Federico Parra - A Little Girl In The Middle Of Nowhere Lost Her Happy Thought

Reading through his things I think he has fled to some distant or exotic country,

bringing the embalmed body of his beloved wife with him.

So he disappeared in a flash leaving their only beautiful daughter

in a shelter for orphans.

My adoption papers are all in the parish of Reverend Dumas.

Anyway,

what Count Ladurée left before escape his properly punishment, is all in his office; you can visit it whenever you want!

I left it as it was to facilitate the course of the investigation and now it is still as it was at the time.

Madame Tussauds said looking at

Dumas with a cunning glance.

It’s not a great story! ... It’s not a great story at all!

Commissioner Monet mumbled

beneath his long black mustaches,

while he was a long way off from hearing.

Her voice was too irritating for his ears. As a music that does not sound good. A scratched disc that stops the pin and blows up ruining

the melody of things.

Would you like something to drink?

A brandy or some coffee? Maybe some tea?

The waitress said to all

the guests in the salon.

In that night of shock-white snow

on the windows steamed up.

In this strange story, full of

unsolved mysteries.

It seemed that everyone, listening to the story about Count Ladurée, they had completely forgotten why they were there.

At that late hour in a night

a few days before Christmas.

They had completely forgotten about

Mary Jane and little Jean Baptiste.

They drank and had conversations again, about this and that, they talked about the weather changes and Madame Tussauds was a very good host. Then they drank a toast again,

making wishes each other.

Meanwhile, a few kilometers from there,

the two children slept with the animals in the warmth of the stable, dreaming of a happy Christmas.

Only after all the unnecessary pleasantries Commissioner C. Monet,

seemed to get away from the group, pursuing a quick thought that

it seemed to fly away and be unreachable.

Then, calling his Gendarme, he said:

Unleashed the dogs and look for the little girl and the baby boy all over Paris!

Arrest anyone who has not reported

the facts and protects the two fugitives!

Madame Tussauds and the Rev. Dumas nodded, as if Commissioner Monet

had addressed directly to them.

Unfortunately for the Gendarmerie and fortunately for the two children,

the next morning it looked like spring and

the snow melting fast,

hid all traces at sniffer dogs.

Sniffer dogs that, under the shining sun

of that morning, they found themselves in rivers

of running water to smell in vain.

Water followed its paths,

made of descents and slopes,

curves or recesses, and then puddles,

small ponds and canals.

Water, as was its mission,

besides the fact of irrigating the ground and

nourishing plants and all living things,

it was hiding with careful parsimony

the smell of the two fugitives.

It seemed that all Nature somehow protected the two children.

As if they were her first children or

a precious gift for everyone.

A miraculous harvest of fields

that had to be nourished with great care.

A fruit ... A red apple

given to all men and women

so that they may also know other truths.

The Sun rose and replaced the Moon.

The same thing happened even in the barn,

but here all the animals

saw it happen.

Not because they had nothing else to look at

but because the birth of a day,

like the growth of a child,

is the most important thing in the world.

A single ray of light passed

through the slit of the stable.

On the side where the children were sleeping, it lit up

Mary Jane’s face; she stretched herself and leaned in unison with Thomas the cat,

which, licking its private parts, soon after her, greeted the Sun with a giant yawning.

You look like the characters in that small village that humans call nativity scene!

Thomas the cat said pointing at the children,

the cows and the hay all around them.

Look out! The Farmer is coming! Help! Find some cover!

Bernhard said coming out quickly from his hole and running wildly.

We should moo all together!

When the farmer arrives... and the sheep bleating, the rooster crowing, not to let him hear

the child's weeping! Ismael the bull said.

All for one! ... It continued.

one for all! ... All the animals replied.

And it was a choir! The barn was immense in the daylight and the animals were many, so many.

Mary Jane was well hidden from the view of the farmer and she looked from beneath the udders and listened astonished, as if she was still dreaming ... A cool dreaming!

Upon his arrival, the farmer found the animals very, very agitated.

Cows and calves were mooing, horses were neighing, the rooster was crowing incessantly,

the cat was meowing, the donkey was braying and the sheep were bleating.

In seeing that confusion, the farmer feared that an Earthquake, or a Storm, perhaps a Hurricane was coming.

Since animals feel disasters and earthquakes first.

The farmer hurried to take them out to the pasture, and got his family

out of the house.

He looked at the sky, but everything looked serene. It was the cold sky of a rigid December, but clear and light blue, a nice cool winter sky.

While the farmer was heading grazing absorbed in a thousand questions,

animals suddenly stopped pawing, making verses and various bellows.

As if everything had passed and

the coming storm had become

flat calm of that sky so blue.

Mary Jane and Jean Baptiste remained hidden in a floor packed with straw,

together with Bernhard the mouse and Thomas the cat.

You're Thomas the cat, right?

Mary Jane said

At your service, Mademoiselle!

Why, can you talk?

I've always been a big talker!

Do not be silly! It drives me mad being here!

It's a fortune, don’t you think?

Thomas answer me, please,

Why can you talk?

If anything... why can you hear me?

Right? ... Why can I hear you?

“It's a meaningless conversation”

Mary Jane thought;

she thought she was going crazy or

to be still dreaming cool.

You can hear us thank to your father,

the brilliant Count Ladurée.

Bernhard was a lab rat,

you know? ... And he told me about things.

That rat's got the scoop on!

Now... the mouse can talk, too?

No! Mademoiselle is you, who can listen to us!

Bernhard the mouse said, almost annoyed.

Ok! Alright! Hear, listen, talk! I don't care! Mouse, tell me about my father! Mary Jane said, more annoyed than him.

First of all, my name is Bernhard Blues! ... Not Mouse! ... Secondly, I do not want to tell you anything!

And so telling Bernhard sneaked away, inside his small hole.

Seen! ... You've offended him! ... Good!

Thomas said, shaking his head.

With the help of time perhaps Mary Jane would understand the personality of every single animal.

She could finally take advantage of this mysterious bond, to face the future and to understand the past that no one

had never told her.

She did not really know

how and who her Father was;

she did not even know about her Mother or

remembered many things; sometimes

their faces also disappeared from her memory.

So, she would have to wait

to grow and develop to the best

this immense power which

now it seemed nothing to her.

Mary Jane was a bright child,

there are no doubts about this.