Page 130 - Nuts to You - The Nutcracker Retold

how much I cover my ears or put cotton inside, I can still hear?
And this time – even though this was the most-scary of all times, and even though she had asked, and even though she really did NOT WANT TO HEAR what was being said – she heard Godfather’s voice loud and clear, even though he whispered the answer to her alone.
“This is Franz.”
And for Clara, the room spun, and she stared at the Nutcracker in disbelief – this ugly wooden toy wasn’t her friend. It couldn’t be the boy she had played with and dreamed of, for the entire year. This could not be Franz, when she had only discovered that very night, he meant more to her than anyone in her world?
Clara refused to believe what she’d heard.
In fact, she decided that the old man had finally grown senile. No, not senile. His strangeness had gone full-blown, and now this man whom she had known all her life was officially, no doubt about it, crazy. And she almost fell for it.
And she almost laughed in relief. Until, she looked back into the watery eyes of the old man.
Doubt covered her like a blanket on a hot day – she felt stifled, smothered and steaming hot. Clara couldn’t drag her eyes from Drosselmeir’s, until he said, “Help him,” and then she shifted her gaze, to look into the wooden eyes of the Nutcracker.
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