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qdesjardinSCENE 2 – The Warmth Inside / Hot Chocolate
Inside the darkened, glittering passageway between cars, Utena feels a bit of trepidation. It feels like the floor her feet stand on could dissolve beneath her into a mass of shifting quicksand. She's leaning by the walls for support – they are decorated with a holly that seemingly undulates with an uncertain jazzy glow. From the two doors aside, she could hear a faint chatter of young voices, joyful and lively – the rays of warm light through their holes beckoning.
She unlatches the right door, and what she finds makes her stand still. For a moment, her heart stops beating, but an instant later she sees what it is. These children, in their pajamas and nightgowns, romping around the aisle seats - some of them in a game of hide-and-seek tag, some who're huddled in a group of crafts and activities, who're reading from The Nutcracker storybook, or who otherwise sit idly in the seats waiting for the Boreal Express to take off.
Unexpectedly, Utena's heart is filled with a feeling of tenderness, and perhaps even of security. It is as if she has rediscovered that innocent joy tucked long ago into the cobwebs. She can't help but let a smile show-
Ooof, except being hit in the eye by a dinky paper airplane. Utena rubs her eyes; "Sorry!" chirps one of the girls from the crafts' n stuff – there's been an error in takeoff, Paper Industries Ltd. apologies for the inconvenience. Utena gives them a nonchalant nod, before walking down the bustling aisle for a seat to take, maybe where Anthy is if she's around here. Funnily enough, Utena seems to be one of the oldest on the train, besides Anthy and Nanami – the rest of the kids look aged from tots to tweens.
"Hahahahaha, you have pink hair!" A boy's nasal voice interrupts her. Utena looks about until she comes across a pair of coke-eyed glasses, almost too close to her face for comfort. Behind those glasses, this know-it-all's brown quizzical eyes eyeball her, top to bottom. He moves back, and she can see him more entirely. "Hi, I'm Steve Nottelling, but people call me Stevie." He grins. "What's your name?"
"Utena Tenjou," she tells him.
"Wow, is that like Japanese or something? Cool! Hey, did you know that this train we're riding on is a Pere Marquette 1225, a type 2-8-4 locomotive built by Lima Locomotive works in 1941? I know because I've read it from National Geographic, hey, where're you going?"
Utena has found Anthy sitting by one of the front seats, where it isn't as hectic – the calmer place lets Anthy tickle petite Chu-Chu on her shoulder with peace.
"Goojiegooo! Going to the North Pole is so nice!" Anthy goes. Her bunny slippers wiggle with agreement. "Utena, I'll ask Santa for more spices, and some Darjeeling tea. They're very hard to get nowadays. What are you going to ask him?"
Utena stares pensively down; what shall she tell Anthy?
Stevie pops his head in-between them, and blurts out, "I wanna get my Solid Snake Spy Kit 2000! Solid camouflage wear, secret radio, cardboard box, it let you sneak around like Solid Snake!" He nods at Anthy. "Hi, I'm Steve Nottelling, but you can call me Stevie. You're her friend, aren't you?"
"Mhm. You can call me Anthy."
"Cool! *hic*" Stevie leans in-between them more. "Boy you sure smell nice! Do girls always smell like fruit?"
"Not without some effort," Anthy says. The lotus shampoo still freshly permeates through her hair. It has a nice tang to it.
Then noisy feedback echoes from the train's P.A. "Attention everyone!" the Conductor goes. "Please hold onto your seats; we'll be revving up and chugging forward in a moment. For those of you feeling parched.. there shall be some hot hot beverages coming your way shortly. Ta-ta!" Click.
"I dunno.." Utena goes, "what I want to ask Santa Claus." She stares out the window, seeing Ohtori Academy as a few turned-on lights within that faintest silhouette amongst the night darkness. Darkness.. like if your eyes were shut behind the eyelids, waiting for whatever is out there. Mostly it is only ordinary when you blink, those many infinitesimal moments in a day. Or you open your eyes to your room after a good nap.
Utena remembers opening her eyes, when she was young.. where to her great amazement there were those pearl skates in front of her. Its alabaster colouring, and the blades which would glide along the ice. The skates resting upon the puffy pillow - awaiting her little feet, the little troubles she would have keeping steady in the movements, and all the moments with her Papa and Mama, holding her hand as they gave their love in teaching her how to be just as graceful as the champion figure-skaters on TV.
She couldn't shew just how much she was happy, but it was more than enough to see her smile then, as her hands reached for one of the skates – tenderly trying to hold it, like it was a delicate thing that might shatter if handled a tad too rough.
And she almost teared up when she told Mama and Papa.. how her little heart loved them so very much, then, now and ever. That perfect, everlasting, ephemeral moment in her life, and it would never come again.
The Boreal Express toots its low whistle into the open air, and then it suddenly jolts into a slow movement – its brakes have released their grip, and the train engine begins to haul the trailing cars, bearing all the responsibility of carrying the children and valuables to the North Pole. Wave goodbye to Ohtori Academy. See the campus fade behind with the traversed rails. This train is headed northward.
Nanami, inside the same car as Utena and Anthy, feels a playful mood coming about her as she looks for opportunities to get the most out of her night. Her eyes dart to and fro between the kids, as she twiddles her fingers in her hair. You really wonder what she's up to. She overhears someone reading aloud from the Nutcracker storybook, so she prances over to a row of seats, where a dapper girl has taken it upon herself to entertain the petite misses and gentlemen, looking to be read to.
"'It looked like summer for the bewildered Clare,'" the dapper girl goes, "'as she was greeted by the citizens of the Candy-Cane Land, smiling and waving at her approach. She was to be their rescuer, for they were oppressed by the tyranny of the Rat King, who overthrew the good King and used Candy-Cane Land's powers for his selfish purposes. Clare had to set onward to the kingdom's castle.. that was where the Rat King kept our beloved Nutcracker caged.'"
Nanami notices how the girl enthrals her audience. Why don't we have some fun here – this ol' bedtime story's good, but everyone must surely have heard it a thousand times over, so good Miss Nanami Kiryuu is here to spice up your day with a few surprizes. Mwaha.
"I think you must be a little tired," Nanami tells the dapper girl. "You've read this far into the story, your mouth must be aching from all that effort!"
The girl pauses – she could be right. "But I'm only halfway- I wanna read to the ending."
"You can use a break anyways – so scoot!" Nanami swipes the book from the girl, and now she's the centre of attention. (A little mean of her to do so, but erm.) "Let's see.." She skims through the rest of the pages for a refresher; it's been a while since.
One of her favourite moments of Christmas is when she has Touga snuggling up with her in bed, and he'd read for her from the storybook, while she's cuddled against his warm chest. His gravure voice is soothing, and she'd automagically go to sleep just before he's done. Nowadays she hardly gets this chance anymore – her big brother is often too busy handling Student Council matters over the phone.
Sometimes Touga would improvise whenever he thinks Nanami isn't actually seeing the pages. It was extra delightful when she got to hear how Jack dragonfisted the mean, spiteful Giant, and then moved in the cloud castle with his mother where he held martial arts training with the faeries and elves. Or that the Three Little Pigs asked a Shelley Duvall to halt the story because they had no clue what they were to do if they cooked the Big Bad Wolf – eating their enemies didn't settle well with their tummies, it gave them indigestion the last three times.
So what should Nanami do now? It's such a boring, obvious ending if Clare and Everyone lives happily ever after - no ifs, ands, buts, or moral quandaries. Hmmph.
One of the kids is poking her annoyingly on the leg - "What's the holdup?"
"Ermm, someone scribbled over the rest of the pages," Nanami answers with a mock frown, "but luckily, I happen to remember what's going to happen!"
Everyone shuffles in closer.
"Clare approaches the castle," Nanami goes, "finding several lackeys along her way who she bribes with promises of the kingdom's wealth, should they help her overthrow the evil mice and win her beloved's heart. What shall we call them.. Keiko, Aiko and Yuko! Nice villagers who'd been doing nothing but licking a sugar pole when she found them.
"So Clare and her band of rebels, driven by intense desire, cross the field of opium poppies, and sail through the misty waters where they defeated Jormungand! He's the sea serpent who asked our gang three trick questions in order to pass, but luckily Clare's smart, she stayed in school – when she was asked the speed of an unladen swallow, she tricked Jormungand into pushing their raft faster to the castle."
An inquisitive, brown-haired kid asks, "What does the Nordic Jormungand have to do with Candy-Cane Land or anything pertaining to the story? And is the swallow European or African?"
"Oi shut up!" Kids these days. "Now then. They finally arrive at the Castle-"
Suddenly, a Public Service Announcement! The bustling children hear the preceding feedback and they gradually stop what they're doing. "Attention- attention!" the Conductor chimes, with a pause to make sure he's heard. "If you will kindly make a sittings on the seats, we present to you for your night's pleasure.. Hot Chocolate!"
Nanami glances at her audience's eyes. "We'll be back after coffee break."
All the children settle in their seats – which they suddenly shift and slide into a diner cafe arrangement ("Oooh!"), and the tables pop out from underneath. Bursting through the door, the sharply dressed serveurs hop and somersault down the aisle, placing napkins over the table surfaces, sifting cups atop of them, and passing out pre-packaged mint cookies – especially made with nougat centres as white as snow.
[Serveur Lyrics, dance routine sold separately.]
You've made it through the wilderness somehow.
You've made it through!
You didn't know how lost you were
Until we found you
You were beat, incomplete
You've been had, you were sad and blue
But we can make you feel
Yes we can ma-aa-ake you feel-
Shiny and new..
Oh, like a Virgin!
Touched for the very first time!
Like a vir-ir-hir-hir-gin!
When we give you
Our cafe delisse.
In comes the Mighty Jug – the giant stainless steel container on a trolley, filled to the brim with frothing cocoa as thick and rich as Lindt(R) chocolate – and with one of the serveurs opening its tap, the cocoa spills out, and instead of staining the floor the river directs itself into many cup-sized streams, filling each and every empty cup. Now satisfied, the serveurs trod off to a different car. And that is that.
Utena doesn't see her reflection on the cocoa's froth. She's holding her cup handle, staring away at it. Around her is inconsequential babble – inner doubt, almost a kind of disbelief gnaws away at her heart. What is this coffee, sprung from who-knows-where in some chain of giving, ending at last from that jolly red man who shewed her apathy when she had needed his miracle the most. Or not that, maybe his lack of miracle is a gesture of mocking her.. maybe his miracles are only material gifts - in candies, toys and coal. Not life. That's why girls don't get their ponies. They get Barbies.
Chu-Chu imagines Utena's holding her cup still, so that it could be a hot frothing sauna pool for him to dive into. Kersploosh! The droplets of steaming cocoa wake Utena from her spell.
"You should drink that," Anthy suggests. Chu-Chu surfaces, bearing a Chaplin milk moustache. Utena begins to smile, and she picks Chu-Chu up by his big mousy ears to where he better belongs, and then she takes a sip. That warm cocoa delighting her inside.
