All Madame Le Tron could do was shake her head….
All Giselle could do was whine, whine, whine. “Every year it is the same. Really,
Madame? The studio is already
clean. We clean all the time. All we do is clean.”
“Giselle, if you are going to do nothing but complain, perhaps
you should return to your campus, and this year I will keep your share of the
business profits, and you can get a job cleaning the dorms. Lord knows that
they could use it -- especially yours.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?” retorted Giselle, as she got
up from her knees and pushed back a lock of her golden blonde hair with the
back of her rubber-gloved hand.
“Mais no, Mon Cherie, I was going for clever,” winked Madame
Le Tron.
“And I am going for some lemonade now that little bit of mud
is cleaned up.”
“I beg to differ, Mon Cherie, regarder,” replied Madame, her
black rubber-gloved finger pointing to the place that Giselle had just
scrubbed. “Looks to me like you missed a
spot.”
“C’est impossible!” exclaimed Giselle, as she turned on her
heel to inspect her work. “Honestly, I just scrubbed that spot. This is ridiculous. Alice, you evil little
specter, if this is one of your pranks, I’ll….”
Whirring sounds started from the back of the studio, followed
by the approach of buzzers and bells.
“NO NEED TO RAISE YOUR VOICE, MADAMOISELLE…. LE PETITE PHANTOM
AND GHOULISH GORDON… ARE ON A TOY RESCUE MISSION….THEY CANNOT BE FOUND,” Managing Mike explained in
his metered mechanical tone.
“Well,
that is just grand,” growled Giselle, pulling off her rubber gloves and throwing
them on the floor. “As I said, I am
going to get some lemonade. Anyone else
want some?” And without waiting for a
reply, she stomped off to the break room and slammed the door.
The
recyle-tron turned to Madame Le Tron as a series of ????????? printed out across the screen imbedded
in his robotic chest.
“I’m
not sure, but I think I might have an idea,” replied Madame.
At
that moment, ol’ Joe rolled in, his eyebolts rotating to follow his beloved Giselle’s
path. Then he tripped head-over-wheel
upon Giselle’s discarded wash bucket.
“My
dearest Joe, she’s still got it, hmmm? Ever since Giselle was petite and things
got to be too much to bear, that temper of hers would just flare. I think our petite co-ed is a bit overwhelmed,
mais qui? Here, let me help you, s’il
vous plait?”
Madame
bent down and removed the bucket from the old recyle-tron’s box-like head,
stifling her smile as Managing Mike helped him to his wheel.
“Maybe
you should have a talk with her, Joe. Managing
Mike and I can clean up here.”
Joe nodded as the water seemed to blow gently from his brow, and he wheeled
away.
Madame
and Mike turned to see the same gentle wind move the spilled wash water back
into the galvanized scrub bucket. And the muddy little footprints seemingly
disappeared.
Madame
looked at Managing Mike and queried,
“Spa-treatment?”
Mike
nodded his head and blinked his eyebolts.
“And
Joe,” she called after the old recyle-tron, “I think we got the ‘Spring Cleaning’
under control. You can tell Giselle it’s time for the thaw. They’re here!”
A
bright-sounding “PING” was heard in reply.
Giselle
looked up from her untouched lemonade at the familiar sound of happiness in ol
Joe’s “PING.” Tears began to fall from her
eyes. The door slowly opened, and ol’
Joe the recyle–tron appeared.
Ol’ Joe had
always been there for her as she grew up.
A guardian angel, he never let her out of his sight in good times and
bad. How did he know that she needed him now?
Joe slowly rolled in, and Giselle, careful to dry the tears from her eyes, not
wanting ol’ Joe to rust, entered his embrace.
"Talk to ol’ Joe - Joe…."
“Too
much on my mind, I guess. College is
hard, and it’s more than just the classes. Everything seems hard, all the new
people and places, and all the decisions that need to be made. I am trying my best, and yet it doesn’t seem
enough… and…I just snapped at Madame and Managing Mike, and…I feel like I can’t
do anything right.”
"FRESHMMEN–ITIS… FEAR OF FAILING…LOSS OF FAITH IN
ONESELF…IT…WILL…PASS."
All
Giselle could do was smile. That smile
turned into a giggle, and then a laugh!
“You
are adorable, Joe, and I love you so very much,’’ she cried.
A
soft glow and red light appeared to engulf ol’ Joe’s box-like head. And as if on cue, a wonderful and familiar scent
of lavender filled the air.
Giselle
whispered in awe, “Spring Thaw? But that’s impossible. The groundhog predicted six more weeks of
winter.”
Ol’
Joe raised his wrench-like arms in what appeared to be a shrug, and a gentle
wind blew open the break room door.
Yes,
it was true! Fairies fluttered
everywhere. Up from the darkness they
came. Elemental Fairies came each
year after the thaw. Fairies that could help, heal, and inspire
“Meditative Empowerment:”
Earth ~
Grounding one’s mind, body and soul!
Wind ~ Lightening
burdens!
Fire ~ Forcing
focus!
Water ~
Calming the “Whole!”
Each
of these beautiful doll-like creatures were fast at work finishing the job that
Madame Le Tron, Giselle, and the recycle-trons had just begun.
Stretching
down the hall, from the studio to the front parlor of La Maison De Le Tron,
lavender-scented candles were being lit by a fire fairy.
Giselle
giggled and clapped her hands with glee.
“C’mon, Joe! It’s spa-treatment
time!”
Giselle
ran ahead, and ol’ Joe followed.
When
she arrived, Madame was already reclining, with her feet resting upon her
favorite settee. She gestured to the old
red velvet couch, indicating for Giselle to join in the same.
A
calming and gentle wind seemed to swirl about the room, and an earthy smell
joined the lavender scent as the plants within the room gently swayed to and
fro. Candles twinkled everywhere.
Giselle
snuggled on to the familiar old couch and sighed.
“Let
me guess,” murmured Madame Le Tron. “Freshman-itis?”
“Uh-huh,”
Giselle sighed yet again.
They
lay quietly for a moment, as the healing power of fairy dust began to settle
in.
“You
are going to be fine, you know.”
“I
know,” Giselle replied.
Silence
filled the room as the gentle wind began to fade.
“Madame?”
“Qui,
Mon Cherie?”
“Why
now? The fairies only come after the
thaw!”
“Unless
they are called and a portal from below can be found.”
“ A
portal? Like a hole in the ground?”
“Qui,
Mon Cheri.”
“Oops,
I guess we never did fill the groundhog hole in,” Giselle giggled softly. “But
who made the call?”
Far
off in the distance, the haunting sound of childlike laughter could be heard,
followed by the soft sound of tapping tap shoes.
“Alice?”
questioned Giselle.
“Let’s
just say, your guardian angel,” Madame answered.
“Mais
qui, Madame, it seems I have quite a few!”
Ah
yes, once again all is well that ends well in the “Wonderful World of le Tron!”
Au
Revior
And "Merci" for your continuing support. Do, join us again next Friday at 3pm Central, when we begin our new series - FAIRY LORE!
Hope to see you then!
Our overall goal to -
