298. Late, but Never too Late

298. Late, but Never too Late

I, Little Dolphus, the intellectual Leafy, was quietly following Arley Fitz Titania and Oberon to see where he was going in case there should be a story in that which I could tell you. Young Arley was not alone. He was in the Company of Angelmouse Belfry Grigio, for he had just breakfasted on king cake and hot chocolate in the home of the family he had found for Angelmouse, namely the Di Limbo family. He had found Gelsemine and Nimbo well, and very happy to see him and now, after a brief stop at the Apple Island Auditorium so Angelmouse could fetch some partitures, both were heading for the Richearth Plantation, or so I guessed they were. And I was right so to think because once they reached this place they entered it, and strolled placidly to the front door of the colonial mansion that was the home of Demetrius Estraricus Richearth, Arley’s eccentric Uncle Richie, and of Richie’s wife, starry-eyed Branna Dullahan and their four new children, Hum, Esmeraldo, Azuline and Rosendo.

The peace of that beautiful morning that we were enjoying was suddenly shattered by some frightful shouts that pushed their way out the half open door, which seemed to be at least partially blockedon the inside by something rather large. I must say that there were two figures standing before the door that weren’t of a sort that would frighten at first sight but that were looking a little awed themselves.

These two were Artaban, the fourth Wise Man who had not made it to Bethlehem in time and who was wearing his kingly crown and carrying a large sack and the Italian Wise Woman Befana, a lady that had also attempted to follow the star to Bethlehem but never reached her goal either. This lady carried a large bag, decorated with red, white and green ribbons, the colours of the flag of her country of birth. 

And now, back to the shouts, I return. What I thought to have heard was, “They’ll have to return taking the way they came!” And next, “Not even one single gift more can possibly enter this house! I’ll jump out a window!”

All this was spoken, or better said, shouted by the very upset voice of a woman, so I concluded, after hearing the answer to this threat pronounced by the magnificent and unmistakeable voice of Demetrius Richearth, that the woman who had shouted was sweet Branna, who had never been heard to raise her timid voice before. 

“Darling, you are very polite. You can’t do this to visitors who have come out of love and in peace. And don’t threaten to jump out a window, you remind me of my father. He always threatens to leap into the void when upset with me. I know you both can fly. Threaten me with something that can scare me!”

That was Demetrius’ answer to his wife´s shouts.

“I wasn’t threatening you! I was saying I would jump out the window because I can’t make it to the door!” protested Branna. “And your visitors won’t be able to enter! All the doors are blocked through your fault. They have been for weeks!”

“But look how happy our kids are with their presents! Their little faces shine with delighted astonishment!”

“If their eyes are like plates it is because they can’t understand how their father can be so crazy!”

“Let’s see, come here, sonny,” Richearth turned to his boy Esmeraldo, seeking for some support, “do you like the gifts I have given you, or don’t you?”

“Very much! Thank you!” the voice of this child was heard to say.

“He can turn himself into a seahorse! He has no need of ships! What is he going to do with a kayak, a kawésqar canoe, a yamana bark canoe, an eskimo canoe, a palmtree trunk cayuco, a motorboat, a catamarán, a riverboat, a Venetian gondola, a schooner, two galleons and a brig saiboat?”

“Why, fly from confine to confine!”

“Fly? Horrors! Don’t tell me there’s an aircraft carrier too!”

 “Actually, I never thought of that one. But I’ll put it on my to acquire list, thanks for reminding me. I am the pirate captain that at the stern sings merrily, Asia on one side, Europe on the other, and Istanbul  right before meeeeeeee!”

And Richearth broke into The Pirate’s Song, and boy, the man could sing it! He was wonderful to hear. Evey creature that surrounded us paused to listen. I believe the world stopped turning!

“For my ship is my treasure, for my god is liberty, my law is force and the wind and my only homeland the sea!”

And when he was done, he added, “Don’t fuss, please, but due to problems at the post office a submarine is yet to arrive. And a weather modification vessel. I didn’t forget to buy those.”

“Should we leave?” Befana asked Artaban.

“I don’t know. If he is going to give an encore, I’d like to hear it,” said the Wise Man. “I’m like fascinated. Boy, can this man sing! What a grand guy! Look around you, Befana. All the flora that grows about us has trippled in size at the sound of his voice. We may or may not be welcome, but out here I don’t think we’ll be much of a bother if we stay to listen.”

“He is certainly awesomely good,” intervened Angelmouse. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Angelmouse Belfry Grigio, and I know a little about music. I am Hum Richearth’s music teacher. Richie himself hired me this Christmas to train the voice of his daughter, an honour he has done me.  I am also a professor at the Sweet Voice of the Siren School of Song, and I belong to the Opera Company of the Royal Auditorium of Apple Island.”

 “Oh!  Well, we are sure we would love to hear you sing too!” said Artaban and Befana.

And from that moment on, everyone listened to everyone. Demetrius shrank the inmensity of toys he had gifted his children with even more than he already had so we could walk in through the door and enter his house. Brana was able to reach the door and welcomed us, apologizing for her shouts, but pointing at the piles of things that surrounded us to justify them. She expressed the hope that they would not return to their real size within the mansion, and Demetrius assured her they would not. But what I am interested in telling you are the stories of Artaban and Befana.

“Since you have never heard of us, Mrs. Richearth, we will explain to you who we are. You first, Artaban,” said Befana.

“I was a physician. That is, I was a doctor when I was mortal.”

“Therefore you still are one, though I take it you no longer practice,” said Branna.

“Exactly. I was also interested in astronomy, as I have been told you yourself are. So I corresponded with astronomers from other parts of the world. One day, we agreed to meet in a certain place to follow a star. You can imagine which star, I am sure. I packed my bags, especially one full of precious stones and I set forth. But as fortune would have it, I never reached my goal. As I advanced, I kept running into people who needed medical assistance. And money. For many were ill because they couldn’t afford good food and medicines. Never had I ever seen, or have ever again seen, as many ill people as I did when I followed the star. Even epidemics barred my way. I never got to Bethlehem, but I reached Jerusalem thirty-three years after I had set out of my home. All there was left in my bag of precious stones was a ruby. And when I saw what I saw in that city, I left it there. And my soul left my mortal body there too.”

“Something similar happened to me,” said Befana. “My father died when I was a little girl. My mother locked the rooms he had occupied to do his work in and would not let the servants in them even to clean them. I considered what was in there my heritage, for I had no brother who might make a claim. So I decided to fight the dust in there myself. There was a lot of it on the papyri and parchments and scrolls in there. As I cleaned,  I decided to have a look at them and found them most interesting. And most were about astronomy and astrology  and I read all I could and soon was corresponding with Artaban and other astronomers too. One day my mother told me I had to marry an older man because we were out of money, and if I didn’t do this, we would have to sell all the documents in my library.  I did as I was told to. My husband didn’t spend much time at home. He was interested in wars, and was always leaving to participate in one or another. So, despite having to raise two children, I had a bit of time to continue observing the stars. I realized something wonderful was happening up in the sky, something that foretold wonderful things would happen on earth. The friends I corresponded with decided to follow one star in particular and I was determined to join them in their exciting pursuit. I had to move quickly, because I learned about this late, and had little time to spare. I began to pack the scrolls, parchments and papyri I found most interesting. “But where are you going with all that junk?” my husband asked me, for he neither knew nor wanted to know anything about stars and miracles, aside from auguries about how his wars would turn out. I explained to him that  a very important child was about to be born, a son of heaven who would change the world and that I wanted to be a part of this change, and would offer him my documents to encourage him in his purpose. “But if he is a god, he already must know everything. Why take information to him?” However, my husband didn’t try to impede me from going on this trip. It was my sons who were not too happy about this. They were both grown, but still dependent. My husband and I were at the door of our house ready to part, he to a new war and I to follow the star of peace when my eldest son said, “Don’t you leave without ironing my red tunic!” And my younger son said he wanted to have breakfast. So my husband left and I stayed to speak to my sons and our servants, to explain to them that they were going to have to do without me and were now on their own and had to get on with each other. The next day, I did get to hit the road, but as I passed by a neighbour’s house, a little girl called out to me. Her mother was ill and had asked her to ask me for help. I spent six days in that house, and when my neigbour had recovered, I spent a week in my own home, quite ill myself. One thing came after another and the case is I never made it out of Rome, which was where I lived. But since I couldn’t give the gifts I had prepared for the special child, I spent the rest of my life giving small gifts to good children who lived near me, and when I passed away I became a spirit of Christmas and now I give gifts to the good children of all Italy.”

“And I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the gifts you gave me when I was a very little boy and lived in a belfry in Rome,” said Angelmouse.

This is all I, the intellectual Leafy, have for you for now. Thank you for reading.