It was at least 10:00 at night, and Rachel still hadn’t finished half of her homework. She would have to stay up until at least 2:00. Go to school with zero sleep as usual. That seemed to be the usual pattern of her life, as soon as she became an Animorph.
Tobias suddenly flew in as she was struggling with geometry. He perched on the desk where Rachel was sitting silently. He looked at it for a little, then said, < The answer is 4 *.>
"Thanks," she said wearily, and scribbled the answer down. Then she pushed herself out from the desk. "What’s up?"
< I don’t know. I felt like talking to someone, and Ax was sleeping. Thought-speak snores. I never knew Andalites snored. Their snores are even more annoying than regular snores. I mean, you can’t cover your ears and block them out! >Tobias griped.
"So don’t sleep near his scoop," she laughed.
Tobias’s gazed averted to a little music box on Rachel’s bureau. < Is that the kind with the little ballerina in them? > he asked quickly.
"Yeah." < Could you – could you open it? And wind it up? > he requested.
"OK," Rachel said, as she moved in a zombie-like state to the box, wound it up, and opened it. Music trickled out and the ballerina inside danced.
< I loved those. When I was a kid, I mean, >Tobias said.
"How come?" Rachel asked.
< Well, the ballerina. I mean, she always danced. You would wind her up, she’d dance for you. But she’d always wind down...I stole one from a store once, just to see the ballerina dance for me. She’d twirl quickly, then she’d slow down, and the music would stop, and the dream would be over, and my uncle would yell... >he trailed off.
"Wow," Rachel said.
Tobias didn’t seem like he wanted genius remarks. It seemed like he just wanted someone to listen. < Always, back to reality. The day after, I burnt that ballerina. She was able to do what I could never do – she could always lose herself in a dream, if someone just wound her up. She could die, but she could be revived. I burnt her. But I’ve always loved it’s music. To this day. It warns me, and it – well, this sounds really corny, but it’s like it speaks to me. That’s why I burnt it, too – it told me things about me that I didn’t want to know about. > He laughed, a nostalgic laugh. < I wished I hadn’t burnt it. >
Arubtly, he stopped and seemed uneasy. < Sorry to bore you,> he said. < I can get like that some times. You finish your homework. >
"No, that’s okay. You didn’t bore me. You spoke to me," Rachel said, and smiled. "You told me things about myself I needed to know about."
< Goodnight. Sweet dreams, >Tobias said softly, and flew out.
That night, Rachel dreamed of a ballerina...a dying ballerina, who died submerged in music...
