Caught in the moment

Tired of Josephine's prying and questioning about that dream that haunted her, the one she never should have mentioned, Isabelle stepped outside in search for a little tranquility. Rouen. Always the same.
It didn't matter, she no longer had a place she could call a home without reservation.
Here was fine.

Sometimes she felt like hiding away for a while, just to be alone. It would be all she needed.

She flinched around the corner to the place where she could usually sit down undisturbed, none of those few windows looked directly to that side.

She was not the only one out there looking for a moment of peace. She found him leaning on the fence, staring into the distance. The very same empty road that led him to the house was now stretching far in front of him, across the glade.

It was more than enough already having a stranger around, now he simply took her place to his liking.

I have been here long before you. It was just a defiant thought as she crept behind and sat on the log just a few meters behind him. She would not back away.

He was lost in thoughts, unaware of her presence. It crossed her mind that something must have affected him very much, as he didn't pay much attention to anything that was going on around him. Every now and then he'd look down at his clenched fist.
Even from behind, it seemed that his tense shoulders were burdened with sorrow.
She couldn't tell for how long it lasted but slowly she began relaxing regardless of him being there.

He turned around, with his gaze absently lowered to the ground and when realizing that he has not been alone after all, looked up. His eyes didn't open wide, he didn't look startled, he stayed calm but though he tried to hide his surprise, it was there anyway and she noticed that. It felt like a satisfactory little payoff for the way he startled her the day before, even though unintentionally.
Never behind her back! Well, now you know what it's like.

She said nothing.

He said nothing.

There was something small in his hand which slid down to put the item into his pocket. Now it also felt like she has been invading his moment of peace. Secretly, she all but wished she didn't. If he looked woeful just a few moments earlier, now he seemed simply lost, or perhaps even caught in something unspeakable.

She had to say something, anything. "It is nice out here, isn't it?"

He nodded. From the first day forward she had noticed that the man didn't speak much.

Then he spoke. "Picturesque."

No, he didn't talk much but he chose his words expertly well. She believed that it might just as well be all that would come from him for the time being, perhaps even for the rest of the day, all up until dinner. It wouldn't be that unusual.

Her reflections were almost proven right. And yet, they had to be dismissed as if they came too rashly. He said something, after all.

"You are not from here." It was not a question, only a statement. You don't belong here.

Now he knew, he figured it out. What could she say?
"No, I'm not." She paused for a second. "But I like it here."
That little she gave away and it seemed to satisfy his curiosity, he asked nothing more.

"The two of you seem to be getting along just fine." Josephine just knew the way to poke her.

"We have barely spoken a few words." She kept kneading dough for the bread, indifferent to the woman's attempts to talk about the particular matter.

"Mhm." As though it all came to words. The elder woman knew better. "Yesterday morning, and now again."

Isabelle was grateful for the fact that the man was not present and wouldn't listen to this. "You are the one who let him stay. Who made him stay, in fact. I can't pretend that he is not here."

"Right. Have you been up there yet?" Josephine lifted her brow up high, pointing to the rooftop.

"Where? The attic? Of course not."

"He made himself a... I don't know how to call it. A nest. A small one but comfortably settled at one place... You should take a peek."

She tossed the dough roughly onto the table: "You are insane. What if he caught you prying through his things?"
It didn't feel like a rebuke suddenly, but almost as if she was defending the man's privacy. It was not her intention.
How did she ever come to this? Perhaps she could identify with a person who only sought for a little space where he could be undisturbed, without anyone invading in. Not that he granted them with descending on the solid ground very often, anyway. You are a strange man, stranger.

"How could he possibly? The two of you were outside chatting." The merry tone of her words made it sound like they spent every single day in small talk.

The girl didn't feel like replying to the silly comment. It didn't make sense and it would probably be in vain. She took it out by putting all her energy into kneading, quite vigorously, a tress of her hair fell loose down her cheek and she brushed it aside with the back of her hand.
If only she could allow herself to unfasten a button or two on her dress, it would be easier to stand the heat.
Heat from the sun, heat from the stove, heat rising within her along with dedication to her work...

With a man in the house, she had to compromise even about making herself comfortable. Not that he would descend from up there anytime soon...
With that thought she succumbed to the temptation and unfastened the top button, happy to feel the air graze the skin under her collarbones.
Another one went a little loose as well, all by itself. She didn't bother to fix it with fingers all covered in flour.
But he better not come stealthily behind her back this time!

Every day spent under the roof top, he kept contemplating. How did the fearful Phantom, so manipulative and obsessed with precision and control, manage to make so many mistakes that led to such destruction? And how does one ruin of a roof make a repayment for the great hall of the Opera house?
Does it? Never.
A ruin. Just as his world, collapsed under the weight of his sins.

There were too many lives that he had afflicted. From his point of view it looked like he was condemned to always be reminded of his deeds, with every little thing that would have enough power to bring his thoughts back to that disaster.
Oblivion was not to be expected. Not ever.
He didn't deserve it. A whole new theatre wouldn't compensate for what he'd destroyed. He could never recreate the entire little world it had made. It could not make amends for all the lives he had altered.

In that endless second, when Christine ripped his mask off in front of the overloaded auditorium...

It might as well have been his own head falling down with it.

He was not even angry at that moment. No, all the fury came later as the screams and gasps of shock and execration jerked him out of his numbness.
But for that one infinite moment!
He was just overflown with disappointment, staring at his deceptive little Delilah with a rueful look. She had bared him in front of the world, she might have just as well stripped him naked, it would have hurt less.

He hadn't thought much at that moment, exposed and vulnerable, a living target he knew he'd been from the very beginning, yet willing to come onto that stage and fulfill his plan even if it meant sealing his fate. Ruled by instinct, he grabbed to take her with him and acted along with the first thought that came to his deluded mind.
One rope he did cut but the other one... Damn it!
The chandelier was supposed to fall onto the stage and block the trap door once they were gone. Everything went wrong...

His forehead thumped against the beam, accidentally this time, but no matter how many times he might repeat that particular motion, none of his troubles could be kicked out of his mind. Even if he'd lose the memory of his own identity, there would still be something to remind him of what he'd done.

"Easy with that one. I don't think that piece of wood could be nailed back together so easily."

It was that busybody woman again. And by the «piece of wood» she meant his head.

Josephine looked around, curiously glancing at the spot where he had settled his place to rest. He managed with the little he had. A wall on one side, an old case he has moved to the other. The cloak which he carried rolled up on the bottom of his sack inspite of the summer heat, was at last put to use. He has draped it between the opposite sides to keep himself an illusion of privacy, it was almost like a small room. A sack as a pillow and the plaid given to him served as a cot.

A few personal items which he kept around, marked the hideaway as his.

She had seen all that before but still, his need to stay closed away when alone in the house with two women was a little odd. Immediately, she changed the center of her attention to the roof. "You're progressing fast. And you're good at your work."

"I do my best, madame. It will take another few days."

"Take as much time as you need." She sounded very approvingly, as though she'd downright let him renovate the entire house.

He thought she might leave him at peace but as she moved away, the woman stopped again . "You always travel alone? Never work with companions?"

"Only me. Why?"

"I was just curious. You said you were on the way back to your birthplace. All by yourself. No woman, you have no family of your own?"

"Does it seriously look like I've got one?!"
He was a little too rash with that one. Again, he needed to explain, always explain! Sometimes he felt like the world expected him to explain and apologize for his very existence. He cooled down instantly but the arrogant undertone remained, more like in self reproaching:

"They don't exactly run after me, madame." Can't you tell that they run in the opposite direction?

She shrugged her shoulders. "You're skilled. Crafty handed."
It sounded like a reason enough for her.

Like it could ever compensate for the abomination of his face.

Damn it, he had anticipated people to stay away! They were expected to wince and abhor at the sight of him just like they had when he had been a mere child, just like they had at the night of his «Don Juan Triumphant». A Devil´s child... A Devil himself.

And what did he get? It seemed like they had gotten tired of it, like they've been fed up with abhorrence and simply sought a different sort of entertainment, someone or something less menacing. They had maimed him and then moved on leaving him crushed on the road.

And now... Only now did he get to meet kind people?! Now, after all the harm that had been done?

This was not even close to a punishment.

Then he remembered something else, proficiently skipping to another subject. He was getting better at this.
"It looks like someone else was crafty handed. I found this up here."
He took something from behind a beam and gave it to her.

She looked at the object, not ready to believe it. Then she all but grabbed it and examined it minutely.

A flute.

Something about that woman changed and he didn't dare to ask a single word about it. She only thanked him.

He was left alone.

The bread hadn't turned out this good for quite some time. Isabelle was pleased.

So were the hostess and her guest. The latter one she caught eyeing the slice that remained in the little woven basket. She found it funny how people always seem to be reluctant about the last piece when in company of others. Especially when there was more than enough waiting to be served.

Josephine seemed to be absent in her mind for most of the day but suddenly her full attention came back and she didn't hesitate in speaking out.
"For Heaven's sake, take it, no one will hold it against you." Then she took it herself as Isabelle turned to fetch some more.

"There are people, madame, who would go to extreme measures over a missing crust of bread. Many had payed dearly for having long fingers. With their freedom." Dramatizing, he sounded only half-serious, already used to unavoidable conversation at the table. Darn courtesy.

Slicing the bountiful loaf, the girl offered some more to Erik. "True. Some men's greatest trouble began with a simple loaf of bread."

He took a slice still warm and moist underneath his fingertips, noticing her eyes upon his for a brief instant but she was not aiming her words at him. She seemed rather amused as she went on: "But I just don't see the sense in punishing one driven by despair, so gravely, if no harm was truly meant."

"Not to mention, that he'd quite likely turn into a man far more corrupted than before. Yet, the same misérable he has always been. Predestined to misery." He used that term on purpose, almost certain that she meant the same.

Isabelle thought for a moment before speaking again. "Or maybe, though rarely, a better man? Yet, a man haunted by one thing that marked his past which would cling to him no matter how hard he tried to escape it? Even if it hadn't seemed such a foul decision, but in the eyes of the law it was a crime nevertheless?"

She might just as well be talking about him, for that matter. He dipped a bit of bread into the sauce at the realization that he was right.
"Do you read a lot, mademoiselle?"

She glanced at him, catching that glimpse which he couldn't hold back when he'd suppress a grin. She didn't have to confirm, it was pretty clear.

Josephine stepped in, addressing to him. "Don't tell me that you too are a bookworm."
She was glad to see them talk. She didn't like the feeling of not having a clue what it was really all about, even though she herself could remember some other bad times which they've just described.
"My... If you two were my children, I'd be bragging around how good with your hands both of you are! And here, it turns out how you prefer sticking your noses in books."

Her children. Ha! Crazy woman, don't you know? He had a mother, sure, like any other living creature out there, but she had never been a true mother to him. For most of his life he considered himself to be nobody's. A degenerate spawn just as they had called him.

The girl looked at him compassionately, perhaps because they were in this together.

Taking another slice for herself, Josephine felt the silence as those two suddenly didn't know what to say. "Dear, you have surpassed me this time. What have you put in this?"

Isabelle's secretive smile came back, the one she thought to have had lost and which has been found again only when she had come into Josephine's home. "Well, wouldn't you like to know?"

Later, finishing the work in the kitchen, she heard the murmur of Josephine and the stranger conversating outside. Well, more like she was talking and he just added something every now and then.
He retrieved to the attic soon, as usual, passing through the small house with those long strides.
The mistress of the house came behind her, helping her to tidy up the dishes, calculating something along the way. She could almost sense that the woman was up to something.

"Hmmm... It is a real piece of work to get more than a few words out of him some times."

"I see it must be quite a challenge for you, Josephine." She knew that it must be something entirely new for the woman. This time, her target was sufficiently resistant, that man so stingy with words!

"Mhm. You seem to have found an easier way in making him open his mouth."

"Don't be silly."

"You do. Besides, he just happens to be passing by Rouen, which would be the same direction you are heading."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It might be your chance to get there. Safe. Without me going mad from worry. We could have some use from him."

Isabelle turned away heading out the door, this was too much. "You are insane!"

"Maybe. And what if I told you that you should trust me?" The woman's voice followed her on the way out: "Think about it."

Hearing the sound of the wood cracking, he returned his gaze to the yard. He had seen a lot of things in his life but he just couldn't remember, at the given moment at least, ever having seen a girl chopping wood. Surely he has, but... At least not a gracile creature like this one and certainly not so frantically.
If he had ever doubted whether Judite would have been able to behead Holofernes, there was no doubt left in him any more.
He only wondered whose head it was that she imagined to be on that stump.

Rushing down, he found Josephine in his way.

"I should go and help her."

"No!" She stopped him. "At least that is not the kind of help she needs right now. Leave her be."

She was thinking hard. "I need to talk to you. That is, if you are willing to help as you just said."

He was confused. She practically ordered him to sit down as she began talking and pacing around.
"For the time that I've known her I've been doing my best to keep her from leaving. She is restless. With unresolved matters waiting. She needs to get to her family. And I will not let her go alone, I don't want to carry her on my conscience."

There was no sense in the story and he would never even think of what was to come next: "And then you come along with your story and it just happens that the two of you might share a good part of the tour." She noticed that abashed expression as he wondered which one between the two of them was actually the crazy one.

"Don't look at me that way! I know you hide something just as well. It may be an unthinkable thing coming from me but... If only you would be willing to escort her a long the way, it would make things so much... easier."

Whether to laugh out loud or to cut it off, he didn't know what to do. "There is a perfectly convenient solution. It is called a train ticket."

She realized that perhaps there is not as much patience within her as she had originally believed.
"Sure. Don't play smart. Perhaps you've noticed already, she'd walk away all by herself rather than take the little money I could give her. Besides, there would still be the matter of getting to the nearest train station, and as you've said it yourself, the railroad is being fixed half of the time."

"Madame, do you know what happens to the girls left alone with suspicious men?"

Still standing, she leaned on the table with an attitude that screamed that this is her territory. "I know it very well. Don't you even dare to go there. It is exactly what I am trying to prevent."

"Then why won't you accompany her personally?"

"Because I can't leave this place!" All but shouting out, it was all she had to say about it. Never mind that matter of her own. "And it would not be nearly the same. Someone like yourself should be a challenge."
Looking out through the window, she murmured: "She's a clever one, don't doubt it. She can make it on her own... It's just that she shouldn't. Not this time. If she goes away all by herself, it will be like she has made no move. No move at all, really."

Observing him for days now, she had a hunch. But she had to be sure. "You wouldn't hurt her, would you?"

That confused look of his was mixing with frustration. She made it more clear. "You know what I mean."

He pushed the words out slowly and deadly serious: "I couldn't, madame."

You couldn't... She shrugged her shoulders stopping for a moment. "I am willing to repay you, you know... Just take her home, nothing more. Think about it."

Children, both him and the girl. So much mistrust in them. It shouldn't be so, she decided.