iNo fortune to those who trust appearances…/i
For the first time in over a century, light filled the manor, beautiful sunlight that broke through the storm clouds. The lightning and thunder stopped. Around the Victorian mansion, the earth began to heal. Thunder Mesa, ripped asunder by that fatal earthquake so long ago, shifted and pressed together with a roar. Down below in the catacombs, the skeletons continued dancing as they had for decades. Up above, so did the long-dead citizens of the ghost town. Cowboys shook hands with bandits, saloon girls can-caned, and the mayor threw his hat—and head—up into the air with a whoop.
Melanie Ravenswood had seen all of this from the attic balcony. She wasted little time taking in the celebrating, though. Running back into the attic, and then downstairs, she descended further into her home. With the long hallways no longer dark, she felt less depressed and frightened. Rattling from doorknobs, moans, and pounding fists had been replaced with noise makers, laughter, and chatter. In the grand ballroom, happiness was different from in the past. There was actual recognition in the ghosts' eyes now, a new knowledge that they knew where they were and when it was. The dancing was no longer robotic or mirthless, but energetic. Smiles took over frowns. Someone threw out the moldy wedding cake.
Passing Madame Leota's room, Melanie stopped. Perhaps she should go in and ask what exactly had happened, but then continued running. Explanations could wait.
Arms and legs pumping, her white skirts flapping around her, she kept running. Gliding just wasn't enough. She had to feel that effort to move again. Because for the first time in decades, she could finally feel again. Tears blurred her vision and people kept trying to ask her what was going on, but she ignored them.
Racing into the foyer, she kept going, her frantic form caught in the great oval mirror in the corner. A maid was pulling aside the red, velvet curtains to let in the sunshine. Approaching an oak wall, Melanie didn't yield but went right through. Emerging into the octagonal secret chamber, she finally came to a halt. Panting (purely from emotion), she looked up and around, searching past the flecked and peeling wall paper and the four long portraits of her.
Finally, her eyes rested on a swinging figure hovering high above by the rafters. It was a corpse, skin rotted away and clothes tattered. Just that body and nothing else.
"No."
Melanie dropped to her knees, put her face in her palms, and sobbed. "It's not fair!" In her rage, she pounded on the floor with her pale fists. "Why not him, too? James! My James!" She hung her head and let her tears hit the threadbare carpet, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
"Wowie."
Her eyes shot open and she froze.
"Missy, you seem awful sad about something. You know, old Jimmy will do whatever he can to help a lady in distress."
"James?" She wiped her nose on her lace sleeve and looked up to see him. His stubbly, five o' clock shadowed face, lopsided grin, and shining hazel eyes beamed down at her. He held his hat in his hands, but dropped it to pick her up and pull her into a tight hug.
"Jimmy! Jimmy, my Jimmy!" Quick as she could, she kissed all over his cheeks and lips. "God, I thought I'd never see you again!"
He gently rocked from side to side, just enjoying their embrace and touching her again. "Oh, I never gave up hope, Mellie," he whispered into her ear. "Not as long as I loved you. And baby, I never stopped loving you!"
Giddy with joy, he lifted her up into the sunshine that filtered in through the roof's cracks and spun around. Laughing and kissing, they ran hand in hand out of the gallery and onto the front porch of Ravenswood Manor.
James put an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "I was trapped so long I forgot what the sky looks like."
"Isn't it beautiful?" Melanie laid her head on his shoulder.
"Not as beautiful as you!" He kissed her.
"You're a cornball, James Griffin." She kissed him again. "And I love you."
He grinned. "I love you, too, Mellie!"
Inside the gallery, the Phantom had watched from his perch in the rafters, hidden in the little shadow left. In a voice creaking with age and exhaustion, he murmured, "And now everything falls apart again."
Melanie and James stayed on the porch for a long time, watching the townspeople celebrate and start rebuilding themselves. The streets below were filled with transparent figures, all milling around, trying to find others they knew. The couple watched with interest as a few heads turned their way and smiles lit up faces as the owners saw the two standing together on the porch.
Melanie sighed contentedly, nuzzling James' shoulder, where she was still laying her head.
"Can you believe it?" she asked, looking up into her fiancé's hazel eyes.
James smiled and tightened his grip on her waist. "No, Mellie, I really can't. But, here we are." He gazed at the sky for a moment, looking thoughtful. "How did this happen?" he asked. "I mean, just a few hours ago we were…" he trailed off.
"Hmm…" Melanie thought for a moment and suddenly smiled. "I know who could tell us." She grabbed James' hand and started running into the manor. He laughed a little as she led him into the foyer.
"Where are you taking me?" he said, grinning at her.
"Leota, of course!" Melanie said, pulling on her fiancé's arm. "She's bound to know what happened!"
James' face suddenly fell and a flash of fear crossed his eyes. He stopped with Melanie still trying to pull him in the direction of the séance parlor.
"Wait, Mellie." He said, pulling her towards him.
Melanie looked at him with confusion. "What's wrong, Jimmy? Don't you want to know how this happened?"
"Well…yeah, but…didn't she work for…?" James faltered, looking a little fearful.
Melanie looked at him, understanding his fear. "James, Leota was and still is someone I trust. She'd never try and hurt you or me. Please, trust me on this." She looked at him earnestly and he smiled.
"Okay, Mellie. Let's go." He said, still a little reluctant.
The couple made their way though the halls, which glimmered in the light of the candles on the walls and the sunlight streaming in from the windows. They passed the hall of portraits, which no longer changed to their horrific forms, but remained, in their original states. Coming to the Grand Staircase, which was no longer dusty and gloomy, but bathed in sunlight, Melanie paused to look at the world outside the huge picture window. She paused for only a moment though, before starting down the long maze of hallways that lead to Leota's room. When Melanie had been alive, her father had hired Leota to help find new veins of gold, when his original once had begun to run dry. Leota had warned Melanie about her wedding, but she had been too wrapped up in the wedding plans and the excitement of it all to pay much attention. Melanie couldn't count how many times she had regretted not listening to the physic's words. But, things would be better now, she was sure of it. As she and James began walking, something suddenly darted into the shadows. Melanie glimpsed it out of the corner of her eye and let out a cry, grabbed James' arm. He instinctively whirled, but whatever it was had gone. James put an arm around Melanie's shoulders and bought her close, a protective gleam in his eyes. Melanie quivered fearfully in his grip, but James managed to comfort her. Finally, they approached the door to the séance parlor. Melanie stepped forward and knocked on it.
"Enter." A female voice purred from beyond the door.
Melanie opened the door with little difficulty and entered the room, James following behind her. The back of a large chair was facing them and they came forward cautiously. Melanie finally peered around the chair to see the gypsy Leota, but she wasn't there.
"Madame Leota?" Melanie called out into the darkness. "Leota?"
"On the table." The familiar female voice said dryly.
Melanie and James looked at the table to see the Madame's crystal ball glowing there. It was filled with a cloudy green smoke, like a miniature thundercloud was trapped inside. Suddenly, the smoke cleared to reveal Leota's head bobbing slowly up and down inside the ball. Melanie jumped backwards in surprise, tripping over her skirts and falling backwards. James glided forward and caught her before she hit the ground. She grinned sheepishly up at him as he helped her get to her feet. She walked towards the table again, this time with a confused expression on her face.
"Leota? What happened to you?" she asked, sitting in the chair so that she could talk with the fortune teller.
"When your father forced me to curse this house, I ended up cursing myself as well." Leota explained, bitterly. "This curse is different from the curse placed on yourself and Mr. Griffin, it's irreversible."
Melanie looked at Leota with sympathy. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Leota. You're sure there's no way to reverse it?"
"Yes, Ms. Ravenswood, there's no way. But, enough about me, you two are probably wondering what happened here a few hours ago."James and Melanie drew closer as Leota began to explain…
The Phantom waited in the remaining shadows. Every time the light slunk closer, he inched further back until he was pressed tight against the wall. He could have slipped inside the wood and plaster, hidden among the pipes and termites. It would have been dark and damp in there, perfect for a disgusting creature like him. Instead, he cowered behind a red, velvet curtain, listening in on the conversation.
Soon, though, he ignored the words, instead focusing on James and Melanie. His bony fingers gripped the fabric tightly, almost ripping it. They were holding hands and smiling at one another. It made him want to scream, leap out, and snap the young man's neck all over again.
How dare you! The Phantom shuddered. Taking my precious little girl away from me again. Maggot! Filthy, corpse-munching worm! And you… He tilted his skull ever so slightly in Melanie's direction. Disobeying harlot! I gave you everything. You were my princess. And you spit it all back into my face. Ungrateful. Ungrateful wench!
He shook, his bones rattling like some foreboding maraca. All of you betrayed me. I gave you shelter, love, jobs, my confidence. It wasn't enough for you, was it? No, no, you had to slowly kill me.
The gypsy then turned her green head in his direction. "Monsieur Ravenswood, do come out of hiding." There was no malice in the beckon. "We're all welcomed into the light now."
Melanie and James both followed her gaze to the corner. A bit of black cape could be seen sticking out from behind the curtains and drapes. His shoes peeked out from under the drapes.
James swallowed hard and put an arm around Melanie. "What if we don't want him out here?"
Leota smiled. "What we want is not always what's best."
Melanie set her lips in a firm line and took a step towards the Phantom. "Daddy," her voice quivered ever so slightly, "I'm not afraid of you anymore."
The curtain twitched aside and half a skull leaned out. "Afraid?"
"Yes." She clenched and unclenched her hands. "I was always afraid of you. I was afraid of your yelling, and your temper, and—and of your stupid cane, and your office, and that look you got when you were upset." Voice cracking from the tightening of her throat and tears slipping down her cheeks, she walked up to him. "I was afraid of ever accidentally disobeying. I was afraid of leaving Mother home alone with you when you drank. "
Shrinking back, the Phantom lifted up the curtain to cover his skull. "I—I didn't—"
"But no more!" She waved an arm. "You're even less of a man now than when you were alive. Your heart rotted long ago, nice to see the rest of you matches it." She yanked the velvet away. "Coward!"
"Melanie," James inched forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you shouldn't—"
"No!" She grabbed his hand, but held it. "I'm not putting up with this any longer. He will apologize to you, to me, to everyone right now." She spun back to her father, her ruby lips pressed in a tight frown, a finger waggling at his red silk vest. "Apologize."
"Apologize?" Tiny yellow pinpoints of light flashed briefly in the Phantom's sockets, blazing like the death throes of embers. This was his daughter shouting at him, a girl parading around in a wedding dress. He puffed his chest out, an amazing feat considering he didn't have lungs anymore. He wished for brows so he could furrow them. Instead, he had to make do with pushing down his top hat so that the brim was low. "Apologize?" Without much force, he swatted her hand away. "Young lady, I have absolutely nothing to apologize for!" Standing up at his full height now, he moved out of the shadows. His cape whished behind him, the brilliant red of a pumping heart.
He jabbed a bone finger at her collar. "I fed you, clothed you, spoiled you, got you an education, and treated you like a princess. I kept you safe from the monsters of the world, like your mine cart jockey whelp." He gestured to James. "He would have taken you from safety, from security, from me if I hadn't stopped him!" The lights in the dark pits that once contained gray eyes sparked. "He would have corrupted you. Tarnished you. No…" His permanent grin was more chilling paired with his hoarse rage.
With a growl, James shoved himself in between his fiancée and potential father-in-law. "It's not bad enough that you kill me, good sir, but now you have the gall to insinuate less than admirable characterizations of me and my beloved. Hare dare you besmirch the honor of my true love!" He took off his cowboy hat and smacked the Phantom in the face with it. "I challenge you to a high noon show down!"
He looked at his pocket watch.
"A slightly later than noon but not quite evening show down!"
The Phantom held up his cane, unscrewed the handle, and pulled out a sword. Blade at the young man's throat, he leaned in close. "Don't think for a second death saves you from me, pup. I've had a lot of time on my hands. Going insane became my hobby and thinking of ways to torture you became my career."
Leota and Melanie's voices blended into one cry. "Enough!"
Arms out, Melanie rushed forward and shoved her father. "I never want to see you again! Not ever!" She grabbed James' hand and started backing out of the room with him. "You're the monster I should have been kept away from. I hate you! I hate you!"
After she was gone, Henry stared at the wall and wondered why he felt remorse.