HE'S THERE

Chapter 4 Fabric Hands

Mom said I definitely looked shaken up by the time I got home. I told her I was just very cold. Then she bitched about me not wearing enough layers.

I realized I'd only received his email like an hour ago, but at this point, I was so freaked out that I immediately got online and told him about what had happened. I didn't go into great length, I just told him that the front doors were locked, so I don't think they'd want us meeting in there. Then I told him about the man in all black, who was bleeding. It just didn't seem safe at all to me anymore. Heck, I'd be uncomfortable when we went down there for the play next month. But I also told him that if I might make a suggestion, we could meet in the library. It'd be safer, actually in the school, and there wouldn't be anyone trying to kill themselves nearby. That was about it…I was just hoping he wasn't heading over there himself the next day or something.

After that, it just rained a whole lot. I cranked the little lever around on my Point of no Return music box. My parents bought it for me when I was nine. We saw it in a special shop when we were in LA and I just insisted on having it. I figured since I was thinking about it, I'd just stay in the computer room all night, checking out a forum I hadn't been to in a couple of weeks. We liked to roleplay the story somewhat informally, if that makes any sense. You win a character through contest, or make up your own (I did that) and basically go about the forum pretending to be them. There was also an actual story-thread, where they faked a supposed "sequel" to it, where Erik comes back and tries to steal Christine again. It hasn't gotten far. Just about everyone there, except for a few annoying n00bs, are busy with school work. Strangely enough, most of them are in college. I've been lying about my age, ever since I joined it as a freshman. According to my profile, I should be twenty years old. The only person I ever told from the board about it said I was "very mature for my age", so no one was likely to figure it out.

So as I was saying, I read the recent posts and got myself updated on all that went on and what people's discussions were about, making sure to leave my two cents in each place and carry on with my character, Eva. She was another opera singer who didn't know Christine, but had somehow been contacted by the phantom as well. She appeared at the opera, having just moved to Paris, as a very happy enthused girl, but as the rpg progressed, I decided to make her mood drop for reasons I choose to leave mysterious. I actually still haven't made up those reasons, heheheh.

The girl who played Christine bothered me. When she was out and about on the site she'd be very dominant and opinionated, having some sort of "holier than thou" attitude because she had made the spot. The only place where she even sounded remotely like Christine was in the story, and she even had very eloquent writing…but she was so melodramatic about it, I wanted to gag. Apparently to her, Christine put the back of her hand on her forehead and said "woe is me". She also was really really stupid. I realize Christine's supposed to be naïve, but this was far from pushing it. The two-faced way she presented herself just plainly annoyed me. Maybe that was one of the reasons Eva didn't know her.

…………….

"So what's wrong?"

"What?"

"What's wrong?! You're quiet today and it's not like you. Especially at lunch."

"Do I always have to-"

"By now you should've been complaining about something that happened during first or second."

"Well…nothing happened today."

"…Ok."

Mariam and I were only quiet about this for so much longer until I spoke up. "Um…I think I'm gonna need to recap you."

"Ok shoot." She shoved a pringle into her mouth and continued to scroll a book she'd been reading."

"Can you put the book down?"

"I'm paying attention."

"No, really." Her eyes darted around behind her glasses and she lowered it to her lap. "Ok you know the guy sending me the email?"

"The guy that likes you?"

"Yyyeah. Ok so…we're gonna meet each other."

"Yayyy! When?!"

"Well I don't know yet. But he said he wanted to meet at the theater. You know-"

"Yeah-"

"Ok so last night I went down there to check it out, because I was thinking "ok what would it be like, what's happened since then…do people actually go there after school…like I just wanted to look around, right?'" She stared intently at me. "And I went there, and it was closed. But I just went in this door to the side because I was thinking 'what would really happen if someone caught me' and I walked through the theater and then got to this hall and I thought I heard something, so I ran into this bathroom, and then when I went in there and I thought I was all by myself but when I turned the corner I just saw this guy wearing a huge black cape, sitting on the floor, and then he dropped this bloody scissor, and then I freaked and ran."

"…"

"So…"

"Did you tell anyone about it?"

"No… I thought…I don't know. W-what if he was cutting himself or committing suicide or something?"

"That would be a pretty good reason to tell someone."

"Well, it's just…why would someone be there, doing that, is what I'm asking."

"I don't know." We turned in opposite directions and stared off in space.

"Well I don't know either."

"Hmmm…"

"I told the guy about it. I'm thinking we can just meet somewhere else. Maybe I'll hear from him today and we'll decide."

"Still, that's pretty weird."

"I know!"

"Well…if you can't do anything, you might as well not worry about it."

"What if I imagined it and I'm crazy?" Ok that comment was a little crazy in itself. Mariam chuckled while she was sipping her drink.

"Well I'll keep an eye on you, then. You know I'd throw you in an asylum if it would help, even if you hated me forever."

"Yessss. You're such a good friend." We made retarded faces and leaned into each other's shoulders.

…………….

I'm sorry, but the theater is the only place I will meet you. Don't be afraid. If you become so, this won't work.

This was the message I got back by the time I made it home. I-I-I really am too worn out to even explain to you all of the thoughts pouring through my head as I often did before. At this point, I really was creeped out. I just found everything he said to be more vague than it needed to be, and it felt like he was up to no good. Why would it be so damn paramount to meet there when I told him what I'd seen? Maybe it was just a guy who was pranking me. Jesus…

I deleted all the emails. At this point, I was just…bothered.

Whatever, I had better things to do. Like maybe my homework, which I'd been skipping the past few nights. It wasn't so bad in math because each assignment was two points, but I'd neglected to get my English journal entries done and was supposed to have read up to chapter two in our new book. Bahhh. I did not want to read The Scarlet Letter. I've heard what the upper classmen say about this. They say it's an abomination, and honestly, I don't care about some slut who's ashamed of herself.

Either way, it was the weekend.

The email-sender left me nothing for the following week. I wasn't too talkative myself, now that I suspected this was some kind of joke. I really was excited for a few days…now I just felt bummed. Maybe he knew I'd figured it out and I really wouldn't be hearing from him ever again. Either way, it was a sucky predicament.

I still hadn't figured out that boy's name, the one with the vest, but it just seemed less and less likely that it was him. Heck, I actually started looking at popular guys, but realized even if they wanted to pull a prank, I doubt they could speak the way the note-sender had, or do any part of the prank well.

Meanwhile James continued to be some guy I barely cared about. I don't even know why I'm mentioning him because I know it wasn't him.

Then came the following weekend. I invited Mariam over to see a couple movies and screw around, and when we went to the study to watch stupid ebaumsworld videos, I saw that I had an email…from the note-sender. I guessed it was about seven'o'clock that it arrived. Mariam and I both had our faces against the computer screen when I opened it. He told me it was finally time to see him…at the theater. I could feel myself cringe. "I'm not going."

"Why not?" She asked. But it seemed so obvious it was a trick. This wasn't after school, this wasn't even about school.

"Give him a chance. Maybe he has something romantic planned for you. He likes you, remember?"

"Bullshit."

"I'll go with you. If it's a joke, I'll kick the guy in the nuts. If it's a creep, I'll still kick him in the nuts. Pleeeease."

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I think this is interesting, Lily. You keep saying 'oh my life is so boring'-"

"Yeah, but I'd like to do non-boring things that won't get me either covered in eggs and toilet paper, or kidnapped."

"Ok, but I just told you I would be there. Don't miss out on this, please." I thought about it for a second. Some boy from school that I didn't even know wanted me to meet him, right now. And I was passing it up, no matter what I'd seen the other night, which had nothing to do with him. And if I didn't go, I'd be up all night thinking about it. I'd be letting him down, if he was really sincere.

"…Yeah but, do you really think my parents are going to let us go out there?"

"Tell them we're heading over to the park."

"…..At night?"

"We're seventeen, damnit." I shrugged.

"Ok…I'll ask." I stood up from the computer chair, Mariam following me, and we searched for my parents. I found them reading at the dining table, but both looked up to us when we entered the doorframe. "You guys? Mine if we go to the park?" My mom lowered her glasses, and my dad continued with his book.

"Isn't it kind of late out?"

"Yeah, but it's not completely dark yet. We just wanted to go on the swings and talk, is all…"

"I guess."

"Bring your cellphone," my dad cut in. I rolled my eyes.

When Mariam and I were officially outside, walking up the street in the cold, I felt completely crazy, but some excitement was burning inside of me. I was anxious, for good and bad reasons. I just wanted to get to the bottom of this, to know who the guy was that had been talking to me. At the same time it seemed totally weird…what if he was completely what I wouldn't picture? As shallow as it sounds, that would sort of ruin it for me. I think Mariam must've been glancing at me and thinking the trance-like state was funny… We passed a street light and kept going until the left turn came before the front of the school. Then it was really starting to hit me that I would meet him tonight. I squinted and thought maybe he was standing in front of the theater, but nobody seemed to be there. I had the same increasing heartbeat, but Mariam didn't even seem phased. She kept her hands in the pockets of her big black coat and strode without variation in her speed. It made me nervous not being able to stop and just think again, even if I really had nothing to think about it. Mariam thought that kind of stuff was stupid. As long as I'd known her, she just jumped into things, didn't bother being a chicken like I was all the time. Sometimes it just really added to the discomfort when she trivialized my nervousness. There really wasn't any turning back this time.

We reached the walkway from the street. The areas beyond the start of the forest were all blanketed in darkness… I didn't think he'd be in there… As soon as Mariam reached the doors, the porch-light shined down on her. It made me jolt in surprise. She knocked, then opened it. The doors were unlocked.

I darted my eyes.

I had this undying suspicion that the black figure in the bathroom was somewhere around. I peered into the lobby with Mariam, holding to her shoulders. We couldn't see anything in the room, except the glow of a lamp at a desk. She slowly walked in and I had to follow her. Our shadows grew larger by the outside's light. "Helloooooo. Is the guy who sends Lily notes in here?"

"Mariam!!!" I harshly whispered.

"What? You're going to be talking to him anyway."

"I don't think he's here. Why would he be at this theater, at night, in the dark? Only creeps do stuff like that."

"Maybe he's a creep."

There were two stairways to the sides of the desk, presumably leading to the balconies of the auditorium. Mariam wandered closer to them, but unexpectedly, she surveyed the room again, then came past the desk and flicked on a light-switch, flooding the room so brightly, my eyes stung. I felt a pang in my forehead as I got used to it, then looked around. It was still just a vast lobby with a few folded chairs at the other corner. There was also a piece of paper taped to the front door, the one we hadn't used. Instinctively, I walked towards it and stared, and read the most peculiar text.

"The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade."

…Ok. Mariam came up behind me and scanned the message herself. It was printed, impersonally on the paper with black text, no other writing to be found; nothing. Perhaps this had always been there. This was a theater after all, and the Phantom of the Opera was a stage production. I crossed my arms and looked back down the hall. "Mariam…I don't think anyone's here. He lied to us. It's a prank, just like I thought it would be." Mariam shrugged.
"I guess so." I couldn't stop staring down the hall. The same mysterious staircase was near the end, and the door to the unisex bathroom sat innocently, like nothing had ever happened.

We seemed to catch on to each other's thoughts and came to its door, then slowly walked inside, holding to each other's arms, but when we got there, the bathroom was entirely quiet and undisturbed, and there were no blood stains on the floor.
"Freaky." She randomly commented. I nodded as I eyed myself in the mirror.
"Let's just get out of here." I said. It all made my stomach feel unsettled.
"I don't understand why some guy would tell you he wanted to meet you and just…not be here."
"It was a prank…remember?" I rushed out of the bathroom. Fuck this. One instance in my life where I felt something meaningful was going to happen and it was all fake. The moment I saw the doors, I noticed that they were both shut. I ran to them without much thought and grabbed the handles but found that they wouldn't open. It scared the shit out of me. Mariam sauntered back, wondering why I hadn't left yet and seemed confused that I was just standing there. "It's locked." Before she could respond I headed over to the theater room entrance, hurrying through the dark for the side door. If this wasn't open I was officially going to panic, and Mariam seemed equally troubled. We came to it a little out of breath, but when she reached the outside, a note fell from the top of the door, fluttering behind me to the inside. She stood there in confusion as I bent down to retrieve it when the door slammed shut, divided us both, and I froze, my eyes growing in the pitch-black. I suddenly regretted ever coming here, ever putting myself in danger. I hadn't a clue who this guy was, hadn't thought that seven at night was the wrong time to come to some place not attached to the school. I felt like an idiot and prey to whoever was in the room with me when a warm fabric hand touched my shoulder and slid down my arm. It grabbed my hand and helped me upwards, then guided me somewhere along the wall. For a while I didn't think it would be right to make any sound…whoever it was, holding my hand and backing up to the corner was so quiet. I don't even remember thinking anything about Mariam who'd been locked outside. Some distant part of my mind could hear her knocking on the door and calling for me but when some type of warmth grew closer, I stopped thinking or knowing…all together. "Are you the one sending me notes…" I asked to the darkness. The hand slid below my grasp and I found myself holding to its arms. Smooth but cold fabric arms…but my fingers couldn't explain this all to me.
"I didn't ask for a party. I asked for you to come to me, alone." It whispered. He whispered. The one sending me notes.
"Who are you?" As soon as I'd said it, the hands seemed to disappear, and I could no longer feel their touch, making my arms tingle. When my fingers wandered over his arms I knew where he was. Now he could've been anywhere. I stood there a long while, never asking another question, but the room was entirely devoid of his presence. I stepped backwards, feeling along the walls until a light above the porch shined into my face as I seeped through the door. But Mariam wasn't there anymore. I descended the steps almost like I was walking on air, then turned into the walkway, and there she was, with hair whipped over her face by the wind.
"What happened?!"
"I don't know."
"Well-"
"I met him."
"Well what did he look like?"
"I-"
"Was it that guy we were talking about, or anyone we know?"
"I don't know."
"How could you not know?"
"It was in the dark. I just felt him." Mariam's eyes widened.
"Come on, let's go back before someone realizes we're gone." She said. I nodded, agreeing that they might get worried, but found myself holding to Mariam's arm and slowly smiling on the way back. "What happened between you? Did he say anything?"
"He said he wanted me to come alone."
"God, this guy really likes you."
"Huh?!" Oh, great. Now I really was smiling. Barely anything happened though. He just… touched my arms, wearing a pair of gloves. That was probably as close to a boy that I'd ever gotten though, so it was exciting for me. Somehow I felt instantly romanced by him. Oh God, I sound like such an idiot.
"Yeah…he likes you. So what does he sound like?"
"He does not like me! We don't even know who it is!"
"Sure he doesn't, now really, what'd he sound like?"
"A guy."
"Yeahhhhh…"
"I don't remember. I was too caught up in the moment to take intimate mental notes about his voice. Next time I'll bring a tape recorder."
"So there's going to be a next time? When?"
"When I explain to him that you came because it was too late and I wasn't brave enough to stop by all by myself. And that I believe in him now."
"So you're actually gonna show up alone and talk to him." The cold in the air started to go up my spine. I started laughing to myself when I realized I was.
"Yes. Now let's go back to my house."
"Alright."

We came back to my house and split a can of soda. As I poured the glasses, I could tell she was just…standing there, not really sure what to say. Then we just awkwardly hanged around the kitchen, sipping and looking around. "So that was pretty weird."
"Yep."
"So…what do we do now?"
"I dunno. Maybe you should go home now." She looked out the kitchen window.
"Probably. It's pretty dark out."
"My mom will get nervous for you."
"Hah! I know." She came to the sink and put her glass in it. I mirrored her and then we headed towards the foot of the stairs where she put her shows on again. I could tell part of her didn't want to leave, and another part wanted to milk out every detail she possibly could, but I felt like it probably just was time. I was weird like this- but I just wanted to be able to sit around and think in depth about what had happened to me. I'm sure you do it sometimes too. I opened the door for her and she stepped out on to the porch and eyed me one more time. "Well, see ya on Monday."
"Byeeee." As soon as she turned toward our walkway, I slowly closed the door and headed upstairs.

…………….

My clothes, smelling like night, sat in a pile on the floor as I stepped into the shower. Playing onto that whole "horror movie" mood, I felt a little strange and uncomfortable standing vulnerable under the water. Perhaps because I had met him in darkness, I expected him to walk out of any shadow. This wasn't an average guy that had contacted me. Something was too eloquent, too graceful about it all. It was something Mariam didn't get, either. To her, the whole concept of the notes, and meeting in the dark, was just a flat one. She hadn't experienced it herself or felt the hand on her. I was growing more and more excited about seeing him again. But why hadn't he told me who he was when I asked? He was some kind of secret admirer.

By midnight I was laying face first into my bed wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts. Thinking about this. No, thinking wasn't a good word: I was dwelling on it. I was wondering all of these things at the same moment- my whole brain, a hurricane of thought. Things whizzed by and then while trying to grasp them, another thing came out and smacked me in the face. Could he have been an underclassman? Or a senior? Tall or short? He felt tall to me. The arms that I held were at a much higher level than my own.

Then of course, there was the obvious question: what was he doing in the dark at the theater? Was it his hang-out place? Did him and his friends go there, so he was familiar with it already? How was he able to lock and unlock the front doors? It was so strange thinking right as I laid there in the darkness of my blank room without a single light, this guy was thinking, breathing, evaluating himself after meeting me: Lily, the girl he knew would find his notes in the band room. And most importantly, he was waiting for my return…