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For this rarest landscape, keeping silent should be the only choice. All the poems as well as those poets have flown away from the planet, the Wasteland. The only things she can feel and touch is the warmth from Bedivere’s body. But soon the owner left, and the left ran out in the wind. It seems like on the top of a 28,251-feet mountain, covered in deep snow and glaciers. Snowing, snowing,Tristan holds a prescription and on his way to the designated pharmacy, which stocks his specific medicine. Liverpool has been snowing for almost 2 weeks.
Tristan is standing below the branded bus stop sign, thinking of something that happened a long time ago.
The reminiscence almost breaks his heart again. Something happened in the Pendragon family. Gawain wasn’t here at that time and they lost all contact with him. It wasn’t, definitely, wasn’ t the common situation. Gawain was almost the steadiest one among them, who seemed never to have lost his sense. Lancelot was suffering from the dipolar disorder. His hands kept shocking and even could not pick up the accurate number of the tablet of sertraline he should take daily.
None believed his hands used to hold a 16 pound fully loaded rifle.
Tristan arrived half an hour after Mash Kyrielight, Lancelot’s adopted daughter, called him. This girl tried to call him ten times and finally succeeded in the 11 times. After the day, Tristan heard from Bedivere: this brave girl called everyone who she assumed could help her dad.She checked the recent contact list in his phone and called everyone she trusted. She tried to get called Gawain at the very beginning but failed. She also could not get any reply from others at first 30 mins . Tristan was too ashamed to admit that he was napping.
But Tristan rejoiced that he replied on time- at least not too late to address the “problem”. He opened the door and saw Lancelot, a 6 feet 4.5 inch- man, crying and curling up in his 12-year-old daughter’s embrace. Mash is always clever. She knew if she called 999 or the clinic Lancelot regularly attended, Lancelot may lose her custody.
He should get better after living with Mash, and he ( at least in his mind) was trying his best to keep everything on the right track. Tristan helped Mash to tidy up and picked up the useful items from the mess. Recordings were broken into several jagged pieces. One has a note , written with a marker: Mash, 10 years old, MoonRiver. Tristan knew what it was. Mash played the guitar and sang. Gawain taught her. Although his skill wasn’t as good as Tristan. But Tristan believed he was the one who was most suitable to teach her. Gawain used to be Lancelot’s “roommate”. Learning how to play a new instrument needs lots of time, practice, and patience. Gawain was and is the one who is most likely to teach her in any case.
The record player survived from this damage. It was still playing a classic guitar at the end of this tragedy. On such an unprototypical summer day, on such a rainy day, Gawain, the dream marker, was not in their home or on the stage of this cheesy theater, distanced from any action. He left or ran away, like Bediever did, like Lancelot, and like Tristan himself, in some special time, for some meaningless reasons.
Yearning from a steam siren leads Tristan to draw back to reality.
Bus delays as usual. It is still snowing. Now he is in the rare (maybe not that rare), post- industrial city. Here is the dock. Snow covers all the buildings. The dock is a black point and the main roads are the black lines. Together, there is a stave or a paper strip in the boîte à musique. He should be a poet. Depression is his personality rather than a mental health issue.
So he comes back to his memory again. At the Action 3 of that tragedy, Bedivere was also here. He pacified Mash. To be honest, Tristan was not good at it. He believed in Bedivere. Bedivere looked after Altria in the past few years. Tristan believed that he and Lancelot shared the same sense. So he supported Lancelot to stand up by the arm and guide him to his bedroom. Before leaving the messy living room, Tristan looked back and saw the tears in Mash’s eyes.
“He will be fine.” Bediever’s words were almost a whisper.
Bedivere should be called KNIGHT in this action.
“I promise,” Bedivere said, “He will be fine. Would you like to share some hot chocolate with me on this rainy day, lady?
“ ……”
“I'm so sorry.” The door was closed. The man with pale face was sitting in the bed, “I’m very sorry for everything I have done……”
Thankfully he didn’t ask where Gawain was, otherwise Tristan had to make up and he hated it. Or he can tell him directly “ I don’t know. Go to ask Bedivere, Agolovate, Kay, Mordved, or Gawain himself.”
Tristan said nothing but kept silent, and Lancelot began to tell everything in France, in their mother tongue. The dark purple long hair was surrounding his shoulder, like a kind of toxic waterwood, if there are really this sort of fucking planet in this world. Waterwood hided his expression.
“ I can’t….. I can’t stop doing that…… Tell Mash I’m sorry for all……”
“ You, you should tell her every word by yourself,not me.” Tristan opened his eyes, which were always closed. His irls had rarest colours, like gold or sunshine. He rarely claimed, instead he liked troubadour tone, using lyrical language to state.
Lancelot seemed to be shocked “ You should… Both of us should know that apologies could be useless in some cases.”
“A sincere apology is the best thing you can do. Go out and do something…… playing your guitar, singing a song…… Setting up a remainder to have your medication daily.” Tristan leaned himself against the wall,“ A sad song. You have become a heart breaker several times, especially for girls.”
“ Hey… Stop saying that”
“ None can help you to get the forgiveness. You have to do it by yourself. Both of us know that, don't we?"
Lancelot could not rebut.
SO, what happened? Tristan was going to ask, but someone was tapping the door at the same time.
“ Come in.” Lancelot answered with a soft, slow and hoarse voice.
This was Mash, “ Do you feel better, papa?” She smiled, still with a little fear, “ Take some water? I put some honey in it.”
Tristan saw the tears gathered thickly in Lancelot’s eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Lancelot hugged Mash tightly, “ for everything…”
Tristan and Bedivere left. And Bedivere told Tristan that Gawain was flying to L.A. for business. Although Lancelot avoided meeting Gawain and other Pendragon family members, Gawain did not have any reasons to regret Mash. And, anyway, for better or for worse, the pains were always here. Lancelot used to break down Altria Pendragon’s business. She guides him in and after the war, then gives him a job and reason to earn himself. However, he damaged the whole thing, even shot Gareth, Gawain’s younger sister.3 days ago before this mistakes, Lancelot chated with Tristan and sought the suggestions from the most romantic man in his team, “ how to ask Gawain ‘ Do you want to marry me?’”
Almost every Pendragon family member knew that Gawain and Lancelot were best friends. But you didn’t have sex with your “ best friend” regularly (let's say weekly) and kept this kind of relationship for many years. Lancelot made the decision to turn it on and come out. Whatever, but everything went worries. All the memories and days they spent together become shades one by one. The reminiscence, the passion, the glory, all of all, were thrown into shadow, to the other world. Lancelot stopped talking with anyone and tried his best to let the memory fade and wither smoothie with age.
Of course, he failed. The only thing he got was just bipolar disorder, which was more serious than before.
「liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantiu, te virginum chorus excipiat.」
“ That’s a sad song, my friend…..”
Standing in the small bus station in Liverpool, Tristan mutters. Then he hears the voice of waves, the melody born from sea and wind. Snowing, snowing, he remembers that day he and Bedivere were under the same umbrella, watching the rain falling, like tears.
But at least, this story has a happy ending. Gawain replied to Mash's message once his fly was loaded. They began to talk to each other again and Gareth invited Mash to a party with other Pendragon families. Mash met Galahad, Lancelot’s son, growing up with Altria Pendragon. Mash was shy and ambivalent. Gareth was gonna comment on Lancelot with some unpleasant words. But finally he invited his little lady to play guitar together in the garden. Altria shared a snack with them and wondered
“ You guys have a similar hair style, the fringe.” She pointed out and smiled.
The bus is coming and snow has covered its top. Tristan thanks and regrets a girl who guides him to the priority seat. He got photophobia after the war, so he has to close his eyes or wear a pair of sunglasses. Gifts from the war, leaving death and disorder. But it should be fine on such a cloudy and snowy day. The bus sways from side to side. Tristan turns on his phone and checks the messages which Mash sent to them within their INS group.
“ We are going to fly to Melbourne from the Gold Coast. The name of the older airport in Melbourne is Avalon. How pretty!”
“ Enjoy your winter break, lady. Enjoy your summer time and sunshine in the southern hemisphere. I feel so cold. Liverpool has been snowing for almost two weeks. (T⌓T) ”
Then Tristan clicks the self-portal Mash shared just now. Gawain is smiling as usual. Lancelot looks a little bit shy and Mash is with a victory sign. Galahad is sitting behind Mash without any expression.
“A lovely song, isn’t it?” Tristan mutters.
Suddenly he strongly misses Bedivere. Bus stops. Snowing is still falling, falling into the sculpture of The Beatles, covering the abbey road they had passed, and the lamp lights are turned on. This city is approaching sunset time.
It takes such a long time to arrive at this pharmacy. He pulls the heavy glass door. The wind chime above this door is ringing, creating soothing and random melodies.
Tristan holds his prescription in his hand. None is in this pharmacy, except he and a pharmacist. The pharmacist is standing behind a chipping wood counter, below the light. He is smiling and he says “ Welcome, what could I help you with?”
“Yes.” Tristand looks into Bedivere’s eyes, “ I’m hungry since I spent such a long time to get there. May I have the pleasure to invite you to have dinner with me, Mr. Pharmacist? “