Young Writers Society

Risen

Part 3

Lucia knew that she had been dreaming seconds before her eyes opened.

She could vaguely tell the difference from the up and down motion of the real horse she sat on now and the bobbing of her imaginery horse that was really her father's knee from a happy past. She remembered their games vivdly.

The black, curly haired toddler ran to the black, curly haired man yelling, "Daddy! Play!"

The man's scraggly shaven face, alit with its smile, kissed her forehead as the little one was thrown high into the air. He had been gone for more than a week, but in an instant that was forgotten by both. She came down reaching one pudgy hand out to grab his nose and giggling bubbles. It's sounded like bubbles popping in the air, and this mixed strangely with the man's deep chuckle.

He sat slowly plopping the toddler on his knee. The knee began to jumped up and down, and the girl squealed.

"Ride the horsie, all through town! Ride the horsie, don't fall dooowwwn!!" With that her small frame was shot into the air, giggling as always.

They both sat laughing, "Again, again, Daddy!"

And the dream began to fade. It was to quick for her to keep it there, so she let it go flit off to wherever dreams do go. Thankfully, the memory did not go.

Fresh sunlight filled her line of vision dizzying her balance. It nummed her aching head confusing her train of thought. In a half second she forgot and remembered that she was chugging through Rome on her way home. She had to speak to someone and she had two people right for the job. The only problem was would they give her the truth. Lucis couldn't understand how she could doubt their word. They had never kept the secret that her mother had died in child birth and that Lucia herself had barely survived. She knew this and had never questioned it. Until now, now that a complete stranger had mentioned her mother's death, seeming to know a detail that she didn't. Even still, why would she die in childbirth when she didn't a desire or clue on how to raise a kid. Yet somewhere in the pit of her stomach she knew that she hadn't heard the whole story.

Stephen was ahead of her stearing both of their horses around the opening stands and early-goers in the streets. A closed book in his lap read on the cover 'The Physiology of Sleeping Habits'. It could never be right for Stephen to be without a book.

"Stephen?"

His head turned slowly his eyes showing the apparent signs of missing a night's sleep. She felt a silent pulse of guilt for sleeping at least two days. The last thing she remembered they were on a train, and she was biting her thumb at a frilly peacock who had called them a dirty name and demanded that she hide herself from the sight of decent people.

The woman's face was everything unpleasant with her nose hitched up to her eyebrows.

Lucia smiled sweetly, "Madam, if you wouldn't like to see, close your eyes."

The woman's hrrumph was perfect to develop a laugh in Lucia, which she let out hoarsely.

Stephen grumbled, "We're almost home."

"I don't know what you should be grumpy about," she pestered him, "You only slept four days straight in Paris."

He sighed and muttered something like, "Vacation is over."

She couldn't help but smile he was always grumpy if he hadn't slept, which was very often. Surprisingly even with all his extensive reading and her obvious draw to trouble, Stephen's nightlife was much better than hers. Stephen actually went to parties and associated with the opposite sex, while she sat watching over the graveyard all night waiting for the infrequent bell of a dead man to ring.

"I need to go to confession," SHe climbed down off her horse walking along beside his.

he coughed announcing a spat of sarcasim, "I guess so, for whatever you were dreaming of on the train."

"What?"

He looked down at her a smirk brightening his face, "You were moaning and carrying on like you were in pain."

"I dont remember -"

"Then you kicked a whole in the floor board," he laughed and narrowed his eyes, "Which I had to pay for."

"I'll pay you - "

" - The women clucked - "

" - Snobs - "

His eyes widened comically, "The men snickered under their mustaches - "

" - Pigs - "

" - And I threw books at you."

She squinted her eyes up at him, " Thanks."

He nodded.

"You could have woken me," Lucia smirked at brotherly love.

"I was having to much fun."

They looked up at the Vatican cathedral getting closer to them, and Stephen veared to the right and Lucia ducked under the horse to get out of his way. Stephen grumbled on, "See you when I wake up."

She smiled at her poor cousin, "Sweet dreams."

"Ciao."

"Ciao, bella," Lucia strode over the brick streets tasting pastries along her way to confession. She wondered who would be confessing more. Her or the priest.