Tiny feet winged the Waffle woman to her destination. As soon as one western boot touched a parquet floor, the salon's crystal chandelier became ablaze with light. "Heavens and Andromeda!" Maddie whispered, the strength of her vocal cords vanishing. She witnessed the form of a lavishly costumed noblewoman appearing at the center of the room. "Are you who I think you are, Madame?" "Queen Maria Antonia...you may curtsy." The Belgian dipped, her senses invaded by an eerie jolt of déja vu. "Madame, I am truly overwhelmed to meet here at Versailles where I have come to consult with your singing cedar. You know the tree?" The ghost of Marie Antoinette turned and glided effortlessly in the direction of the Queen's Chamber, halting at the doorway, refusing to enter. "I may not leave for I am connected to this room by the Light. But go to yonder window and gaze out upon the vista of Versailles. Then you may rest on my bed and dream of saving proud France from those who would see her ruined. Later, you may consult with my singing tree of Lebanon." As if in a trance, the young woman walked forward into the magnificent bedchamber of royalty. The ornate bed of a sentimental queen beckoned, and soon the little Waffle fell fast asleep, dreaming of hot chocolate pots and honey bees. An unrefined rendition of a work by Beethoven was gaining in volume, causing Ms. Maddie to awake. She rolled over and glimpsed a surreal image of the German composer seated at a rare Cristofori piano, tapping away as would a child on the keyboard of a toy computer...except Ludwig had become darker with age! "Yes, fraulein, I have been with you for some time now and have to ask you a question," the comedic fellow stated. "Richard Pryor? With me for some time now? What is going on here?" the sometime Cybersybil exclaimed as her pulse quickened. "Wait a minute...explain yourself, sir!" "I am the Voice that has guided you for years...didn't you know it was me, Richard Pryor?" "Where is the Queen? This must be a twisted prank! I know...you're the Jackal! They say Juan Carlos is a master of disguise, not to mention a knave...you little liar...how dare you scare me like that? Are you packing heat?" "Would you like a Whopper?" the stranger offered. "No! Do you deny your true identity?" the Waffle muttered, in an angry tone, annoyed with the obvious ruse. "No...and...yes," the Jackal mused. "Now, would you like to see my Little Richard imitation? It's quite good, and..." "Please! Miss Olivia was correct...you are a jackass...I need to leave now. I came here to find a singing cedar. Just tell me, how is it that you came to be here at Versailles, in the company of a great queen?" "I know you seek the tree...Missy Marie asked me to show it to you." "She what?" Madeline replied, still in a state of disbelief that the Jackal was indeed a jack-eloper. "Would you like some Coke?" Juan Carlos asked, refusing to abandon his disguise. "No thanks, I don't use drugs. It's a sure way to an early grave. Why am I talking to you?" "I meant a cold drink, not nose candy," the Jackal chortled. "Sure, that's OK," Maddie said, thinking it might serve her to go along with the silly prank. And as soon as Juan Carlos disappeared to fetch a glass, the librarian decided to run; before she could escape, however, the Jackal returned with a Coke and a smile. The observant Belgian noticed his gold tooth immediately, recognizing the gaudy trademark grin from photos in Match. "On second thought, I think I'll pass on the soda, thanks, since my friends are waiting for me at the spa. I suppose you could shoot me, but if you let me go, I'd appreciate it," the anxious woman assured. "I can dig it, mama. I can't impose on your free will." "Of course," the Waffle replied, stepping backwards. "Thank you, Mr. Jackal...thank you for everything," and with that, Maddie set off for the stairs. "Wanna go out some time?", the persistent man shouted. "I am the son of Eros, you know! You should revel in my sexiness!" Ms. Madeline turned and replied with hesitation, "Perhaps you are even the ghost of Beethoven. Auf Wiedersehen, and as the great composer said on his death bed: Applaud, my friends, for the comedy is now finished!" The petite blonde forced a false grin, clapped her hands and then raced away, glad to have escaped the Jackal's evil company.    Text Copyright 1999 - ad infinitum cybersybils.com All rights reserved