Composers-Turned-Babysitters

1: An Empty Estate

A few hours later...

Chopin and Liszt were almost at their destination. The fog started rolling in and the lush flowers that grew in Paris became sparse. It seemed sort of like those scary stories people tell near campfires, the light of a flashlight gleaming on their faces. It started raining and Chopin could hear the drip-drop of the raindrops splashing on the carriage window. He sighed then slumped down into the seat. Meanwhile, Liszt was sound asleep, possibly dreaming about Paganini or something. 

Liszt felt a little nudge. It was Chopin. "We're here," he said. Liszt sat up and saw the entrance to the estate. There was a lawn in front of the big house they were going to stay in. There were also little sets of tables with two chairs beside them. They stood there, waiting to be greeted. No one came out the door. No one walked through the gate. No one greeted them. They stood there in silence, not knowing what they should do. 

The gate was open, so Liszt decided that it was best to just enter the building. They walked into the house, only to see that it was empty. The house was dark, only lit up by a few candles. "Isn't the Countess supposed to greet us?" Chopin said in an unsure whisper. "Yes. Maybe she's busy?" Liszt exclaimed. "George told us that our room would be in the right corridor." Chopin said as he motioned Liszt toward the stairs on their right. "Well, I guess we go there." Liszt said, unsure of what they were supposed to do. 

They walked up the stairs that were fortunately lit up so they could see.  When they got up the stairs, they could smell the old carpet beneath them and the aged books on a random shelf. There was a small archway leading to their room. Their room had a piano and an armchair, along with a bed, three shelves full of books, a table, and a mirror with a ledge under it. 

Chopin's stomach became queasy. He made a disgusted face and looked at Liszt. "What's wrong?" Liszt asked. "You know... we have to share the bed." Chopin whispered into Liszt's ear. Liszt's face churned at the sight and looked away. "Ehm... let's not think about that. We need to go look for the Countess." 

They searched every room in the right corridor. They searched every room in the left corridor. But every room was empty - or it seems. When they walked into the hallway under and through the stairs, they saw a whole mess of rooms waiting to be checked on. "Aw man, this is going to take forever." Liszt complained, but in more of a fancy way because this is the 19th Century. 

Then all of a sudden, Chopin and Liszt heard crying. Not quiet crying, but loud screeching crying like a baby's cry. They slowly walked closer to the room where the sound was coming from. Slowly, but surely they tipped-toed to the room and saw that a child was on the ground, crying and flailing her arms in the air.  Chopin whispered to Liszt: "That can't be the Countess." "It is the Countess." whispered Liszt back to Chopin.  They both had worried faces as they stared at the screaming Countess. "This is going to be a long trip..." they both thought.