MADELEINE

"Bored, bored, bored." I roll around on the floor. "BOOOOORED."

"Madeleine, stop making all that noise." Papa scolds.

"But it's not fair, Papa!" I whine. "He hasn't spent any time with me! He helped Richard and Élisa with their music, but he's spending all the other time with Stela, Sorina, and Christophe!"

"You'll understand when you're in love, little one."

"I'm never going to fall in love."

"Famous last words, petite."

"No, I mean it. It's icky! All this sticky kissing, and screaming at night." He knocks over some of his papers, staring at me in shock.

"What do you mean, screaming?"

"OH, GOD, YES!" I yell as loud as I can. He shakes his head in the 'I'm very disappointed in you' way.

"You're nighttime exploring again, aren't you?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Don't do that anymore, Madeleine. There are certain things a five year old girl should not do, and exploring a tower in the dead of night is one of them."

"But—"

"No more, do you understand me?"

"I understand." I don't say that I'll do what he wants. "Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Does everyone ignore me because I'm the baby?"

"I wouldn't know." He opens his arms and I climb into his lap. "Your grandmother once thought she'd had a baby after me, and she showered him with attention."

"How do you think you have a baby without having one?"

"I may have had something to do with it." He smiles guiltily. "I wasn't a very good boy when I was your age."

"Did you get punished a lot?"

"Yes, I did. And I know how bad that can feel, which is why I'm generally nicer to you and your siblings. Your Mamma and Meg grew up with a rather formidable mother."

"What's formidable?"

"Intimidating."

"What's intimidating?"

"A little bit scary."

"Oh. I know what scary is."

"I know you do. You're clever." He pinches my nose, and I squeal. "Do you not like that? How about here? How about all over?" He starts tickling me all over and I shriek even louder.

"PAPA, NOOOOOOO!" He stops and kisses my cheek.

"I love you, remember that," he tells me.

"I will. Papa?"

"Yes, Madeleine?"

"If people don't ignore me because I'm the baby, do they ignore me because I'm ugly?"

"Madeleine—"

"You don't have to lie to me, Papa, I know I am. I saw it when Christophe looked at me."

"Madeleine, you're confusing ugly with different. You and I are different. It just took your mother a very long time to teach me that, and I don't want you to go through the same things I did as a child. Just because we're different does not mean there isn't beauty in here." He taps my chest. "Do you understand?"

"I… I think so. How do I make people see what's inside?"

"You find what you love and let it show. So, what do you love, Madeleine." I suck in my face, trying to think.

"Stories!"

Papa laughs and ruffles my hair. "Then tell your stories, petite. A story is a wonderful way to make the world love you."

That was a very long time ago, and things changed. Christophe and Sorina disappeared with three days left before the boys had been due to return. We found out later that they'd eloped on the next ship back to France, where they stayed for the rest of their lives. Christophe went back to serving in the war, which he survived, but they did not see the end of the second great war the world faced. Christophe was killed in action and Sorina taken by the Germans for being a gypsy. We never saw them again, but they sent letters until the invasion. The loss of her sister hit Stela very hard, but she found comfort in Gustave and our family.

Gustave went back to the battlefield alone, and married Stela when the Great War ended. It was very private and simple, just our family, really, which included Meg, Thomas, and their own son, Tommy. They started a family of their own: three little girls, named Meg, Sorina, and Christine. Our father acted disappointed that there weren't any grandsons, but we all knew he doted on the girls. We all did.

Élisa got sick of singing when she was sixteen, and hopped on the first train to California when she was done with school, something Mother was furious about it until we saw her in the movies. Élisa became one of the darlings of Hollywood, then quit due to being "bored of it." After that, she returned to New York, and took up any activity she could think of, only to abandon it when it no longer held her interest. This was also the way she worked with men, and it became something of a right of passage among the men of New York to attempt being interesting enough to hold Élisabeth de Chagny's attention for more than one evening, as well as give our mother grey hairs in the process. Needless to say, she surprised us all with her marriage to Thomas Winterfield, Jr. They gave each other merry hell for the rest of their lives, mainly due to Tommy's ability to be spontaneous.

Richard did his best to be Élisa's opposite, going from his private boy's school to Harvard University, and its attached law school. Though he did inherit the Chagny estate, and was raised by one of America's leading entrepreneurs, he decided to champion the lower classes, even working with President Johnson on his "Great Society." There wasn't any wedding for him, though. It wasn't considered acceptable, but our family did make room for Harry when he joined us. We found it hard not to, he was just that likable of a person.

Father retired and gave Gustave his various companies as a 'present' on his thirtieth birthday. He and Mother enjoyed retirement immensely, though I think they regretted their lack of a true musical protege, as all of us found greater callings: love, adventure, a crusade … and for me, stories.

I started collecting stories in my spare time, running around Coney Island in masks and hoods, watching people and learning their stories. I told these stories in little journals, and read them to my father every night. When I got older, I began sending them into the fiction columns of newspapers and magazines, calling myself the Phantom of Manhattan, something that amused Father and made Mother roll her eyes.

I was the only one of their children who didn't find love with someone, so I stayed with them. Their journey might have taken them a very long time, but when people are meant to find each other, it happens. I didn't want someone to love me like my mother loved my father. I didn't want it. They were really all the love I needed.

~Madeleine Carriere

1979

Author's final note: Thank you to everyone who stuck through this with me. I'm sorry if you wanted the story to be longer, but I could feel my muse slipping away quickly, and I wanted to be able to finish this and move my attention to other projects. Again, thank you. For everything.