Chapter 7, The Vegetable Speaks

Chapter 7, The Vegetable Speaks

A Chapter by Naomi Bloom
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The seventh chapter of "Wilde Horses Couldn't Stop Me!"

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XIV


Milo produced a key from his robes and used it to open the door to the girl’s room.


Milo continued to feign innocence, “I hope you’re right about this Kida.  I have so much to ask her!”


They found the girl sitting on her bed, casually studying an Atlantean writing tool, similar to a quill.  She looked startled, but excited to see other people.  Other forms of life.  


Kida began, “Hello.  Welcome to Atlantis!  I am Kidagakash, queen of Atlantis and this is my husband, Milo Thatch!  He is from the surface, like you!”


Beatrice stopped listening to Kida at “husband.”  So Milo was married to this strange woman with white hair.  She had always pegged him as the sort of man who wouldn’t be very good at wooing women.  The sort of man that might love a woman like herself since he had few prospects.  She decided she should at least try to be happy for him.  His wife was absolutely gorgeous.  He must be so happy with her.  He must wonder how he ever got her to marry him. She must try to be happy for him.  And for her.  But it hurt.  She used to dream about Milo.  She used to believe he might love her.  It hurt to know that they could only be friends.  If that.  She mustn’t let it show.


“So now that you know about Atlantis, I would like to learn about you,” Kida finished, “what is your name?”


The white-haired woman seemed kind.  So she wasn’t just a beautiful woman, she was the entire package.  Beatrice wanted to cry.  She held it in well.


“I am Beatrice.  Beatrice Wilde.”


“I knew it!  I knew I knew you,” Milo said, “Yes… I remember… Do you remember me?  We worked at the museum together.”


It seemed half-fake, half-real, the way Milo said it, as if he couldn’t decide whether he was all-out lying or not.  Either way, it was all wrong.  This moment should have happened differently.


“Yes.  I do remember you,” she looked at Kida, politely trying to include her in the conversation, “He worked in the boiler room and I worked at the front desk.  I’m surprised you remember me.  We were really just acquaintances.”


“Milo, you didn’t tell me this!” Kida said.


“Well, I only had a hunch.  Hearing your voice confirmed it.”


“Um, are we actually in… Atlantis?” Beatrice was still amazed by her surroundings.


“We sure are,” Milo grinned.


Beatrice held out a quill that she had found in her bedroom, “What does the writing on this say?”


Milo took the pen and studied it for a moment, “The truth will warm the soul.”


“That is the Atlantean motto,” Kida said.


“Darn!  I thought it said that the trees were warm here,” Beatrice sighed, “But that doesn’t quite make sense.”


“Don’t worry.  I could teach you if you want,” Milo said, “This talk of linguistics reminds me of the museum.  How is everyone there?”


“They all thought you were dead,” Beatrice said.


“Did anyone miss me?” Milo asked.


“Well, erm, most of us did, except Harcourt and his colleagues,” Beatrice lied.


She couldn’t bear to tell him that she was the only one who missed him.


“That Harcourt.  I wish he was here now so I could see the look on his face!”


Kida cleared her throat, “This is all very interesting, but I was wondering how you were brought to us.”


“Right,” Beatrice said, “Well, that is a very long and interesting story.”


“We have plenty of time.  Let’s hear it,” said Milo.


In truth, Beatrice hadn’t thought of any lies to use to answer his question.


“I guess I’ll wing it,” she thought to herself.


“Where do I start?” she said aloud, “Me and two of my friends from university were researching the whales around Iceland.  Wait a minute.  Where are they?”


Milo and Kida exchanged fearful glances.


“I’ll tell her,” Milo said to Kida.


He looked Beatrice in the eye, “I’m so sorry, Beatrice, but they are both dead.”


“What?”


“They are dead.  I’m really sorry.”


“A blond skinny guy and a middle-aged man with a black beard?”


“Yes,” Kida said.


“I thought so.  I was hoping they would survive somehow,” she felt a lump in her throat, “I remember George locked me in a closet and stuffed the bottom of the door so no water would get in.  I thought he had a plan to save himself, but I guess he didn’t.  He gave up his life to save me.  George was such a good friend to me, and now he’s… gone.”


She couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face.  She wiped her eyes with her hands.  Kida gave her a hanky.


“You must miss your other friend as well,” Kida said softly, “But just remember the good memories you had together.”


“Oh, him?  Jay?  Yes, I miss him too.”


She did not miss Jay one bit.  At least that despicable man was dead.  She had lost a dear friend but she had also lost an enemy, a tormentor, a monster.


It was so sad and hard to believe that she wouldn’t be able to see her friend again.


“Sadly, their funerals and burials took place while you were asleep,” Kida said.


“You were asleep for almost ten days,” Milo added.


“We thought you might have died with your friends,” said Kida.


“Oh my goodness.  This is so much to take in,” said Beatrice.


“If you’d like, we could hold another funeral for your benefit,” Kida offered.


“Oh, no.  Don’t worry about me,” her lips were quivering violently.  She was shaking, “I just need to be alone for a while.  Can I go to my room?”


“Yes,” said Kida, “If you need someone to talk to, I’m right here.”


Beatrice nodded and walked to her room quickly, feeling almost sickly.  She had had her fill of strangers and death and sleep.  She closed her door and started to weep.



© 2012 Naomi Bloom


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Added on December 29, 2012
Last Updated on December 29, 2012
Tags: fan fiction, lost empire, atlantis, disney, wilde, horses, beatrice, milo thatch, beatrice wilde, kida, kidagakash, books, merging, worlds, washington, smithsonian, love, betrayal, decisions, forbid


Author

Naomi Bloom
Naomi Bloom

Ontario, Canada



About
An amateur writer of poems, short stories and other types of writing. I recently graduated from university and I am trying to figure out what to do with my life. Victorian England, name meanings, be.. more..

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