Amie Bernstein; Chapter 16

Amie Bernstein; Chapter 16

© 2022 by Amber Wright

DRIPPY, DRIPPY RAIN!

Date: Winter 1902

Place: London, England

“We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet for auld lang syne...” Edia, Danielle and Amaris slowly sang the old New Year’s melody Auld Lang Syne.

Gad was at the piano and Oncle Aaron was playing his wheezy accordion. The music blended together into one breezy, haunting tune. Amie listened, entranced. She loved music, especially when it included a wheezy accordion and Gad’s angelic piano playing. It was simply...beautiful.

As the evening wore on the snow slowly melted outside, drip by drip. The temperatures rose into just-above-freezing. Outside broke into a wet, slippery black night with only a few stars twinkling down softly in a misty-like glow. A large hazy ring circled the moon as Amie sat on the parlor window-seat, watching the snowy outdoors turn into the drippy outdoors.

Amie’s eyes started to droop…until Gad’s piano turned into a happy beat and Oncle Aaron’s accordion began wheezing faster, merrily. Then she blinked, fully awake. The day was not over just yet.



The December holidays passed and Monday, January 6, 1902 arrived with a vengeance—or, so thought Amie.

“Humph!” Amie stared at her books and paper piled up around her. “Now back to school. Dum-de-doom!”

“And there’s no more snow to play in.” Kitt sat on the bench of the desk with her. “School, bah!”

“Je haine école!” Amie exploded, plopping her arms onto her side of the desk. She slumped her chin against her fists, stormily.

“Well, at least your French is improving.” Monsieur Revere smiled. He picked up a piece of chalk and began sprawling letters onto the blackboard. “Bonjour, enfants! Good morning, children.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Revere.” Amie and Kitt said together.

Kitt grinned at her.

Amie gave him back a knowing grin. Kitt had been teaching her French ever since he had arrived, one word at a time, consistently. Of this, she was extremely grateful. In payment, however, she had nearly worn her legs out showing him around the huge city of London and invading every shop possible. They had eaten every type of chocolate imaginable and explored the spooky, misty graveyards. And—discreetly, mind—they kept investigating Gad and Annie Montgomery.

But now it was back to school and learning, instead of fun and festivity.

“Now, nous commencer.” Monsieur Revere tapped the blackboard with his wooden stick and asked in a commanding tone. “Où est le substantif?”

Amie took a deep breath. Finding the nouns in English grammar was hard enough, let alone in French grammar. She glanced at Kitt who moved his eyes towards the word on the blackboard. Amie answered Monsieur Revere and gave Kitt a thankful glance. Kitt smiled, staring down at his opened English grammar book.

And school began.



“Oncle Gad,” Amie announced at the supper table on Friday. “I’m doing a poem composition for my English. Could you help me? Please?”

“We’ll see.” Gad winked at her, biting into his plumped, buttery dinner roll. “What’s the subject supposed to be, hmm?”

“Atmosphere.” Amie wrinkled her nose. “Not my forte. I like drama!”

“Who says that drama can’t fit into the atmosphere?” Gad wiped his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat. “Alright, I’ll give you a hint. Rain. Drippy rain.”

“Oh, I know now!” Amie said excitedly, bouncing in her chair. She quickly swallowed her mouthful of food. “I’ll call my poem Drippy, Drippy Rain!”

“Right.” Gad gave her a wide grin, eyebrows raised high. “And I’ll put it into song-form, how about it? Oui, Mademoiselle?”

“Oui!”

“Let’s—”

“And make it a nice happy, happy beat! With just the faintest touch of humor yet perfectly sweet.”

“Absolutely! Which key? You must decide. It’s your song.”

“Hmm…oh yes! G for you, Oncle Gad.” Amie reached over and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much! I really, really appreciate it and will toujours! Always.”

He laughed and scooted back his chair to stand, and pulled Amie’s chair back for her. “Mademoiselle,” he motioned for her to get up. “Let’s begin your song.”

“Merci.” Amie glided across the dining room floor with a little twittering wave for everyone. “Yous, who knows? I may be a famous writer someday!”

They laughed and Gad led her to the black, baby grand piano setting in the middle of the large parlor. A palm tree stood nearby and the 12-foot Christmas tree had disappeared now that the holidays were over. Still, the room was decorated in red for the season of celebration was not yet over. Valentine’s Day would be next, and that was only five weeks away. Something fantastic could happen by then, Amie smiled. Something very fantastic.

Gad struck the chord G and Amie rushed onto the bench beside him. “Yes, I’m here and I’m ready. Begin, Monsieur!” She threw out her palms dramatically.



Upstairs, minutes later, Amie bent over her sheet of paper in concentration. The happy tune Gad had played still etched into her mind as did the title: Drippy, Drippy Rain! She clacked her teeth against her pen, and smiled.

And then the words simply popped into her brain before she knew it. Drippy rain. Falling down. So wet. Melting. Drips. Slips. Drippy, drippy rain! Her pen flew from under her fingers and the scratching sound followed closely behind, softly.

With the last word written, Amie rushed into the parlor where Gad was still playing. This time he was playing a steady, smooth tune…and Amie guessed he was making up each chord as his fingers moved along the silky ivory and black keys.

“Oncle Gad, look!” Amie waved her sheet of paper high in the air with a grin.

Gad stopped playing as he reached for the paper. “Here. Let’s have a look, shall we, love-heart?” He winked.

Amie held her breath as she watched him reading it, hoping he wouldn’t think it was too silly. Or that he thought it made no sense whatsoever. But, she reflected sensibly, poems never are supposed to mean anything. At least, that’s what they always say. Gad was laughing when he finished it. He looked up and shook his head. Amie waited, cringing, holding her breath until she felt blue in the face.

“Was it—?” Amie had no heart to finish asking, stupid? Instead, she gulped down a lump in her throat.

“Perfect.”

The air rushed back into her head and a huge grin split her face. She stood there, grinning like a mute with no words she could say. Perfect, not stupid...or even silly.

Gad moved over on the piano bench to allow room for Amie to sit down. “Now, let’s get this song into motion, shall we, hmm? Three, two—”

“One!” Amie grinned and slightly bounced on the bench, elated. Her uncle had just paid her the greatest compliment ever, Perfect. And there's nothing better than perfect. She cleared her throat as Gad played a little, dramatic introduction. And then—

“Drippy rain, drippy rain,

“Falling down, falling down on my nose,

“And the rain, it gets me,

“So wet and drippy,

“Drippy, drippy rain!”

Amie giggled and took a quick, short breath.

“Drippy rain, drippy rain,

“Melting, oh! melting into my toes,

“And the rain, it happens,

“To be laughin',

“Drippy, drippy rain!”

Gad played softly as Amie added the extra-line, “Oh yes, it is so wet!”

“Drippy rain, drippy rain,

“Falling down, falling down on my nose,

“And the rain, it drips, drips,

“Right down and slips, slips,

“Drippy, drippy rain!”

Here Amie giggled again as she gasped for more air. She swallowed.

“Drippy rain, drippy rain,

“Melting, oh! melting into my toes,

“And the rain, it drips, drips,

“As it slips, slips,

“Drippy, drippy rain!”

Gad played more dramatically as Amie sang the second extra-line, “Oh yes, I can’t forget!”

“Drippy rain, drippy rain.” Gad joined in singing and the song boomed into voice. “Falling down, falling down on my nose…”

The last note died away and Amie found herself bending over the piano with Gad, laughing and snorting each time she tried to talk.

Finally, she said loudly, “Fantastically fun! Let’s have a go at it again, shall we?”

“Good thing we haven’t had dessert yet or else we would be burping it all up now,” Gad grinned and began playing the short, dramatic introduction again. “Drippy rain, drippy rain…”



Amie curled up under her warm blanket on the window-seat in her bedroom. Everyone had gone. All, that was, besides her. She had a runny nose and had to stay home. Humph! I can perfectly go around with this drippy nose, but… She kept a growl from escaping her and crossed her arms, tightly. I must stay home.

She glanced down at the book she was reading and a smile broke across her face. She was in the middle of a Sherlock Holmes’ mystery, one of the multiple stories in her new Classic Tales book she had received from her grandparents for Christmas.

Amie returned her restless eyes to the words on the page of her book. A steady rain poured outside in sheets, washing the window nicely and blocking any possible view of the street below her. A gray mist filled the outside air, and Christmas music filled the inside air coming from the record player she had received from her parents for Christmas. Music—I love it! Life without music would be an ocean without water. She found herself smiling despite the tragedy of the story she was reading. Just now there was only minutes to spare before the disaster would strike…

Rap, rap, rap. Amie jumped forward and her heart nearly stopped. The assassin! Then she snorted out a laugh. She was still in her bedroom—safely, mind—and nestled under her thick soft quilt. “Come in!”

Annie Montgomery entered the room with a radiant face. “Hello, love-heart. Have just come to get you ready for supper. Where’s your slippers at, hmm?”

“On me.” Amie wiggled her feet out from under the quilt. Its red silk crinkled.

“Not your bedroom slippers. Where's your evening slippers you just got for Christmas?” Annie chuckled and began rummaging through the room to look for those new red silk evening slippers.

“I just got killed.” Amie stated matter-of-fact as she shuddered twice.

Annie’s eyes jerked up with a gasp; then frowned, looking confused. “Do what?”

“In this book.” Amie explained with a wry smile. “I’m the girl in here. She looks like me—I think—and says the wonderfullest words.”

“I offer you my condolences.” Annie grinned lop-sided, clearing her throat, and held up the newly found red silk evening slippers. “Here, m’love, get yourself into these, thank you.” She placed them onto the floor below Amie.

“Oh…” Amie quickly finished reading the paragraph and moved her feet towards the slippers below. She found her right foot sliding into the left foot slipper. “Oh-h!”

Amie placed the leather bookmark into place and set her book down. She struggled into her slippers, grumbling. “I don’t know why I can’t wear my bedroom slippers. After all, it’s just eating supper.”

“Yes, just eating supper.” Annie smiled, a mysterious twinkle lighting up her face. “But guess who’s here to eat supper with yous?”

Immediately, Amie bounced up from the window-seat, slippers on and skirt nicely straightened, and twirled around the room. “King Edward! Or maybe one of his grandsons?” she added hopefully, pausing with one foot still mid-air. “Or a nephew?”

“Keep dreaming.” Annie chuckled and reached for the brush. “Now, stand still. You don’t want the visitor to laugh at you, do you?”

“No, but who is it?” Amie craned her head around.

Annie pushed Amie’s head back around in place firmly. “Surprise.”

Amie felt herself burst with anxiety as she let Annie do her hair and roll perfume on her wrists. Then she flew out the door, humming the tune of her very own song of Drippy, Drippy Rain!

French/English translation:

Monsieur……………… Mister

Mademoiselle………… Miss

Oncle…………………… Uncle

oui……………………… yes

merci……………………… thank you

Bonjour………………… Hello/Good morning/Good day

toujours…………………… always

enfants…………………… children

Nous commencer………… We start

Je haine école……………… I hate school

Où est le substantif?………… Where is the noun?