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*SLAM*
That was the shrill sound blaring out in Hometown’s mayoral office. Its existence was the result of the mayor – Carol’s – emotionally charged entrance through the door. She stormed to her desk with a scowl written all over her visage. A person who valued their life would not want to cross her path. Reaching her destination, she plopped down on the chair in front and her face thudded onto the hardwood, a primal groan from her mouth also made itself audible.
I. Hate. The County Commissioners! Assholes! Some nerve they have, always trying to stick their grubby little fingers in MY town’s affairs. If only duels were still legal and I could run my sword through their sternums…
Carol finished her enraged musings and lifted her head to glance into the mirror on the side of her desk. She saw her hair frizzy and her blue jacket disheveled, a scoff arose – it was unbecoming of her self-image. She quickly fixed both issues. There. Now, down to business.
Affixing her line of sight towards her computer, she pulled up the monthly budget. She prepped herself for an extensive readjustment of it, lest she be forced to attend some (nonsensical) ethics hearing for ignoring the Commissioners ‘friendly suggestions.’
Luck was not on the mayor’s side this day, it seemed, as her cellphone’s Carol of Bells ringtone started playing. Her husband was calling. He knew that she despised being bothered at work, unless it was incredibly important. That meant a disaster occurred.
…Fantastic. MORE problems!
She clicked the answer button and exasperatedly sighed out, “Rudolph. What is the issue?”
The man of the hour’s voice labored its way through the phone to reply, “Ugh… Jingle Bells… I’m not doing so hot right now…”
Her ears flopped down in concern at his feeble tone. Guilt flooded her system for getting moody at her husband while he was in this state. “Rudy... how bad off are you? What happened?”
His response laced sheepishness with the established discomfort, “Well… You see, I, uh… saw a bit of (expired) eggnog in the back of the fridge… and swigged it down…”
That guilt vanished instantaneously and her ears bristled back up in agitation. She spit, “Dammit Rudolph! What is wrong with you!? Why must you do such idiotic things!?”
“Eh, c’mon… Everyone knows those ‘best by’ dates are bullcrap!”
Carol pinched the bridge of her nose and passive-aggressively queried, “And how has that philosophy worked out for you, today, Rudy?”
“Uhhhhhhh… Badly?”
“Hmm… Really? Who could have ever guessed that consuming expired products might end in a poor manner?” The sarcasm bled profusely out of every single syllable in that rhetorical question. “And, so help me, if your die, I will figure out a way to resurrect you and kill you again with a strike from my prized blade!”
“Yeesh… Carol… trust me, it’s bad, but not that bad! Why so prickly, darling?”
The woman gave another sigh and stilled her rage. “Apologies, dear. This morning has already been awful. The County Commissioners stopped over for a visit.”
“Damn… That bad, huh? Sorry I made the day worse- URK!”
Though the concerned wife was unable to witness her husband, she could picture him clutching his stomach in agony at that moment. “I know… I just worry about you, especially when you make terrible decisions.”
“…Yeah and you worry about a ton of other things, too. That’s because you’re the most caring person in the whole universe.”
She affectionately snorted. “Flattery will get your nowhere… but it is still appreciated.”
“I try, I try…” The reindeer patriarch’s timbre grew pensive. “…But that’s enough about my stupid choices; I’ve dragged myself to the hospital. You need to head home and watch the girls. I caught Dess crying out of the corner of my eye before I left…”
Well prior to him saying that, Carol already skedaddled from town hall and was trekking posthaste towards their house. “One step ahead of you, dear. I would be in worse disarray if something terrible happened to one of our children.”
“Hah-Hah! Should’ve known!”
“I will bring them in a few hours to check on you.”
“Nice! That’ll cheer me up, big time!”
“And, more importantly, cheer up Dess.”
“I’ll make sure to tell her the doctors kicked that salmonella’s ass!”
That declaration of his assuredly came accompanied with a crooked grin. A smile of similar proportion fixed itself upon Carol’s face and she fondly spoke, “You will also give that salmonella an ass kick or two, right?”
“Hell yeah I will! Oop! I gotta go! Love ya, Jingle Bells.”
“And I love you too, Red, goodbye,” was her parting. She swapped the phone with the keyring to the holiday manor that was in her pants pocket. Three more minutes passed and she arrived. Wasting no time, she unlocked the gate and then the front door.
Inside was a treasure trove of Christmas themed paraphernalia. It was a winter wonderland of epic proportions that put shopping centers to shame – both in content and timeframe, considering that it was the beginning of summer. The household’s parents deep (borderline obsessive) adoration for the most wonderful time of the year as the cause. Though, the atmosphere completely lacked the usual holly-jolly energy (for obvious reasons).
Carol scanned the living room in search of her eldest daughter. She discovered her behind the couch pacing to-and-fro with furrowed brows. Huh… must have gotten that habit from me. She called out for her, “December.”
The girl’s head flicked instantly in the direction of the voice and she shrieked, “MOMMY!!!”
A speeding blur crashed into the mother’s legs. Said blur turned her head upwards and peered with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Dark tear lines stained her cheeks; she had clearly been crying for a prolonged period.
The confused and despondent fawn managed to stutter, “Wh-what h-happened ta d-da-daddy? H-he was hacking into da t-toilet and l-left me alone… What’s wr-wrong with him?”
Carol rolled her eyes. Multiple things, really. Most of all, his dumbass overconfidence. She had enough restraint to avoid expressing that out loud and instead said, “Daddy foolishly drank rancid eggnog and, predictably, became sick. Let this be a learning endeavor – ensure food and drinks have not gone bad before you consume them. And do not fret, baby girl, he will recover.”
Dess sniffed. “Y-ya s-sure?”
The mother untangled her daughter’s clutched arms and crouched to pat her on the noggin. “Very sure. We can visit him at the hospital this evening and prove it. In the meantime, you should pick an activity to take your mind off your father’s troubles. I need to check on your sister.”
“O-OK, mommy.” The girl wiped her face with her sleeve and scampered off.
Carol ascended the stairs to Noelle’s room. The door was shut and situating her ear to listen proved that not even a peep came from within. She must be asleep. Quietly creaking it open and passing the threshold, the reindeer tip-hooved to the crib against the left wall. Curled up inside was an adorable fluffy two-year old. She was out like a light and blissfully unaware of the chaos that unfurled earlier.
Despite being the youngest, little angel, you are the most well behaved member of the family.
The mother leaned over the bars of the crib to give the gentlest of pecks onto Noelle’s forehead. A pause… No stirring. Good. She thought to herself, exiting to room as noiselessly as she came in.
Next course of action was finding Dess again, so Carol climbed back down the stairs. And there she was, slowly kicking her legs back-and-forth on the floor next to the coffee table. It seemed she nabbed herself a coloring book and was hyper-focused on purposefully scribbling outside the lines, as if it was her life’s greatest aspiration. Ah, my adorable free-spirited baby girl and her can-do attitude. Never change. Never change…
With everything A-Okay, the mother became fully aware of the sheer tautness in her shoulders. I should heed the advice I gave December and remove the stress from my mind. She bit her lip momentarily in consideration and then reached a conclusion. Of course!
The epiphany that the matriarch had took her trajectory towards the kitchen. She entered, passed the dining table, and stood in front of her object of desire – her sleek, white piano. Nothing better suited than my favorite method of destressing. Her eyes narrowed. However…
For a split second, Carol was concerned that her activity would disturb the toddler on the second floor. It was unfounded, as she immediately remembered it would take nothing short of a bomb to wake Noelle, due to inheriting her father’s sleeping aptitude. How could I forget that fact? I absolutely need this – ASAP.
With all distractions dispelled, she took a seat and placed her hands upon the piano to begin a melodious symphony. Her fingers danced over the keys akin to soldiers marching in tandem at the direction of their drill sergeant. She closed her eyes instinctually halfway through her home recital. Each chord rang out undisturbed, even without sight, as her experience with this piece numbered well over a hundred.
Unbeknownst to the musician, an audience had assembled. For when she started, her fawn’s attention left from drawing and pointed directly at the kitchen door, only for her to then to spring up and stride into the room, slinking beside her mom in awe of the exquisite harmony being produced.
The little girl felt the groove in her bones and gave an energetic jig while humming along. She would not cease, for the joy of the song felt never-ending!
End it did, however, as Carol reached the final note. She followed with a deep, pleased sigh. The day’s extreme tension already vacated her spirit.
With renewed vigor, she prepared for round two of tickling the ivories, but was suddenly interrupted by exuberant clapping. The standing ovation shocked the mother with a jolt and she finally noticed her daughter, exclaiming, “Oh! December! How long have you been watching?”
The individual in question answered: “Da whole time ya made dat awesome music!”
Carol gave a soft smirk and replied, “Enjoyed my show, did you?”
“Uh-huh! How’d ya do it?”
“By playing this musical instrument; it is called a piano.”
“Ooooo. Can I play it, too?”
The mother felt a smidge of excitement bubble within herself at the prospect of her daughter interested in playing. She retorted, “Of course, if you can handle my teaching.”
Dess hollered unabashed. “I wanna play it!”
“You REALLY want to?”
“Really! Really!” The girl hopped numerous times to accentuate her point.
“Alright then, let us begin.” With a big grin, Carol swiftly scooped her daughter into her lap causing a giggle in response. “Now dear, gather your bearings and study the instrument closely,” she finished the statement with a dramatic wave over the piano.
Dess’ eyes sparkled at the opportunity to create beautiful music. In her position, the instrument was the size of a behemoth. She refused to be intimidated! …Until she arched downwards. In her line of sight sprawled what looked like a freakishly long row of teeth. She pondered worriedly if this thing would start chomping and try to devour her whole.
Before the thoughts escalated further, her mom chimed in, “Those in front of you are called piano keys.”
Gaping in confusion, she sputtered, “Wuh, keys? Dey don’t look able ta open a door.”
“Ah, true. These keys do not affect any doors. Rather, you could say they unlock something more complex – musical melodies, like the one I made. Does that help you understand? ”
“Ohhh… Oki! Dat kinda makes sense!”
“Alright, now,” Carol shifted her focus from Dess to the piano, “dictating them to your command is quite simple.” She taps the first few notes of the Deltarune hymn that Rudy hums occasionally. She deemed it a good demonstration for her young novice with its basic, but strong melody. Staring expectantly, she uttered, “There. I want you to give that a whirl.”
With a blink-and-you-miss-it nod and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop, the enthusiastic student pounded the keys with her full might.
Carol felt herself flinch at the cacophonous display. Had this been anyone other than her little 5 year old girl, a verbal lashing at the inadequacy would have followed. Luckily, she remembered that important fact a hair’s-breadth before causing a crying fit. Being a mother always manages to be far more difficult than even all the bureaucratic bullshit my job entails.
Sighing, she prepared to inform the girl of the less than stellar attempt (gently). She looked down and, surprisingly, the fawn had already scrunched her face in dissatisfaction at her own performance and huffed out:
“What happened? Dat sounded bad! Nothin’ like your nice playin’!”
“Well, see dear, you banged open palms on the keys and, as a result, pressed down several next to your intended target. You need to practice precision. I know you love being rambunctious, but that is not going to work here.”
Dess’ frown deepened at the criticism. Taking notice, Carol added, “However, you followed the order of my example correctly. That is important and impressive – good job!” And her little girl’s smile returns. “I want you to try again.”
“…Awright!”
Boring her eyes into the instrument with a determined purpose, she plinked the keys less forcefully; unfortunately, it was still a sloppy effort and sounded as such.
“Gaaah! No, still wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!! WRONG!!!” Each scream of frustration was followed by a slam of fists onto the hapless piano.
Seizing her daughter’s wrists in an instant, Carol sternly scolded, “December! Control yourself this instant! The piano is expensive! And you will NOT improve by acting in that kind of anger!”
The bundle of fury refused to halt squirming and tears prickled at her eyes.
Changing tactics, the mother released her grip and dove in for an embrace. The fawn stiffened and went silent.
“Failure feels simply awful, yes? I know. I have certainly been there before.” Carol moved to tenderly stroke her fawn’s hair and continued with, “It makes you want to burst and include anything nearby in the ensuing explosion. Bottling it up will do no good, nor just smashing things. You should let it all out in a healthier way.” She ended her comfort with a kiss to the forehead.
Tears began trailing down Dess’ cheeks and she sobbed, “Wh-wh-why is it so hard! I-I’m pressing da keys in da right o-order! I should be better!”
“You CAN be better, but only if you listen. I already told you what you have to do.” A pause and a chin scratch. “Though, perhaps I need to demonstrate in a more effective manner.” Grabbing her little girl’s hands once more, Carol proceeded to guide a finger to press each of the earlier notes.
With a knowing look, the self-made teacher asked, “Did you feel the difference?”
A reluctant gesture of agreement and she stammered, “Y-yes. I did…”
“Great! Now honey, give it one more go. I know you can do it.” The reindeer gave her best confident grin for encouragement.
Dess took a shaky breath and geared up, carefully keeping in mind the instructions. Nothing happened for a few tense seconds as a bout of nervousness at possibly screwing up plagued her gut. She turned her head towards her mom and was met with an unchanged expression. She could do it. She tapped each note in the same order with just one finger, lightly. It came out perfect.
Gasping in shocked delight at the success, she cheered, “I did it! Yay! Yay! I did it!! It sounded pretty, like yours mommy!”
“See? That was all it required. You did wonderful, December!”
The praise emboldened her daughter’s enthusiasm and she started pumping her fists in the air.
It would be obvious to anyone giving even a cursory glance that Dess was beyond overjoyed, so the mother went to ask a vital question: “Do you love playing the piano? And do you wish to improve at it?”
“YEAH! I wanna be a master!”
“Well, your goal will necessitate frequent and involved practice sessions. Do you think you have the mettle? Rome was not built in a day, after all.”
Tilting her head in confusion, the girl babbled, “Wuzzat mean?”
Not missing a beat, Carol said, “Oh, it’s just an expression that means the mastery you seek takes time and difficult effort.”
“Not too super much, right?”
“Well, that depends on how naturally skilled you are. I think you have shown promising aptitude and…” She trailed off, shaking her head before going on a tirade that would overwhelm her fawn. “…But that’s enough about future lessons, today. You want to have fun and I yearn for more relaxation. How about I play more songs? What do you say to that, baby girl?”
“Yeah! Yeah! More mommy music!!” Dess shouted her response in glee while bobbing her head up and down like she downed a whole mug of triple sugary hot chocolate.
The mother felt her daughter vibrating in anticipation and a giant beam plastered itself on her face. Yes, she couldn’t feel more content if she tried. Softly placing her hands on the piano, she readied her favorite classical piece. The first note chimed out clear and–
*CRASH*
The sour sound reverberated off the kitchen walls. It’s cause? None other than Carol’s own clenched fists slamming onto the keys; it was truly a miracle they didn’t break.
Hunched over the offending instrument and panting akin to a feral beast, the only thing plastered visibly on her face was deep seeded fiery rage. For those who knew only of her reputation, this behavior was a complete heel-turn of her normally calm, cold, and collected demeanor. To her husband and friends, this was the Carol that would pop up when profoundly upset and that was an understatement.
This is wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!! WRONG!! Just one note and all I can think of is Dess! My favorite method of destressing – ruined! Everything is ruined. Hah, but I already knew that.
Those thoughts pushed her to begrudgingly take a deep breath and compose herself. Her gritted teeth fell into a more typical frown and she stood up straight, shoulders rigid as a log. Once again, Hometown’s efficient, yet frightening and level-headed mayor returned to existence. She wished that the proud, loving, and joyful mother from that memory could be here instead… alas, there was nothing to smile about – not since what happened to her beloved child.
No longer capable of stomaching being in the same room as the piano, the reindeer matriarch swiftly strode out of it and stomped up the stairs towards her bedroom. In no time, she was face-to-face with a conspiracy board nailed upon the back wall. An extremely dedicated effort had been put forth in its creation. The cogs in Carol’s mind worked overdrive and her eyes held a determined purpose that bored straight into the cork.
No distractions.
No rest.
No happiness.
Not until I see my baby girl again.
No matter the days it takes.
No matter the lengths it requires.
No matter the bridges that must burn.
I will get her back.