Re: Part 7- On The Appropriate Avoidance of Ghosts [France/US 1.3]
anonymous
February 2 2010, 15:41:22 UTC
“I just need to make sure-“
France cuts him off, “You don’t need to ‘make sure’ of anything. I assure you there nothing here!”
And there isn’t, at least not in this room, not so far as he can see. France can see a good deal more than he lets on, too. He can certainly see England’s fairy friends and he can see the many ghosts of Paris and once upon a time he could see unicorns, although jaded as he is he’s long since lost that particular ability. France, unlike England, just has the good sense not to mention his Sight or acknowledge it in the company of others. People, he felt, didn’t take one quite so seriously if one talked to mythical creatures and spirits. Very recently, he has seen all too many ghosts of those killed in the war, but he forebears mentioning this to America.
“I still say this old place gives me the heebie-jeebies! It looks like the set to one of Poe’s short stories or….or something. Just the sort of place you’d find a ghost!”
America is standing by the bed now, having completed his odd ‘search of the perimeter’ ritual. He seems reluctant to lie down, shining his flashlight randomly around the empty room. France is losing patience. He’s tired and cold and he wishes America would hurry up and get under the covers and share some body heat with him. If he could only get America to lie down, he’s sure he could distract him from dwelling on his fear of ghosts….
“You know, America,” he starts innocently, “If you are worried about ghosts, you shouldn’t walk near the bed; to a ghost your ankle is the most vulnerable part-“
America shivers and looks at him with eyes like saucers. “W-what?”
“Oh yes! Once you’re in bed, you’re safe, though. The ghost can lie around under the bed all night, but you’re safe as daylight. Now are you coming?”
France doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone move so fast-not even in the midst of battle. It’s almost comical, the way America dives onto the mattress and burrows under the covers, spooning up tightly next to him. Ah that’s better-body heat!
“Y-you don’t think there’s a g-gho-ghost under the b-bed, do you?” America asks, sounding panicky.
“No, but better safe than sorry.” France will play along with America if it will get him to stay in bed. He reaches up and gently removes America’s glasses, tucking them into his breast pocket.
“I just need to make sure-“
France cuts him off, “You don’t need to ‘make sure’ of anything. I assure you there nothing here!”
And there isn’t, at least not in this room, not so far as he can see. France can see a good deal more than he lets on, too. He can certainly see England’s fairy friends and he can see the many ghosts of Paris and once upon a time he could see unicorns, although jaded as he is he’s long since lost that particular ability. France, unlike England, just has the good sense not to mention his Sight or acknowledge it in the company of others. People, he felt, didn’t take one quite so seriously if one talked to mythical creatures and spirits. Very recently, he has seen all too many ghosts of those killed in the war, but he forebears mentioning this to America.
“I still say this old place gives me the heebie-jeebies! It looks like the set to one of Poe’s short stories or….or something. Just the sort of place you’d find a ghost!”
America is standing by the bed now, having completed his odd ‘search of the perimeter’ ritual. He seems reluctant to lie down, shining his flashlight randomly around the empty room. France is losing patience. He’s tired and cold and he wishes America would hurry up and get under the covers and share some body heat with him.
If he could only get America to lie down, he’s sure he could distract him from dwelling on his fear of ghosts….
“You know, America,” he starts innocently, “If you are worried about ghosts, you shouldn’t walk near the bed; to a ghost your ankle is the most vulnerable part-“
America shivers and looks at him with eyes like saucers.
“W-what?”
“Oh yes! Once you’re in bed, you’re safe, though. The ghost can lie around under the bed all night, but you’re safe as daylight. Now are you coming?”
France doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone move so fast-not even in the midst of battle. It’s almost comical, the way America dives onto the mattress and burrows under the covers, spooning up tightly next to him. Ah that’s better-body heat!
“Y-you don’t think there’s a g-gho-ghost under the b-bed, do you?” America asks, sounding panicky.
“No, but better safe than sorry.” France will play along with America if it will get him to stay in bed. He reaches up and gently removes America’s glasses, tucking them into his breast pocket.
“You’re just saying that!”
Reply
Leave a comment