Maggie
"Why did you have to be so bloody skinny," muttered Joseph, as he tightened the suspenders on the pants he lent me.
"Why can't I just wear me own clothes, Jesus, at least me own pants? You said it yourself; I basically dress like a boy anyway."
The way he yanked contemptuously at the suspenders informed me that one side must be jammed. This did nothing to improve my thinning patience.
"Because, my clothes, thankfully, don't necessarily flatter the feminine figure. Damn these unholy suspenders!"
I let out an unmistakable sigh of frustration.
"There, done. Let's have a look at ya."
He stood back to observe his handiwork. I glanced down to see his bulky white undershirt hanging off one shoulder, a suspender strap soon to join it. The pants were all wrong. I looked like a half-stuffed potato sack. Raising my unenthused gaze to meet my brothers, I regarded him with a most sour expression.
"You must be joking."
"Well, what do you propose we do, Your Majesty?" He'd taken to calling me that few times already. Saying something offhand about dames never being content with anything they're given.
"I don't know! You're the guy, you figure it out!"
Making a sound somewhat akin to a horse, he rubbed his hand over his face. After a tense moment he suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Jacques."
"Jacques. Good. What's a Jacques?"
"He's one of me mates, and just about your size. Come on."
He grabbed my arm to pull me along, but I yanked it back.
"Whoa, hold on. Just what exactly are you going to tell him? "Ello mate, how's life? Oh, by the way, I was wonderin' if I could borrow an extra set of yer clothes for my femininity-impaired, cross-dressing sister," which would lead to "Oh yeah, didn't you know I had a sister?" I finished, strained and out of breath.
"Would you calm down? Good gravy, girl. I will handle it. Trust me."
"HA!"
"Don't start."
I didn't say anything more on the matter, and decided to put what little faith I had into my older brother. Although he wasn't exactly ingenious, Joseph was cunning. All Buquets were. He went off on his little mission. In the meantime, I was stuck in the potato-sack attire.
It took awhile to locate Jacques, since he was not much of an early riser. Joseph finally found him downing a cup of coffee near the Café de L' Opera.
"Jacques!" He waved to get his attention.
"Hey, Joseph! How goes the day?" Joseph took a seat next to him.
The café was bustling with company member and employees, all eager to finish their morning meals, and get the day started.
"I've got a favor to ask of you, Jacques. I need to borrow a set of your clothes."
Jacques set down his coffee and in all seriousness, said "Not to be rude, but I don't think my clothes will fit you."
"No, they're not for me…"
Maggie
"About bloody time!"
I jumped up from the bed as Joseph came through the door, and quickly snatched the articles of clothing from him.
"Did he ask any questions?" I threw off the suspenders and Joseph turned around to face the opposite wall.
"What do you think?" he responded.
"Well what did you tell him?"
"Don't worry about it. It's all taken care of."
I shimmied into the new pair of pants, which were a remarkably close fit. I was grateful that this Jacques included his own suspenders.
"Taken care of," I muttered, "Can't even take care of yourself."
"Finish dressin'," Joseph ordered.
On our way up through the cellars, Joseph drilled all this nonsensical blather into my head about what I was to say or not say; how I was to walk, act, sit, stand…
"How the hell is this relevant?" I whined. "It's not like they've never seen girls in men's clothes before."
He didn't answer me, and that's when I felt that sprouting seed of suspicion begin to bud.
Erik
There was much to be done before the performance of Faust, and though he loathed being up there amongst a throng of witless, superstitious imbeciles, he felt it necessary to oversee the production; make any corrections he saw fit. The new managers were obviously strangers to this area of business, because that's all it was to them: business. He doubted whether they held any real pride or interest in the arts.
Therefore, he felt that they would greatly benefit from his "guidance." He had not seen the girl who claimed to be Buquet's sister after leaving them the previous night, and so, had easily put her out of mind. He had other matters to think about.
Making his way high up into the stage flies, he noticed that most of the stagehands were already at work, starting new tasks or finishing old ones. He didn't pay them much attention as he moved further into the shadows, and waited for rehearsal to begin, which wouldn't be for another half hour.
That's when he saw them walk in…
…Joseph Buquet and a scrawny boy in suspenders, wearing a cap that was tipped low, covering his face. I watched Joseph turn and whisper to the smaller boy as they climbed up the ladder to the catwalks. Seeing as hardly any of the opera cast had arrived yet, I felt a keen interest in finding out the morning report from the stagehands.
Joseph
He could tell she was nervous. Perhaps it was his own fault for making such a big deal over this deception. No—it wasn't so much deception as it was discretion. Before they entered the company of his fellow stagehands, he turned to say,
"Just make sure you don't say anything too…womanly."
"Headline news, Joseph. I am a woman!"
"Then don't say anything!" he whispered harshly, ending the conversation.
"Joseph! We were beginning to give up on you. Give us a hand, will ya?"
"That one's Salty." He pointed to the one that had just called out to him.
"Salty, how?"
Joseph rolled his eyes. "No, I mean that's his name; Salty. Over there is Gerard. He's also the Opera's rat-catcher…"
He led his reluctant sister into the realm of stagehands, pointing out and naming a few.
"And that one's Blackcap. He's that English chap I ran into last night. 'Came to us with that nickname, believe it or not. He said it was a pet name since he so closely resembled the bird. He makes not-half-bad bird calls, as well."
"Look here, Buquet's got us a newbie!"
A boy, several years younger than Maggie, slid down one of the secured ropes to land on the same catwalk as them. They were immediately swarmed by a gathering of Joseph's closest mates.
Joseph laughed, gently placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "This is our aspiring acrobat, Remy. He's Jacques's younger brother."
A tan, slender, dark-haired young man stepped out of the small crowd.
"Speak of the devil…This here, is Jacques."
"I see you put my clothes to quick use." He addressed Joseph, before smiling down at Maggie. Jacuqes was only a few inches taller.
"So, now that you know who we all are, who might you be?"
Before she could open her mouth, Joseph spoke for her.
"This is Mag—"
"—Magpie." Maggie quickly covered, stepping in front of her brother.
"Actually, my real name's Sidney. "Magpie's" just a nickname."
"Right! Since birth" Joseph chimed in. "Magpie, here, 's me younger brother, just come from Ireland."
'Just go with it, Maggie.' He pleaded silently, as she whipped her head around to face him with saucer-wide eyes. He was afraid this unspecified surprise would trip her up in her guise. However, she quickly regained composure, and at a brief glance at the men's faces, they looked ready to accept anything Maggie said. She spoke again, mistakenly, in a softer voice.
"It was extremely kind of you to let me—,"
"AHHEEERGHM!" She was interrupted by a massive cough, as well as a nudge in the back by Joseph. She immediately dropped her voice a couple octaves.
"Uh, I mean, it was sure swell of ya to lend a brother a hand." She finished gruffly, slapping Jacuqes playfully on the arm.
Jacques raised both eyebrows at her abnormal behavior before smiling awkwardly, and turning to walk away.
"Sure—no sweat."
Maggie smiled after him before leaning back to roll her eyes towards Joseph, dreading what was to come next in this awkward scene of deception. Luckily, Joseph took over the reigns.
"Remy, I want Sidney to go with you. Show he—him the ropes around here."
Joseph barely flinched at his almost-costly mistake, but let out a giant huff of breath as soon as they were out of sight, feeling that he was nearly losing control. This would be no walk in the park.
