save them some nice pieces after he slaughtered his pigs. 

When he was Alfred’s age, he already knew that. He wondered what it was like to be growing up in the bliss of ignorance as the train reached its final stop.

To Be Continued...

The walk from the train stop to Arthur’s family house was long and painful. He was thankful that the only thing hardening his journey was the cold wind and not a snowstorm. He had to rely on his memory in some parts, where there were no lights to see. 

“The small house on the corner is the bakery, three streets down I will have to turn left.” He mapped out the way home in his head.

Home. He didn't call that crumbling shoebox his home in a long time. A home is nice, a home is safe and full of warmth and love. That stone thing was anything but that.

As he turned left, he saw it. At the very end of the street, there was a house, surrounded by nothing but tall grass. His sister was nice enough to leave a little candle at the window for him to see. 

With each step he took his feet felt heavier, and his lugadges wanted to fall out of his cold hands. He wanted to turn around and run somewhere else. He didn't have a home to run to anymore. He lost his fancy apartment and all of his furniture to the debt collectors, he had to move in with one of his business partners, William and his wife until he figured something out. And he has to figure something out because coming back here was not an option.   

Miraculously he arrived at the door. 

With the little spirit he had in himself, he swallowed his pride and knocked on the door with his knuckles that turned red from the cold. He heard some movement from inside before a tired-faced woman opened the door. Her copper hair was put up in a bun on the verge of falling apart, and her blue eyes looked sadly into Arthur’s. For a moment there was nothing. Not a single movement or sound.

“Come in, you will let out all the heat!” She urged him.

“It’s nice seeing you too, Lily.” Arthur smiled at his sister as he walked in.

As he stepped in he felt the warmth from the fireplace, it felt nice after so much walking outside. On the couch was his father, sleeping.

“He wanted to wait for you but you took so long,” Lily explained.

“I'm sure he did,” said Arthur with a hint of irony in his voice as he looked at the man, snoring in his sleep.

He looked around in the small house, his eyes fixated on the roof.

“Oliver came over and fixed it in the summer.”

“Nice job” Arthur nodded as he put down his two suitcases. 

“Edith is asleep, she is still a little weak, but she couldn't wait to see you.”

“Good. I brought some things for her. I brought some things for all of you,” he corrected himself.

“You shouldn't have” Lily shook her head.

She hated receiving something without having anything to give. 

“It’s a gift, not a debt, you don't have to repay me.”

“I was not going to,” she rolled her eyes. “Are you hungry? We have some leftover dinner.” 

“Soup?” Arthur asked with dread in his voice.

“Very funny. It’s ham and some goat cheese.” Lily said proudly, Arthur’s eyes lit up.

“Where did you manage to get cheese from?”

“Lucy got some goats last year. Christmas gift, she called it.” she shook her head, thinking about how she was going to repay yet another person, while she took off the cloth from the plate the food was hidden under. Even in the dim light, Arthur could see how amazing the food looked. “Fancy some bread with that?” she asked playfully and gave a piece to him.

“We are eating like royalty tonight, I see,” Arthur said as he sat down at the small table.

“It’s probably not as good as the great foods you eat every day at overpriced restaurants, but it’s something,” she said mockingly.

“Well my dear sister,” he started with his mouth full of ham “Paris is not as great as people say. I mean yes, the lights are magical and everything seems like it came from the future, the people are nice and the houses are new. But compared to this,” he dramatically pointed around the small kitchen with his bread “it’s nothing.”

They both giggled at how stupid it sounded.

“That,” he pointed at the half-burned candle in the window “is just like the Eiffel Tower.”

Lily had to put her hands in front of her mouth to muffle her laughter.

“Stop it, we are going to wake everyone up,” she said, still laughing. “So, how’s work?”

Arthur stopped chewing for a moment before forcing the food down his throat.

“Not good,” he sighed. 

Not good was an understatement, it fell apart like a house of cards in the storm. Turns out that selling expensive jewellery and dresses was not the best idea. Not even in Paris.

“But it will be okay, right?” Lily asked, worry filled her voice. 

She didn't care about Arthur’s business, she just wanted to make sure that she didn't have another mouth to feed. She worked as a teacher at the local school but took some odd jobs whenever she could. Styling hair, tutoring kids with richer parents, you name it, she did it and hated every moment of it.

“Have you heard of The Dancing Lady?” Arthur changed the subject seamlessly.

“I see you met Alfred on the way,” she giggled. “He is in my class, very talkative, he loves that legend.”

“How come I never heard of it?”

“Only kids whose souls were not crushed care about fairytales.”

The room got quiet. For a moment only the fireplace cracking and their dad’s snores were heard. Arthur ran his fingers through his golden locks. The kids who didn't see their father breaking bottles when drunk, the kids who didn't have to go out in the cold in the middle of the night to get wood, and the kids who liked soup. Oh how much Arthur envied them.

“Is he still…you know,” Arthur gently nodded in their father’s direction.

“Not as bad, he is too sick for that kind of thing now.” Lily sighed, rubbing an old scar on her left arm.

“I brought some medicine. Mainly for you two but there is something for him too.”

“Thank you,” she said weakly from exhaustion. “I made your bed next to the fireplace, but you can sleep in the bedroom if you would like to.”

“The floor is fine, thank you,” Arthur said while yawning.

“Well then, good night,” Lily got up from the chair and walked to the bedroom door without a sound. “Arthur,” she turned back to look at him. “I am glad you are here, I missed you.” She faintly smiled at him, then went to bed. 

Arthur was left at the dining table alone with his thoughts. He stared at the candle sitting on the windowsill. The flame danced around just like the woman he saw. He couldn't make sense of it. Did he see a ghost or was it just his mind playing with him?

But he was too tired to think about it more, so without washing himself he moved next to the couch, layed on the cold, hard floor, put his head on the uncomfortable pillow and did something, he hadn't done since he was a child, he prayed to God:

“My true Father, if you can hear me, please help us. We need you, more than ever.”

“Please” he whispered before falling asleep.

To Be Continued...