Walt E. Disney High

Chapter 44

BELLE

"Good morning, Estelle," I greeted the familiar nurse, who smiled widely at me.

"Ah, bonjour, Belle!" she said in my mother language. She was my father's main nurse, as he only remembered French. "Comment ça-va?"

"Je vais bien, merci. Et tu?" I responded, the words feeling warm and welcoming to my mouth.

"J'ai été mieux," she said, which earned a sympathetic smile from me. Estelle switched to English. "Your father has been excited to see you."

"Good. I think I'll say hello to everyone before, though, if that's all right?"

"Be my guest."

I waved and walked down the first hall, knocking on a door and slowly entering. Each patient I greeted seemed to brighten at my face, but some needed reminding of who I was. Old Jamsie tried to throw a clock at me when I walked in, but Granny Red held me in her room for almost twenty minutes to tell me about her grandchild's high school graduation, which she believed was last month, but actually was ten years ago.

Finally, I knocked softly on the door of my father's room: Maurice Macreaux. "Come in," a nurse said. I opened the door and Nurse Kade smiled at me and exited to give us some space.

"Hello? Who is it?" my father said in rushed French, his wide eyes glancing around in a flurry.

"Dad, it's me," I said gently, walking slowly and standing by his bed. "Belle."

His glazed green eyes looked up at me. They were empty. "Belle?" he asked, after a pause. "Do I know...?"

But then, something clicked in his brain, and his eyes sparked. "Belle!" he cried, sitting up to embrace me tightly. "Oh, Belle, I'm so glad you're here."

I released him and pulled up a chair next to his bed as he fiddled nervously with his blanket. It was the one mother had made for him before she passed away, before I knew her. "Why?" I asked. "Is there something wrong?"

My dad flinched, shivering a little and darting his eyes from side to side. "Belle...there's a beast."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Pardon? A beast?"

He nodded fervently. "It's keeping me captive. However did you get in here? How did he let you in? The castle...it's a castle, Belle! I had never seen it, but Philippe and I took a wrong turn on the way to the inventor's faire, and we were in the woods! I had nowhere else to go...it was cold and dark, and the castle opened its doors for me, and the furniture..the furniture talked! That footrest right there—it's a dog!" He finished his sputtering French story, clutching my hand tightly and his white face getting closer to mine.

I tried not to sigh. He was getting worse by the day — I had visited him just two days ago for Christmas, and within that time he had hallucinated this entire story that could potentially be dangerous for him. And what could this beast be?

But all I could do was put my hand on top of his and say comfortingly, "I'm sure you're safe here. Remember what mother used to say? 'Courage, mon chére.' Be courageous."

He nodded, seeming to calm down, but by the increasing milkiness of his eyes, I could tell he was only forgetting about his whole story. "Are you excited for Christmas?" he asked distantly.

I pressed my lips together. "Dad, Christmas was two days ago. Remember?"

He looked at me, and the lines in his forehead deepened. "Oh...oh, yes, of course. Two days ago." He was lying.

I looked down sadly before changing the subject. "I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow."

"Why? I just went, Belle. Stay here in Giverny for a while."