A/N: Greetings to all once again. This time I decided to do something a little bit different than the regular Christine and Raoul Chapters by shifting to a different POV, leading up to the events of the previous chapter, and attempting to develop some important threads left uncoved thus far. This will be part one of his perspective because the chapter was simply getting much too long to be a single thing (It's already the longest chapter as is) so I split it. Good news is that it shouldn't be too long before part 2 is published, and it will probably be much shorter than this chapter. Thank you to everyone who is still sticking by, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Cheers and stay safe.
x
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The lost one . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Forgive me, my son" were the last words uttered by his frail lips before he died. Buried without a proper tombstone by the church he attended, John Miller left an infant son of eight to fend for himself. Filled with debt, his house was taken by the bank mere days after his death, leaving his son at the mercy of the church's orphanage.
The child however, didn't feel that supposed mercy. He felt ostracized by the other children and even by some of the nuns there. The breaking point for him was a day in which one of the kids stole his soup bowl from him at breakfast. The portions were already very small, couldn't even fill half of a medium sized bowl, and each kid was only entitled to one portion per breakfast, lunch and dinner. Times were tough and money was short in that church, but when that kid stole his bowl, saying that such precious food shouldn't be wasted on the likes of him, not a single nun stepped in to defend him. Still, he was refused another bowl at the cantina, the rules were strict. So, he tried to get his bowl back from the boy who stole it. He was sitting at a table, with four other boys, eating their soup and talking about something to which he paid no attention. As he approached, the conversations stopped and the boys began staring at him. Arriving at the table, he said: "Give me back my soup!" as he angrily took the bowl from the boy, attempting to run away afterwards.
It was a futile effort anyways; the bowl was already mostly empty, what little there was left of soup splashed away from the bowl during the run, and the boys ran after him. He threw the empty bowl at the boys, but missed all of them, shattering the bowl in the ground. Eventually they caught up to him, and pushed him into the ground, where he was beaten under the eyes of the nuns and the priest, who had recently arrived. The nuns intervened eventually, separating the boys and gripping Gus by the wrist.
The five bullies were punished with extra chores, but he was to be punished by staying locked inside a room for the rest of the day, since he broke a bowl and "started the fight". No amount of pleading from his part could sway the nuns' stance. That was when he broke free from her grip and stormed out of the church, into the streets. "Gustavo, wait!" was among the cries he heard as he ran out, and the only one he paid any mind to, coming from the only friendly soul he encountered in that orphanage, the priest, old father McKenzie. He had been a friend of his father's before he died, and was the reason he got a burial at all, truly a kind soul, but much too absent from the goings on inside the actual orphanage.
He kept running after he got out of the orphanage, ran until he couldn't anymore. Eventually Gus settled into a street he had never been to before. As he rested, fear started to rise in him, but it was subsided by the anger he felt at the orphanage, those boys, at God himself. We wandered around the streets for a while until the hunger really kicked in. He sat on the sidewalk and started to cry, doing his best to conceal his face and tears. He sat there until he spotted a familiar face coming towards him. It was father McKenzie. As soon as he recognized his face, Gus tried to run away, but he was halted by his shout:
-Gustavo, please wait!
-I'm not going back there! You can't take me back! – Said the boy, preparing to dart off again.
-I know, I won't. I just want to talk to you, I promise. – Said the priest as he approached the boy. – I want to hear your side of the story.
He sat beside Gus on the sidewalk, and invited him to sit as well. The boy complied, although somewhat reluctantly. He took that chance to explain himself and what really happened to the attentive ears of the priest.
-I am really sorry for what happened, my boy… - Said the priest, perplex.
-Yet you were there watching while I was being beat up! – Replied Gus in anger.
-It was a grave mistake, my boy. I flinched. Asked first what you had done, rather than stopping a barbarity no child deserves…
-You could have stopped them, you could have talked to the nuns, they look at me like I'm some sort of animal! – He said, tears streaming from his eyes in a mix of desolation and anger.
-Please forgive me son… - Said the priest.
That only aggravated the boy however. As anger overcame him, he said:
-You are not MY father – Before attempting to run away again. The father managed to grip his hand before he could escape though:
-LET GO OF ME! – Shouted Gus, struggling against his grip.
The father paused for a while before attempting to calm the boy down and said:
-My boy, please, listen to me. There are many evils left to purge from this world, but I promise you, I will start at my church. It may take time, a long time, but I ask you to stay with us during this period. I will let go of your arm, and you will have a choice of either coming with me now and having a roof to sleep under, or going on your own way. Regardless of what you choose, rest assured you will always be welcome in that church and in that orphanage, do you understand? All I ask for is a second chance. I want to make things right; I want to improve the orphanage.
The boy was staring at him with fire and water in his eyes during that speech. He ran away as soon as he was let go by the priest, but not without looking back to witness the sadness and distress the man's face.
The next few days were filled with hardship and doubt for the poor boy. He slept on the streets among the scornful looks of most passersby, and survived due to the mercy of a few strangers who would give him coins and food. He spent most of his days wandering around the city, attempting to enjoy the freedom he now had. At night, at the end of a hard day of either boredom or of begging for food, a perfect palette cleanser and opportunity to just sit still and relax for him was to hang out near wherever there was music playing. Luckily that was in no short supply at the city of Charles Town. There were pubs and bars aplenty where they'd often sing and play popular songs for the entertainment of the clients, and the attraction of potential customers.
There was also the local opera house, which wasn't as pleasant to listen to at first, since it was all performed inside of a closed space. Still, the walls were thin enough that he could hear something, and it was even clearer if he snuck into the backside of the opera house. That was a tricky procedure because that was where the actors and musicians left the building, and often one would leave before the show was even over. Eventually, after trial, error and bruises, he found a way to climb onto a balcony above the doors, with even better (or at least less bad) sound quality. In a way that was what kept him coming back there in lieu of the more easily accessible bars and such. There was a thrill to sneaking around, going to such lengths trying to go undetected. But above that, he was more intrigued by the sounds that came out of that building. It was so much more complex and fuller than the simple fiddle or guitar tunes he'd hear at bars, it was as if there was a sea of fiddles accompanied by strange but beautiful sounds he'd never heard before in his short life. The most beautiful of those sounds he knew though: the piano. A very special instrument to him, the most special. It was the single biggest thing that kept him coming back there.
That is until the piano tunes suddenly ceased to be played at the opera. While he still liked the other kinds of music played there, he eventually took to spending more of his days nearer to the orphanage, but not too near. Despite his hatred for the place, it always seemed like he had more luck on finding merciful souls to give him some coins or even food in the streets nearer to it. After some time, he started seeing papers glued to walls and light poles everywhere pleading for donations to the orphanage, so he couldn't get away from that place even far away from it anyway.
But not a day went by in which he didn't miss having a roof to sleep under, precarious as it was back in the orphanage. The desolate face of Father McKenzie was also still something that haunted his memories. Alas, a mixture of residual anger, grief and stubbornness stopped him from ever attempting to set foot in there again. And so, he kept on roaming the streets.
On the second week of his street dwelling days, something peculiar called his attention. On the other side of the road, there was a very tall man in an unusual outfit attempting to approach the passersby, whom either ignored or actively ran away from him. He was carrying a medium sized suitcase, which made Gus think he was an outsider who just came into the city. That wasn't a rare sight around the train station, but they were almost a mile away from there. The man continued to try talking to the people around him but to no avail. Frustrated, he motioned to throw his luggage onto the ground, but didn't. Instead, he placed it there, not too gently, as if there was something fragile inside, and sat beside it, head on his knees. "He must be lost", thought the boy. Perhaps in a bout of sympathy, he decided to approach that man:
- 'Scuse me mister… Um, are you lost mister? – No response was given. After a pause, the boy continued:
-Mister? Maybe I can help, are you lost? – After a short pause, the man, seemingly reluctantly, raised his head and looked Gus in the eyes, silent.
Under that huge black cape and hat, there was a very pale and skinny man with an unusual face, ragged clothes and a messy uneven hair.
-Are you a foreigner mister? – That question seemed to surprise the man, who finally spoke:
-Yes, yes, I am French… From France. – The man said in a thick French accent, studying the boy.
-Oh - "That explains it", Thought Gus upon hearing his remarkably foreign accent. "That must be why people were running from him, he's different." He thought.
-So, are you lost? I know this city very well now. I help! – Said the boy as he grew more curious about the man in front of him.
-I… Yes, I just arrived at this city through a carriage… I am looking for the Opera, I was told there was an Opera nearby. – That lit up the boy's expression like fireworks.
-Are you a music man, mister? Can you play Music? – He asked enthusiastically.
-Well, yes, I am a musician – Said the man, as a smile briefly slipped onto his lips. – I am looking for job at the opera. Do you know where to find it? Or where to find carriage that can take me there?
-I can take you there! It's a bit of a walk but not too far off. – The boy said with the enthusiasm intact in his voice.
-That would be great. Um… Thank you.
And so, they went on their way to the opera house. The boy knew the shortest way there, but decided not to take it, for he was intrigued to meet a real musician for the first time. Their conversation started slowly as the man didn't really seem like the talking type, but he became increasingly keen on answering his questions, and seemed happy just to talk about music. Gus then realized he was having a full conversation with someone for the first time since his father died, and that made him feel… alive again. On their way the man explained to him what went on inside an opera house, what instruments there were in an orchestra and how it all came together with the lead of a "maestro". Their conversation eventually came to a halt once they arrived at the opera house. The man entered the building without addressing the boy so, Gus waited outside.
He figured that the man would try to audition for a job in the opera, maybe as one of those fancy fiddlers or flutists. Those were about the only instruments he knew of that could fit inside his briefcase. In any case he decided to sneak around his usual spot at the balcony behind the opera to try and listen in to his playing. To his surprise, what he heard was the sound of a piano. A song he had never heard before, absolutely beautiful, even through the walls of the opera. "Is that really him?" he thought in awe. Unfortunately, as all things do, the song ended, and the boy went rushing through the front door, eager to talk to the man again. Sure enough, he exited the opera house to be greeted by an enthusiastic Gus:
-Was that you playing the piano?
-Did you come inside to listen in?
-Oh no, they never did let me in… But I know of other ways…
-Secret passageways?
-Well, not exactly… I just sneak into the back and climb onto a balcony that is always locked. But still, you can hear pretty good from there. – That brought a smile to the man's otherwise solemn and somber face. – Oh, but don't tell anyone mister, please, or else they will find me and kick me out and who knows what else…
-We all have our secrets kid, yours is safe with me. – The man said coldly. Gus smiled. The man started walking and was followed by the boy:
-So, do you play the piano mister? – He asked once again enthusiastically.
-Among other things, I do. – The man seemed distraught with something.
-I love the piano… My mother used to play it for me when I was little. What song were you playing?
-It was a song I wrote back in France. – He said, uneasily
-You're a writer too? That is so amazing!
-I suppose… Listen, kid, are there any hotels nearby? Or houses for rent? I need somewhere to stay right now. Being outside is not good for me.
-Well… I know of an inn over in that street – The boy motioned to a parallel street from where they were standing.
-I shall get to it then. Farewell. – He said as he motioned to leave hurriedly.
-Can I come with you mister? I want to hear more about the piano… - Said the boy interrupting his motion.
-I think it's best you go home kid, ask your mother about it. – He said before turning away from the boy.
-My mother is dead mister. – Gus said, stopping the man in his track. – And I don't have a home… I live on the streets pretty much ever since my father died. – As memories rushed back into the child's head, silence seemed to befall the whole world, despite the sounds of steps and carriages still being constant. The man turned back to him:
-Did you love her? Your mother. – The man asked, looking into Gus' eyes. It was then that Gus realized the man had an intense but kind stare, with one pale blue eye on the half of his face that looked different from most other people's faces, and also looked scarred. Nonetheless he responded:
-Yes… But now all that's left of her are the memories I still have of her playing to me. – He said as he darted his glare to the ground.
-Do you really have no place to stay?
-I don't anymore. – He said, eyes still on the ground.
-Are you hungry?
-Yes… - The boy said, finding it increasingly difficult to contain his tears. Silence struck for a while.
-Can you not even bear to look at my face anymore? – The man said in a mix of anger and sadness. – I knew it, you're scared of me, just like everybody else. – The man said as the sadness overcame his voice. Confused, Gus rose his tear-stained face and looked at him again:
-Scared? Why would I be scared of you mister?
-Well, you have seen my face. – He said, taken aback by the boy's expression and answer.
-I am scared mister, of many things… I'm scared of not having anything to eat, I'm scared of going back to that orphanage… But I'm not scared of you or your face. – Silence struck as the man seemed confused but speechless. – You're the first person I've really talked to since my dad died…
The man once again looked into Gus' eyes.
-Maybe you should be scared of me. -He said before pausing, looking down and about for a while. - But I'm glad you are not. – He continued. – I bring you with me, give you food, but only for tonight. – Gus cleaned his eyes, happy:
-Thank you, mister. Thank you very much.
-What is your name, kid?
-My name is Gustavo, but you can call me Gus. What is your name? – The man hesitated before answering.
-You can call me… Erik.
They silently headed straight into the nearest inn, whereupon Erik gave the boy a sum of money for him to buy a few items of food and return to him. Gus complied, and returned with the requested items.
-You could have taken the money for yourself, ran away, never to see me again. – Said Erik.
-That would be a bad thing to do mister. I may live on the streets, but my dad didn't raise a thief. – He said, remembering the words his father used to defend him of being called a thief once.
-You are a good kid. Don't let your kindness slip away from you. – He said before motioning to the things Gus brought. – Come sit with me, and let's eat.
These words lit up a famished Gus, and he gladly hopped onto the table. The meal was simple, just bread and ham, but it was like a feast compared to what he was used to. When they finished eating, Gus asked:
-Will you be the new piano player in the opera?
-To my luck, yes. They were indeed in need for a pianist. – Erik responded.
-That is terrific! I was really sad when the piano tunes stopped…
-How long ago was that?
-It's been a week maybe. Feels like it's been forever though.
-It is an unusually long time for an orchestra to be without a pianist.
-Yeah… I wish I could play the piano. – Erik didn't comment on that. Instead after a pause he said:
-Earlier you mentioned you didn't want to go back to the orphanage. You escaped from it?
-Yes… I hated it! Most people treated me different. Like I was lower than the other kids. Those kids even beat me once and nobody did anything. – Erik contemplated the boy for a while, as if immersed in thought.
-You said "most people". Was there a kind soul there?
-Well… There was Father McKenzie. He was a friend of my father, and always treated my kindly, as he would anybody else. – Gus paused for a while, remembering the priest's face as he darted away from him. – He went after me when I escaped. Said he wanted a second chance, to try and improve the orphanage or something. But he was always too busy for us. – He said, as tears started welling in his eyes. Silence once again struck the room, until Erik spoke, eyes pointed to the ground:
-People are nasty. They are afraid of what they don't understand, of what is different. I used to have nothing but hatred towards humanity, and thoroughly disbelieved love even existed in the world. – He paused.
-What happened to you, mister? – Asked Gus, timidly.
-My face… I was born mostly like this. Ostracized by society, exhibited at freak shows, laughed at. It fed my hatred for years. Hatred above all for myself. Many of these scars were self-inflicted. My eye turned blind and blue from this abuse, which made me look more like a freak, and that in turn made me hate myself even more. I became hateful towards people, numb to my own feelings. Because of that I lost everything I had, lost pretty much all I ever loved. But I did feel love. And that is what keeps me alive still.
He paused for a bit before looking Gus in the eyes:
– Don't let who you are get away from yourself, kid. The world may be a steaming hell hole of prejudice and indifference, but as much as I still hate it, there is love in it. And it needs more kind people like you. Don't repeat my mistakes. – Erik said, as tears made their way into his eyes. To his surprise, he was hit with Gus' embrace and they both cried. It was the most innocent and pure embrace he had felt in his entire life.
After a while, Erik composed himself and they let go of each other.
-You may stay here for the night, but I can't offer you any more than that. I suggest you go pay your old priest a visit. – That startled Gus, but he remained silent.
-The fact that I am alive must mean that I believe even the foulest of souls deserves a second chance if he means to change. See if he does mean to change, but if not, don't waste too much of your time there.
-I think I will, mister. – Said a somber Gus. – When will you play at the opera?
-Wednesday night, that is three days from now. But… - Erik paused for a while, contemplating the child who stood before him. – I will be at the opera tomorrow. I want you to come first thing in the morning. Front door, no hiding.
-Really? – Said an ecstatic Gus.
-Yes, and now you should be getting to sleep and so do I.
And so they went to bed, well, Gus would sleep in a big chair that was in the room, while Erik got the single bed. It took a bit too long for the boy to actually fall asleep due to how excited he was. Overslept, Gus woke up to an empty room, and immediately darted off to the opera house. Arriving there, he was escorted by a receptionist to where a masked man sat by a Great Piano. "Is that Erik?" he thought.
-Gus, I am glad you came. – When their eyes met, Gus confirmed his suspicions. Erik was clad in a full-face mask, not unlike any other mask found in that theater.
-I know, this mask isn't exactly easy on the eyes, but at least it's better than my face.
-Your face isn't so bad once you get used to it.
-I've had a lifetime to get used to it, but never did. Anyways, I'll forge a better mask later. I've called you here because I have a proposal to make.
-What is it? – Said a curious Gus.
-I talked to the owner of this establishment, and I will be performing at this opera with a few conditions.
-Conditions?
-Yes, it is not everyday that a musician of my caliber just offers himself to work for such a measly pay. In lieu of a pay raise, my conditions are nothing but fair.
-Which conditions are those?
-First that they let me teach you piano here, second that they give you permission to watch any and all operas here, on your own box.
Gus was absolutely taken aback by this.
-What? Why… why me? – He said, in shock.
-I can't see why not. You are young, have a natural passion for the piano and opera music in general. Besides, I have way too many sins I can't atone to. If I can make a difference in one person's life, maybe my existence has a purpose after all. – He paused for a bit before taking his mask off and looking Gus in the eyes. – And you're one of the few people who never judged me by what I looked like. You are a kind kid, I can not let you go to waste on the corner of some street. – At this point tears were flowing from the child's eyes as he silently listened. -Which is why I also ask you to try going back to the orphanage. My pay is barely enough to sustain myself, and I haven't the faintest skills to be a proper guardian to you. So, it is best you live there and come here for your lessons.
-But… What if they don't let me go out if I go back there?
-Make being able to leave your condition for staying. Besides, you could escape again if you want. – Gus remained silent but in awe.
-So, you will start tomorrow. – Said Erik, before pausing and thinking about what he just said. – Do you want to start tomorrow, or at all?
-Off course I do! Said Gus snapping of his trance like state of shock and awe. – Thank you so much mister – He said before hugging Erik and departing for the church's chapel, which is where he expected to find father McKenzie.
Arriving at the church, he was told that McKenzie was no longer primarily performing masses. Instead, he had turned most of his attention to the orphanage and the children, as well as advertising their cause in search of donations. At the orphanage he found the old priest who rushed to embrace him. It was a teary reunion for both of them. Gus laid out his condition for staying, to which the priest agreed, since he had shown he could take care of himself on the streets. The deal was settled and the coming years would be some of the best of his life.
He would be well taught in the orphanage in general matters, but Erik would teach many of the things that most grabbed the interest of a fast-learning Gus: Piano, music theory, French language, architecture, French history, among other things, but of his past he seemed too protective and weary to talk about. However, he often spoke of a woman named Christine, seldom keeping tears away from his eyes while doing so, and never going into too much detail. It was a matter Gus tried to avoid bringing up despite his immense curiosity in his childhood years. He mostly preferred to focus on the present and his passion for music.
It was when he turned fourteen that he performed as a pianist for the first time in front of an audience. It was nerve-wracking, it was certainly not perfect, but it was one of the greatest moments in his life. By that point Erik had found enough trust in the opera manager that the opera started performing his own compositions, garnering a certain amount of prestige, so the house was quite full, at least in comparison to what it usually looks like. As the curtains fell, and he felt for the first time the applause and cheering to something he helped perform, he became certain he had found his place in the world.