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.
Of her father, she only remembered slowness and
light caresses on her cheeks
with the back of his rough hand.
Of the rest she remembered little or perhaps nothing.
Mary Jane knew to wait!
Just like her father! And like the seasons.
That was why she was smart.
She ... was not in a hurry.
She was not at all.
So, with the slowness of things
even the sundown arrived, on that first day
as fugitives.
The sun was setting at the same time as the slow return of animals from pasture.
She saw them coming in the distance, like the platoon of a large army, from the crack in the barn wood.
Where she could see the Moon and the Sun, too.
The animals approaching the stable began to get nervous again, without any apparent reason.
They began mooing, braying, bleating and stamping their feet, as if they had entered a
Wild West Rodeo.
With the farmer's astonishment,
even his faithful dog Faust, who had accompanied them serenely to the pasture and to the way home,
he began to bark loudly, spin out of control, as if to bite its own tail.
The farmer closed the stable.
Asking to himself a million and more questions.
Then he headed home.
Thinking that the following day
he would have to call the veterinarian,
among all the things he had to do.
To let somebody that knows things better
control his animals.
For those absurd oddities
of their latest behaviors.
Behaviors that
he couldn't explain by himself.
The captain of the gendarmerie, coming back
at Ladurée’s residence, he informed the Commissioner
C. Monet, of his first defeat.
Commissioner! No trace of the children!
Captain?! They couldn't have gone
that far!
Commissioner C. Monet replied, rolling his long mustaches.
We looked all over Paris!
Checked everywhere, inquired of anyone! Mr. Commissioner! Nothing!
Call for reinforcements! Get our people on it!
That's an order!
Commissioner C. Monet snorted bored and shouted loudly.
The captain of the gendarmerie,
as embalmed, frozen by that sudden anger,
he clicked his heels with
an empty and blank look.
He greeted the commissioner, putting his hand outstretched above his right eye
and executed orders received.
Do
