I Love You Mommy
Disclaimer: Nothing that is not my own will I take, POTO I did not make... (This is not a rap.)
Author's notice: This is not really a "Kay" fic (I don't even really like that book). Pretty much the only Kay I will be using is Erik's mother's name and maybe a few randomized comments. The rest is Leroux based or just imagined by myself. Once this is understood, I believe that the only other confusion will be the plot line. Thank you and have a wonderful day.
Madeline slid the flowers into a vase. Then she gently made the little bed she had prepared beneath the open window. She lay another package on the pile that she had made at the end of the cot. None of the presents were opened, nor would be by the looks of things. She brushed a few tears from her eyes.
Today would have been Erik's thirteenth birthday. She thought.
Every year she bought birthday and Christmas gifts for him. Every day she laid a plate of food by the open window and smoothed the little bed. Always, she left the window open for him, even in the coldest of winters. But he never came. He would never come.
How many times had she searched for him? Too many to count by this time. The police refused to help her any more. She had to face the inevitable truth; Erik must be dead. Why else could she not find him?
She cursed herself. It was her fault that her son was gone. She had been cruel to him. She had hated and feared him and mistreated him. She blamed him for her loss in society, the friends who had left her, and the husband who had abandoned her. She thought of him as a monster, a freakish devil -until the last night, the last night that she had a son.
That night she had made her conversion, in a sense. She had repented of her previous actions against her child and wished right her wrongs. In one exhilarating moment she had rushed from the house and purchased several gifts that she was sure her preternaturally talented son would enjoy. All that night she had waited in a tense excitement for Erik to awake. She had been tempted to waken him several times, but she decided to allow him to sleep. It was the act of motherly charity that was her downfall. As she lightly dozed, Erik had left. A small, scrawled note, apologizing for some imagined sin, was all that he left behind him. She had not seen him since.
Every day she relived that night. In her dreams she had awakened Erik. On her knees she begged his forgiveness and promised that she would never again do him harm. He would embrace her and the two would cry away the past misdeeds. If only life were so kind.
Madeline stroked the shabby pillow on the cot, longing to feel the touch of her son's raven hair. It was a fitting punishment, she thought, to suffer such loss after what she had done to him. The irony of it all was unbearable. For so long she had wished Erik dead and out of her life forever. Now that he most assuredly was dead, the pain was beyond belief. It was a paradox.
If only she had another child. If only there were someone to whom she could show love. She wanted a second chance. She wanted a chance to prove that she was not heartless, to give love to another, to be the mother she longed to be.
That is it! She thought. That is what I must do! I need another child. Maybe God will forgive me if I can show love to another little one.
She resolved to adopt a child. There were many poor, miserable orphans who would love a home and a family. She would not adopt a son, just in the case that Erik should come back and think himself replaced. Then, what about a daughter? Surely Erik would not be jealous of a sister! The more she thought the more she was decided. Her heart longed for this little girl. She could almost picture what she would look like and the sorts of dresses and dolls she should buy for her. Perhaps this little girl had never even had a doll! Madeline planed and planed what she would do for the child. For the first time since Erik had ran away from home, she felt almost happy.
After a few weeks contemplation, Madeline visited one of the crowded shoddies that served as the homes for the orphaned children. The poor, half starved, beaten wretches all looked at her with pleading in their big, sad eyes. She felt heartbroken that she could not take all of them with her, but she was here for just one.
She looked at all the little girls, trying her best to ignore the boys, they only reminded her of Erik. She glanced though all of the hopeful faces. A little, blond girl sucked her thumb. A skinny girl held a shabby doll against her cheek. She almost decided to adopt a little, plump girl whose red-gold curls caught her eye. That little girl was by far the prettiest of the group. But no, Madeline had made enough mistakes by judging people by looks. She decided that she would simply ask the owner of the orphanage who was the most unlikely girl to be adopted and then adopt her.
She approached the matron, "Madame, which, may I ask, of the girls do you think will be the least likely to be adopted?"
The matron, a fat, vulgar woman who obviously detested children, replied in a husky snort, "Well, that would be our little Sabine. See, that filthy little skin-and-bones over in the corner."
Madeline looked to the place where the matron had indicated. There sat a very skinny, shabby girl of around seven to nine years. Her face was wan and pale, and dark, scarlet and purple rings shrouded her deep-set eyes. Her long, scraggly hair twisted and wreathed in lengthy, snaky coils of chestnut brown. She truly was skin and bones and her face was pale as a dead girl's. Madeline's first instinct was to shake her head and choose the pretty, girl with the red-gold curls. However, she refused to the let prejudices deter her. She forced herself not to see the sorry, corpse-like banshee, but rather a poor, pitiful child.
"Good," she said, "I would like to adopt that one."
The matron looked puzzled but simply shrugged. "Sure'n glad to be rid of her, creepy li'l mite. But, Madame, you will have to sign a paper saying you won't bring her back."
"Bring her back? I'm looking for a daughter, not a pet!" Madeline retorted indignantly.
"Aye, that's what others have said. Pitied the filthy maggot, I suppose. Always brought her back within three weeks, though."
"Why ever?" Madeline asked, dumbfounded.
"Search me," the matron replied, "Can't be because they thought her ugly, could 'ave seen that here. No, they all said something about their health and some nonsense about..." the matron looked worried, "They claim the girl's bad luck. Possessed or something, they say. Says she does things not but a little witch could do. Now, mind you she's never tried naught here and I'm not trying to keep you from taking her. I've got enough greedy mouths to feed here as it is! But..." the matron lowered her voice, "don't say I didn't warn you."
"Thank you, but I've seen too much in the ways of children to be frightened," Madeline stated, thinking bitterly of Erik's mischievous exploits in the world of magic.
"Well, suit yourself," the matron said grimly, "Sign here."
Madeline could not help but notice the lack of technicalities in the paperwork. She did not complain, but could not help but wonder if the orphanage was legitimate.
Finally, she met little Sabine in the hall. The girl carried a small, filthy bag. Her snaky hair was tied away from her wan face. She did not seem happy about leaving the orphanage, and simply bore a look of indifference that people often acquire after much disappointment.
"Don't worry, mon petite," Madeline reassured in a soothing voice, "You're finally coming home for good."
Sabine said nothing.
Madeline helped her new 'daughter' into a cab. She took her first to buy some new clothes and then she let her pick out whatever she wanted in the realms of toys and books. Sabine modestly accepted the favors without much passion.
Poor dear must not believe I really mean to keep her. Madeline thought sadly.
After their shopping excursion, they returned home where the cook, Madeline had managed to hire some aid after Erik's disappearance, had prepared supper. Sabine was washed and dressed in a pretty, white gown. Her long hair was brushed and pulled into two plaits. She looked somewhat better, though still terribly ghostly.
All she needs is some warm sunshine and good food. Madeline assured herself.
The meal was a lovely one. The cook served stuffed partridge, turtle soup, boiled quail eggs, and a creamy chocolate. Sabine ate hesitently, as if she was frightened of trying the fine dishes. Madeline attempted to start a conversation.
"Well, Sabine, what do you like to do?" she asked casually.
"Draw," Sabine replied, "and read."
"Ah, then we'll have to get you some drawing supplies, won't we," Madeline said, smiling, "You know, I have a library filled with nice books that you might like."
"Oh," Sabine answered.
There was an awkward pause, but Madeline was undaunted, "Do you like flowers, Sabine? I have lots of flowers in the garden. Once spring gets further along there will be many more than there are now! We'll have roses this summer, too!"
"The Guillaumes had a garden," Sabine said dully.
"Did they? And who are the Guillaumes?"
"They brought me back," Sabine replied in an emotionless tone.
"Oh," Madeline searched for what to say, "Well, I won't do that, dear, if that is what you are worried about..."
"But I'm not worried," Sabine stated.
"Good," Madeline said, smiling, "You see, I wanted a daughter, and from now on you are my child and I am your mother. Mothers do not return their children!" Madeline's heart ached as she said this, thinking of how she had treated her real son.
"Do you have any other children?" Sabine asked.
"No, I did have a son but..."
"Good," Sabine interrupted, "I don't get along well with other children."
Madeline shifted uncomfortably on her seat. She did not like someone, even one who was supposed to be her daughter, speaking in such a way about Erik. She calmed herself, though, reminding herself that Sabine had had a hard and sorrowful life and probably had never been taught manners.
"How did your son die?" Sabine questioned.
Madeline was not sure that she had told the girl that Erik was dead, but she had felt so muddled that she brushed the doubt aside. "He ran away from home," she said, "and no one could find him. The police say he probably died from... from cold or... starvation or something..." Madeline's voice shook.
"Probably?" Sabine asked.
"Yes dear," Madeline replied.
Sabine said nothing.
"Well, let's finish eating before the food is all cold," Madeline said, changing the subject, "Then we best be off to an early bed after all the shopping we did."
"Yes... mommy," Sabine replied, "You want me to call you mommy?"
"Of course, darling," Madeline assured. She smiled and embraced the little girl warmly. It felt good to be called a mother again and she was happy that the girl wanted to call her that.
Madeline took Sabine to the room she had prepared for her. The room had been decked out with bouquets of early, spring flowers. A little canopy bed sat towards the middle of the room and was covered by rosy pink bedclothes. Lacy curtains hung from the large window that overlooked the garden. A window seat sat below that and on the seat was laid a few lovely pillows. A rosewood wardrobe stood to the antipode of the bed and to its left there was a dainty vanity already well stocked with various pretty jewelry pieces. There was a quaint fireplace and hearth and several lamps for light and heating. Madeline was rather pleased with the outcome of the room.
She and Sabine unpacked the many presents they had purchased. The lovely dolls and stuffed animals were sat on the window seat. The dresses, petticoats, jackets, cloaks, skirts, and gowns were hung in the wardrobe. The hoops, laces, stockings, and undergarments were slipped into special little drawers inside the wardrobe itself. The hats, scarves, gloves, and fans were hung on a rack at the vanity and the boots were sat at the end of the bed in nice, neat rows. A lovely music box, painted with roses and ivy, was sat at the vanity. The books, games and puzzles they had bought were sat on a shelf next to the bed.
"There," Madeline sighed happily, "we're all done. Doesn't this look lovely?"
Sabine nodded and gave her new 'mother' a haunting smile. "I love you, mommy," she said.
Madeline beamed. Not since Erik had ran away had she heard those words. Why Erik had loved her was beyond her comprehension, but she was joyous at hearing the words again. She bade Sabine good night and stirred her coals. Then she slipped from the room so that the girl could change into her new, lacy nightgown. Only when she was already nearly asleep herself did she remember that they had not unpacked Sabine's trunk.