Read Online The Bard Speaks by Montgomery Mahaffey - Free Book Online
Authors: Montgomery Mahaffey
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every night for a year.”
“This is not the same thing,” his grandson said. “You’ve had a long life.”
“Death is death, and you don’t need to witness mine.”
His grandson turned his head to the window. Swarms of people were in the streets, and he recognized the travelers from the anticipation sparkling in their eyes. All was festive beyond the carriage, the conversation animated and the laughter boisterous, yet some had tears in their eyes. Loved ones embraced the passengers waiting for the horn to call them aboard.
The Patron pulled the latch and opened them up to the world outside, his wife joining him. They were adamant on the need to check in early at the hotel where they would stay the night and make certain of the rooms.
“We want the Bard to be comfortable,” the Patroness said, touching the youth’s cheek with one gloved hand. “I give you my word your grandfather will be given every care and we’ll be back in time to see you off.”
The driver closed the door behind the noble couple. The old man chuckled watching their backs disappear down a narrow avenue and turned to his grandson.
“I know you don’t understand why I want you to go now,” the Bard said. “Any more than I understand your desire to be a wanderer. That scares me to no end, but isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, if I can honor your wishes, why can’t you honor mine?”
The youth squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
“It’s rare that one man can give another his dream,” the Bard said, taking his hand. “Will you please let me enjoy this?”
His grandson traced the bones in the old man’s fingers. He still couldn’t believe the Bard was so fragile, waiting for the knot in his throat to dissolve before he spoke.
“Thank you, Peppo. This means everything to me.”
“Then allow yourself some happiness, so I can be a part of it.”
The youth nodded, but all he could think about was that this would be the last time he saw his grandfather. He wanted to savor this time and pushed his tears away, talking to the Bard with a false cheeriness that didn’t fool the old man. They were relieved by the return of the Patron and Patroness, their smiling faces easing the tension in the carriage.
“We have a gift for you,” the Patron said.
His wife pulled a necklace from its wrapping, a man with ardent devotion in his features carved into the silver charm.
“This is the saint who looks out for travelers,” she said, draping the chain around his neck. “He’ll keep you safe.”
The youth started at the sound of the horn calling the passengers on board. The whistle rang in his ears and his heart pounded and ached. He wondered how it was possible to feel excited for adventure and overcome with sorrow in the same moment. The Bard swallowed hard, but smiled to his grandson.
“Well, this is your send off,” he said. “Remember to always follow your heart. At least, I don’t need to worry about you crossing paths with Ella Bandita.”
His grandson laughed, relieved he might leave in high spirits like the old man wanted.
“Now that I’m about to leave,” he said. “Will you now admit you made her up?”
“But if I did,” the Bard retorted. “My last words to you would be lies.”
All four of them laughed, clinging to the suddenly buoyant mood.
“But Peppo,” his grandson said. “There’s one thing I never understood. It’s not possible Ella Bandita could eat all those hearts she stole.”
“You got that right.”
“So if she’s real as you say,” he pressed, “then where does she keep them?”
“That’s a good question, and one I don’t know the answer to.”
The Bard pulled his grandson close and held him with the last of his strength, one tear sliding down his cheek.
“Enough about her,” he said, kissing his cheek. “Dreams don’t wait forever, Kid. It’s time for you to go.”
****
She found it by accident years ago.
She was camped deep
“This is not the same thing,” his grandson said. “You’ve had a long life.”
“Death is death, and you don’t need to witness mine.”
His grandson turned his head to the window. Swarms of people were in the streets, and he recognized the travelers from the anticipation sparkling in their eyes. All was festive beyond the carriage, the conversation animated and the laughter boisterous, yet some had tears in their eyes. Loved ones embraced the passengers waiting for the horn to call them aboard.
The Patron pulled the latch and opened them up to the world outside, his wife joining him. They were adamant on the need to check in early at the hotel where they would stay the night and make certain of the rooms.
“We want the Bard to be comfortable,” the Patroness said, touching the youth’s cheek with one gloved hand. “I give you my word your grandfather will be given every care and we’ll be back in time to see you off.”
The driver closed the door behind the noble couple. The old man chuckled watching their backs disappear down a narrow avenue and turned to his grandson.
“I know you don’t understand why I want you to go now,” the Bard said. “Any more than I understand your desire to be a wanderer. That scares me to no end, but isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, if I can honor your wishes, why can’t you honor mine?”
The youth squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
“It’s rare that one man can give another his dream,” the Bard said, taking his hand. “Will you please let me enjoy this?”
His grandson traced the bones in the old man’s fingers. He still couldn’t believe the Bard was so fragile, waiting for the knot in his throat to dissolve before he spoke.
“Thank you, Peppo. This means everything to me.”
“Then allow yourself some happiness, so I can be a part of it.”
The youth nodded, but all he could think about was that this would be the last time he saw his grandfather. He wanted to savor this time and pushed his tears away, talking to the Bard with a false cheeriness that didn’t fool the old man. They were relieved by the return of the Patron and Patroness, their smiling faces easing the tension in the carriage.
“We have a gift for you,” the Patron said.
His wife pulled a necklace from its wrapping, a man with ardent devotion in his features carved into the silver charm.
“This is the saint who looks out for travelers,” she said, draping the chain around his neck. “He’ll keep you safe.”
The youth started at the sound of the horn calling the passengers on board. The whistle rang in his ears and his heart pounded and ached. He wondered how it was possible to feel excited for adventure and overcome with sorrow in the same moment. The Bard swallowed hard, but smiled to his grandson.
“Well, this is your send off,” he said. “Remember to always follow your heart. At least, I don’t need to worry about you crossing paths with Ella Bandita.”
His grandson laughed, relieved he might leave in high spirits like the old man wanted.
“Now that I’m about to leave,” he said. “Will you now admit you made her up?”
“But if I did,” the Bard retorted. “My last words to you would be lies.”
All four of them laughed, clinging to the suddenly buoyant mood.
“But Peppo,” his grandson said. “There’s one thing I never understood. It’s not possible Ella Bandita could eat all those hearts she stole.”
“You got that right.”
“So if she’s real as you say,” he pressed, “then where does she keep them?”
“That’s a good question, and one I don’t know the answer to.”
The Bard pulled his grandson close and held him with the last of his strength, one tear sliding down his cheek.
“Enough about her,” he said, kissing his cheek. “Dreams don’t wait forever, Kid. It’s time for you to go.”
****
She found it by accident years ago.
She was camped deep
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