IF LOVE WERE A FLOWER
Even More Trouble (cont.)
Once it was decided that they would get married Erik tried to get it over with as soon as possible. It was not easy for there was no priest, no cleric feeling responsible for fairground people. There was not even a proper church or chapel.
Erik turned to Mr. Singer - if he had to pay that rat an outrageous salary as consultant he could at least do something for his money. And answering where the next church might be surely wouldn't be too much to ask.
Mr. Singer sat on his balcony on in his penthouse on top of the variety and enjoyed the sun, smoking a cigar and having a drink. He grinned at Erik as he approached. "Welcome my friend!" Sam greeted him warmly, "Had I known how easy life would be after selling the theater I would have done that years ago!"
Erik merely grunted in annoyance, he hated to see the other man living a good life at his expense. The contract demanded that Singer would stay as consultant at least five years for a princely fee.
"What can I do for you today?" Sam asked and gestured for Erik to sit next to him on the wooden bench.
"I need a church or a chapel or something like that," Erik asked.
"Whatever for? O - let me guess, you are going to marry the blonde dancer! Congratulations!"
"Was it that obvious?" Erik asked embarrassed.
The rat-like man chuckled. "You bet. Except you and her mother everyone knew."
"Just answer my question!"
"Well... there are many churches in New York. Catholic or Protestant?"
"Catholic. Tell me, why isn't there even one single pastor on Coney Island? No one feels in charge of the fairground people!" Erik complained.
"Tell that to the bishop."
Erik made a mental note to write a letter to the bishop, demanding that fairground people wanted to have the same pastoral counseling as everybody else. Not that he himself cared much about that but he strongly disliked that they were treated differently than the rest of the populace.
Erik had to take the new train from Coney Island to go to the city and reach some chapel. He hated to have to go to the train station where many people waited for the train. Buying a ticket was hard enough for the man stared at his mask in shock and Erik wasn't sure if the man behind the ticket window would cry for help thinking he was intending robbery. Erik went to the station platform, his head bowed, trying to conceal his mask as much as possible with his hat. He could not wear a cloak that day, the weather was rather hot.
If he had hoped to stay aside and be ignored he was mistaken. He was recognized as the masked magician from the variety and suddenly found himself in the middle of a group of people who wanted to talk to him, children who wanted to see him, people asking him if he would show them a trick now - Erik couldn't understand anything for they were all talking at the same time, but there were far too many people too close to him now. He felt panic rise in his chest for he didn't know how they would react in the end and the prospect of having to be in the same wagon for an hour with them was frightening.
None of these people had any ill intentions towards him, on the contrary, they were excited meeting the masked magician in person for they loved his shows, but Erik would have preferred to run away now. As if he had time to run. He should be back there, working, but he had to arrange his marriage and he had to do it soon, it was June, the baby due in September, he had to make the notice of intended marriage because it would take three weeks until they would have the ceremony. Three weeks - that was end of June and Meg's condition would be all too visible then.
"That's very kind of you..." he answered to someone telling him how much his children loved his magic shows, "But - please, ladies and gentlemen, I am not on stage and I beg your indulgence that I cannot give you a show for free here on the platform or on the train. The railway company would sue me. I'm really sorry, I can't."
They accepted this, but Erik had to endure the children approaching him and asking endless questions he refused to answer, but he had to do it in a friendly way, always careful that he would not upset them or their parents. They were paying audience and of course he wanted them to come again.
"I like the wolf," a girl said, grinning and reaching out to Erik with sticky fingers. He managed to suppress a disgusted shudder, hoping his own child would never come to him with sticky fingers and a snotty nose. He considered telling her that the wolf was certainly not intended to be liked by anyone, but reconsidered.
"Would you like to see more automatons like the wolf?" he asked.
"O yes!" the girl was excited and suddenly Erik found himself surrounded by even more people. He felt the very strong urge to run.
"Well then..." he managed to answer with a friendly smile and a steady voice even if he felt his heart pounding in his throat, his stomach heaving and he could only hope he wouldn't soil himself in his panic. The crowd was friendly, they actually admired him, he repeated in his head again and again, trying to calm himself. Smile, he told himself, smile and be friendly, maybe they won't kill me then.
The train came and Erik was pushed inside a train car - third class of course, he could not buy expensive tickets - and was pushed to sit on one of the wooden benches, the crowd still around him so no conductor would ever be able to get to him. The stench of the railway car was horrible - so many people in the hot summer day, the stench of sweat and smoke from the steam engine was horrible and if that was not bad enough a horde of children was pushed towards him, all of them sticky and greasy with soot from the steam engine and most of them with snoot on their cheeks and hands.
Erik had a hard time to get out of that damned train car at the right station. He couldn't resist the urge to run any longer and somehow made it out of the station and a few streets away, hoping he would not be recognized immediately now. The only problem was that he had never been there and had to find his way to the church he had chosen. It was not easy. He had looked it up in a map but right now after the ordeal in the train he had completely forgotten where the church was. Was it the third or the fourth street to the left? Was it really left or had he mistaken the cardinal direction? Just where the hell was he now?
And he was of course not alone - the streets were full of carriages, horses and people, every now and then even a car. He turned round and noticed the stares from people who passed him. He couldn't determine if they were afraid of him, interested, mistook his intentions or if they hated him and considered using violence to remove him from their streets. Everything was possible but there were so many people he just could not even begin to sort out which ones might be friendly.
Erik stopped in a somewhat less frequented spot, taking a deep breath. A glass of water would be nice, but first he needed to find out where exactly he was and where the church was. He saw a beggar sitting at the ground, a half-empty bottle next to him.
"Excuse me," he addressed the beggar, "Can you tell me where the church is?"
"If you want to beg there, forget it. That is Irish territory when it comes to begging and pocket-picking," the beggar replied, his speech slurred by the alcohol.
Great. Even the beggar thought he was just another beggar or thief. Erik looked down on his clothing. The clothing was crumpled, covered with soot and he could only assume that the stench of sweat was as bad as everyone else's in these streets. The left leg of his trousers looked like he had somehow blotted himself. It must have happened in the train, he assumed. "No, I need to speak with the priest," Erik replied angrily.
"If you give me a coin, I tell you."
Erik searched his pockets, unsure if he had any money with him. He usually left the variety without a purse, knowing he could easily steal one. He found 'his' purse, but there was not much left after he had bought the ticket. Was it more important to get some tea-water or find the church? Never mind, he could always steal another purse. There were enough passers-by who would provide what he needed. He took out a coin and showed it to the beggar, who in turn told him that he had taken the wrong way - he had left the railway station at the wrong entrance and would have to go back now and at the other side of the railway station he would already see the church steeple.
The masked man considered keeping the coin, but when he looked down at the beggar he decided he could not swindle such a poor man. That man did not even posses a shirt. He had ragged trousers and a jacket, both so dirty Erik could not even guess the color these rags might have had. No shoes. No hat. Nothing. That beggar must have literally sold the clothes he wore. He could not swindle that man, not now. He gave him the coin, deciding to steal another purse for he just needed to buy a glass of tea-water.
Erik took off his hat as he entered the church, enjoying the cool air and the darkness there. It was quiet, really quiet. He had missed the cool darkness and the silence so much, experiencing it again was overwhelming. Far too long he had been bereft of that particular luxury.
Unfortunately he didn't have time to enjoy the silence, he had to find the priest and talk to him about the wedding. The priest was surprised when he saw Erik, but accepted Erik's explanation that the reason for the mask was that he was a fairground magician and the mask his trademark. Erik had to listen to a lengthy lecture from the priest as he confessed that the marriage was really urgent for the baby would be born in September. Erik endured the lecture, not listening. He surely did not care about that particular sin when he was already planning the next crimes - murder and insurance swindle. He almost laughed when he realized that he had used the time to work out the details of the accident that would kill the heavily insured workmen, he could stop himself just in time and hung his head in shame - that is, he hung his head and hoped the priest would mistake it for shame.
Finally he got the priest to agree to perform the wedding not in a church but in the theater in Coney Island early in the morning, before any customers would come. A small wedding without any guests, only the priest and, well, the family. The family would be Antoinette Giry of course and on Erik's side his best friends, the freaks he considered his family by now. It would be a fight to get Meg to agree to allow him to have Fat Suzie and Attamamma there, he knew she was jealous for a good reason. He should never have confessed his little adventures.
Going home would be another problem. There were so many people waiting at the train station, Erik was not sure he could endure that again. He knew he would never make it back to Coney Island on foot in time for the magic show, but he just could not bring himself to enter any overcrowded last-class-compartment in that damnable train again. He'd rather risk hours of forced march and a cancelled show.
He was just about to leave the church as another man entered - Bruno Riccy! What was he doing there?
The priest greeted Bruno Riccy with a friendly smile and a deep bow and thanked him for the generous donation for the orphanage.
Erik stood there, trying not to let on that he knew Signore Riccy, as the priest introduced them. "Signore Riccy, one of our most honorable community members. He finances the orphanage almost alone," the priest began, "Mister Riccy, this is Mr. Y, a new member of our community I hope?"
Erik bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying that he was certainly not interested in becoming a parishioner - and if, certainly not anywhere Riccy was called an honorable man. Riccy smiled friendly and extended a hand. "I had not known you were a man looking for the guidance of Church," he said as he and Erik shook hands, "Must be hard to live a life agreeable to God with a job like yours."
"I'm nothing but a humble stage performer," Erik replied smoothly, "And I'm afraid I have to head back to Coney Island immediately."
"May I offer to give you a ride?"
Erik was about to decline, but Riccy insisted and not wanting to give away how much he was scared of the other man he finally accepted. At least he would not have to take the train.
As they sat in the backseat of Riccy's fancy car Erik watched the driver: No danger there - the driver couldn't drive and fight at the same time. No other men, Riccy surely had weapons but in an open car in the streets in broad daylight in an area where Riccy had to protect his reputation?
"Signore, I'm grateful for the ride, but are you sure this is the right direction?" he said, preparing to jump out of the car any moment now.
"Don't worry, you'll reach the variety in time for your show. Do you see the weird man over there?" Riccy pointed with his walking cane. Made of ivory, Erik noticed with much envy. But after living in Coney Island for three years Erik could not see any man who looked other than perfectly normal to him. "Over there - brown suit, pink shirt, purple cravat, grey shoes!" Riccy snapped.
Erik looked at the man. "Maybe he's color-blind, what of it?" he shrugged.
Riccy stared at him briefly then laughed. "Color-blind! Ha! We've watched him for years and never found out why he dresses so tasteless!" The Italian became serious again and signaled the driver to drive faster - if possible. "Remember his face," he instructed Erik, "For I have need of your talents."
Erik gulped. He could assume what that meant and didn't like it. "Signore Riccy, maybe you finally decide on which side you want me to be - am I just another businessman whom you can extort at your whim or am I one of your... errr... trusted friends?" the masked man said, keeping his voice steady, "I'm fine with both sides, so I leave the decision to you."
The way Riccy stared at him coldly made Erik want to jump but he forced himself to relax and pretend to be calm.
"Maybe you asked yourself why the landowners agreed to sell their property so easily?" Riccy asked, making a point in speaking casually but never taking his sharp eyes from Erik, who stared back unblinking, "Consider yourself being one of my friends already - and it is I who granted you a favor already." Riccy broke the eye-contact first and settled back in his expensive leather seat. "Consider it a test," he said, "If this man has an unfortunate accident this year and dies or is permanently disabled to do his job as special prosecutor, then I will never ask one Cent of you."
Erik took in a sharp breath as he calculated quickly. He could let four or five men live, kill only seven or eight of the ones with the live insurances. Five. Five would live, he decided, he would kill as less as possible without endangering himself.
"Yes, sir," he replied as enthusiastic as he could manage.
When they were at Coney Island, the car suddenly stopped and Riccy yelled at the driver. "Batteries empty," Erik replied with a shrug, "What a pity - even if you find someone who has an electric generator you'll have to wait for hours until the batteries are recharged." He got out of the car and took off his hat with a deep bow. "Thank you for the ride. I'll walk the last few meters."
He walked away as fast as he could without running.
"Congratulations to your upcoming wedding!" Riccy called after him and Erik felt as if these words were a dagger in his back. He couldn't overlook the serious threat in the Italian's words.
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Thank you for reading! Please review!
Next week my updating schedule will be a bit different. I won't be able to keep my Monday - Wednesday - Friday schedule and beg your indulgence. I think it will be Tuesday and Thursday, but I can't promise.