Christmas 2002

Matt concentrated hard on his Digimon battles. He had the GA in his hand now, with the SP in his pocket. He kept alternating between the two as the whim took him and as too much of the Revue penetrated his consciousness. It made no difference though. Linda still finished the performance art thing she was doing, which was obviously impressive enough to solicit a proper round of applause. Matt didn\'t regret not looking up though. He was positive that his little screen held more worth in his life. Roger stood, still clapping and waited until Linda had cleared the makeshift stage. "Fantastic. Wonderful." The noise from the floor died down, just the rustling of Deontic\'s origami and the clacking of Near\'s dice penetrated. The pause was a little too long. Matt winced in anticipation. He was right. Roger fixed a fake smile onto his face and called out with a defeated tone. "Matt, how about you entertain us?"



Matt closed his eyes and closed his game. His heart numbing accordingly. He didn\'t look at a single soul, as he stood. But he didn\'t walk towards the stage. Instead he strolled to the back of the room, where there were small tables stacked up against the television and, more importantly, the piano. Roger frowned, but before he could protest, Mello spoke up. "There has been a change in the schedule."



Roger shook his head. "No-one said that they wanted the piano. We would have brought it onto the stage else." He raised his hand, as Matt teetered over the edge of a fold-up table, but the redhead slithered down the other side and crouched on the few inches of piano stool free of debris.



Mello rose from his seat. He reached underneath and pulled out a case and a small amplifer. Some of the older children groaned. They had had to put up with Mello\'s electric violin for three years, until he finally stopped trying to better his performance and moved onto other interests. It wasn\'t that he played it badly. It was that it was too predictable. Mello carried them to the stage. "Matt and I are joining forces for our part of the Revue." He took the violin out and plugged it in. "He\'s not doing his poem."



Matt watched him from behind his barricade. So did everyone else. Matt smiled. Then glared as a couple of the adults attempted to remove some of the furniture to give him room. Matt didn\'t want room. He wanted to be at the back, where no-one was watching him. As the nearest table started to move, Matt hands rose in the air. Without words, he communicated eloquently enough that if they touched another thing, he wasn\'t playing. Simple as that. "Leave it." Ann intervened. "There\'s nothing actually going to fall on him. Leave it."



Matt smirked at them and positioned his fingers on the keys again. He awaited Mello\'s cue. The blond boy was just standing there, his head bowed in the spotlight. It made a halo of the top of his head. Mello projected his voice as he spoke, though it was hardly necessary. The room wasn\'t large. "I had planned to perform a few stanzas from \'Childe Harold\'s Pilgrimage\', but a few things have happened in the past twenty-four hours that have given me a wake up call." He had their attention, every child in the room stilled in the act of watching, listening, not wishing to miss a single clue that Mello might give away. They could learn something here. It might be able to be used against him. Mello raised his head and smiled. He knew precisely what they were up to. "It made me think about what this day means to me. I have meditated on its origins. My beliefs." He met and held each eye in turn. "I believe that the essense of this day is something that is vitally important to each and every one of us too." He winked at no-one in particular. It felt like he winked at them all. Like he was their friend. Like he understood. Everyone was immediately on red alert, but Mello just looked up into the light. "Hope. Today is about hope."



"Here\'s me thinking it was about presents and cake." Jonny sniggered, brave in the midst of a gang of people.



Mello sought him out and stared at him. Jonny paled slightly. Mello smiled, his eyes lighting up with it. "Everyone here hopes that they will be the successor to the L code. And other things. Hope is our bread and butter. I could have done \'Childe Harold\'s Pilgrimage\'." He paused. His gaze sought out Near, stacking dice near a wall. Near did not overtly look back. "I could have done that. Instead, I wanted to pass on hope. It\'s in specifics." He nodded towards Matt, who stiffened in response, but Mello didn\'t elaborate. He didn\'t draw any more attention to Matt than that. "But it\'s more general than that. I wanted to show you what hope sounds like to me, on this special day, and maybe, as you listen to it, you\'ll think about what hope sounds like to you." He primed the violin under his chin. "And maybe the herons will soar in your imagination."



On the battered blue armchair, Mairoo\'s head shot up. He blinked twice, but that was all the emotion he showed. He stared warily at Mello. Matt noted it, because Mello had asked him to watch them all. Mello tapped his foot once and Matt began to play. He didn\'t need the music. Mello had shown it to him in their room and it was simple enough. Any child in the institution could have played it. Matt was inordinarily grateful that it was himself. He began alone, the simple notes that would soon be eclipsed by Mello\'s electric violin. Matt was playing Bach\'s \'Prelude No.1 in C Major\' from the \'Well-Tempered Clavier\'. Mello\'s achingly precise notes came from Gounod\'s arrangement of \'Ave Maria\'. They played it in standard tempo for several bars, until Mello\'s eyes suddenly opened and Matt, watching for it, sped up. Mello matched him, the melody instantly becoming harder, classical rock. Mello\'s grin dissolved as his eyes closed again and he played like the devil himself.



Mello raced to a finish, but Matt held the melody just a little while more. Then it was all over. Mello opened his eyes and blinked, as if surprised to find them all still there. "God bless and merry Christmas everyone." He smiled and left the stage.