A Trek of A Storyteller

Ch.7: O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore Art Thou, Romeo?

He walked in no hurry, admiring everything around him as the world slowly woke up from winter and began to turn green again. He paused at the steps of the stage, taking a deep breath and calling for Bast to come along while she sniffed a flattened, muddy can.

He walked carefully and deliberately up the steps and, for the sake of it, took out Romeo and Juliet. He was unable to resist the calling of a famous scene upon such a stage. He was unsure that he would have another chance, given the state of his food. But he didn't think about that as he thumbed through the well-worn pages to find the most famous scene of all.

Placing Bast upon one of the various stacked benches to sit and watch with judging eyes, Skylos kneeled down so as to make her seem like she was held far aloft and deepened his voice best he could.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it. Cast it off. It is my lady. O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand! That I might touch that cheek!" he read, acting the part as required, biting his lip to hold back a smile.

Bast looked at the boy with a skeptical look, saying 'How foolish,' with a playful smile on her whiskers. Skylos looked at her and glanced at the book and frowned.

"Bast, now you say 'Ay, me,'" he told the cat. She squinted her eyes and purred. "Well enough," he chuckled, continuing his own speech. "O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious as this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of air," Skylos read and looked to Bast expectantly.

She let out a soft meow and laid down, tucking her small paws underneath the thick winter fur on her chest. She looked up again, suddenly realizing the boy was still staring at her and a greeting, if confused, purr arose from her throat.

"Bast, you are supposed to say, 'O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet,'" he instructed. Bast let out another small meow and licked her paw distractedly. "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Skylos replied, not even glancing at the book he held in his hands. Bast did not look up and Skylos sighed with a smile.

He had known that she would not read the lines aloud, surely, he had just hoped that by some miracle there would indeed be a Juliet to his Romeo, if only to relieve his loneliness for a moment. Clearing his throat and raising his voice an octave, standing and moving to face the place where he had just knelt, Skylos continued.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor food, nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name belonging to a man. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself," he switched back to kneeling swiftly, regaining a faux deepened voice, once again talking to his imaginary Juliet. "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo," he was ready to switch places again when Bast let out a low growl and leapt down from her perch to stand behind the boy's legs before disappearing.