Chapter 2
Two weeks had passed since Christian had been to the Moulin Rouge. Every day he resisted the urge to leave his studies and go there, to search the old room he had found, to be able to get Satine out of his mind. His friends had decided to go to a park for the afternoon and he had agreed to join them after he had finished a few more chapters. But instead of writing he gazed out of his dorm window, thinking of a woman he had never met, knew nothing about, a ghost of the past that wouldn't stop haunting him. Christian shook his head as he stood.
"I better go join them," He mumbled to himself, "I'm certainly not making any progress here." Christian grabbed his notepad and a pen, a bottle of water and a light sweater. It was a nice day, but rain had been forecast. He stepped into the plain white hall and headed for the stairs. Once he had walked down the two flights he went out through the double doors and onto the street. The park he was supposed to go to was to his left, a few blocks away. Christian stood, looking down the sidewalk. He had been to the park before, it wasn't far. But instead of turning left he started walking in the opposite direction. He wandered up the street and turned the corner. Watching the buildings go by, Christian began to whistle. He watched people walk by, some dressed wildly, others with more class. He felt out of place with his jeans and white tee-shirt. He slipped on his grayish blue sweater, somehow feeling like less of a tourist with it on. He had bought the sweater in a second hand store a week ago. The owner said it was an older sweater that had come in with the estate remains of a famous mansion in the heart of Paris. Christian knew he was paying a high end price for a used sweater, Harry had almost killed him when he heard what Christian had paid. There was something familiar about it though. The sweater fit him perfectly, as if it had been tailored for him. Christian turned another corner, unaware of how far or long he had been walking. In front of him was the entrance to Montmartre. He stood, holding his breath for a moment, caught in a type of stillness. How had he gotten so far so quickly? Christian slowly walked forward, knowing his destination now. He stopped in front of the Moulin Rouge and, from across the street, gazed at the front posters and lights. During the day it seemed sad, old and used up. There were still plenty of people going in and out of the dancehall, even for the middle of the day. Christian turned to look up at the building his back had been facing. The Hotel Blanche looked like it had seen better days, still, the second story window intrigued him. Could he see the club better from up there? maybe a better perspective? He walked to the front door and pulled at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. He peered in through the dingy glass only to see a deserted lobby, broken furniture and piles of dust littering the floors. Christian stepped back, looking up at the window.
"I wonder…" he trailed off as he began to move around to the side of the building. There was a fire escape, old and rusty, waiting for him. As he studied the ladder, he noticed a small window towards the top of the building that was open, the curtains softly moving in the wind.
"Well, it's now of never." he thought as he reached for the bottom rung of the ladder and pulled himself up. With a great deal of effort, Christian successfully climbed to the second story of the building. He looked into the window and quietly called out "Hello?" With no answer, Christian slid inside, barely fitting through the small space. He looked around, the sunlight spilling through cracks and dingy windows. He was in a single room, no furniture, only some scrap pieces of paper lying about. He moved towards the door and opened it, creaking loudly, echoing through out the old building. He paused waiting for a voice, accusing him of trespassing. But no sounds came. He moved down the hallway, almost knowing where the room would be. As he approached the last door, Christian froze. He had heard something, he could have sworn it. A soft laugh, or was it a sigh? He reached for the door handle and turned it slowly. The door moved open easily, the room inside was warm with sunlight. He entered, closing the door softly behind him. The room smelled sweet, like perfume and clean sheets. It didn't seem as dusty or as old as the rest of the building. Christian looked at the furniture that sparsely filled the room, an old iron bed frame and mattress, a wooden coat rack, a large bird cage in the corner. He closed his eyes, smiling, breathing deeply the scents, the feeling of the room filling his senses. He must have stood there for several minutes, and might have spent even a few more, if it weren't for the sudden sound outside of the window. Christians eyes snapped open, looking at the old shutters that obstructed his view of the Moulin Rouge. He slowly moved to them, the hair on his arms standing on end. There was a whooshing sound, as if air was being forced to move out of the way of a heavy object. The hum of a motor was also evident, and that laugh again, a sweet feminine laugh. Christian pulled on one of the shutters, opening it and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight that poured though. He blinked rapidly as he stepped out onto the terrace. In front of him, across the street, was the Moulin Rouge. Only it wasn't right, it was different. No longer sad and old, but new, vibrant. Christian looked down into the street only to see a horse drawn carriage rolling over the cobblestones. A woman was standing on the sidewalk outside of the Moulin Rouge, dressed in a long blue satin dress, her red hair intricately spiraled on top of her head. She looked as if she had stepped out of an old movie. Christian just stood, dumbfounded at the sight below. This couldn't be real, he must have fallen and hit his head, something was wrong with this scene. The woman was laughing as she looked at a poster that was being placed on the side of the dancehall. The poster was full of bright colors and in the middle was the woman, on a swing. Christians eyes widened. It was the same poster he had seen while in the room of the Moulin Rouge. Along side her was a tall skinny man, dressed in a sharp gray suit, seeming very pleased with the effect the poster was having on the young woman.
"I told you my dear. You are going to be a world famous actress." the man's shrill nasal voice bounced up from the street below.
"My dear Duke, I shall never doubt you again!" The woman chuckled as she took his arm.
"I'll hold you to that Satine." The man spoke, patting her hand and walking into the Moulin Rouge with her. Christian watched them disappear into the building as the name the man spoke sank in.
"Satine. He called her Satine…no, this is not…" Christian gasped as he finally looked over the entire Moulin Rouge. The two buildings on either side were completely different, one even looked like some medieval castle! He could see the two of them now, walking into a courtyard area, and stopping at the base of…an elephant?
"Ok, wake up Christian, this is a dream…" he spoke to himself, stepping back, out of the window into the room. He closed his eyes and turned around.
"Wake up, wake up!" Christian opened his eyes, and he saw the same old bed, the same coat rack, even the bird cage. Slowly he turned to look at the window. His eyes grew wide as he moved backwards, towards the door. The shutters were closed, there was no sound of a turning windmill a laughing woman. Christian left the room, still in shock. He exited the building the same way he entered. He walked out to the street and looked at the present Moulin Rouge. There was no poster of Satine on the building, no horse drawn carriages. Christian looked up at the window he had just been gazing out of. For a moment, as the sun shined in his eyes he thought he had seen a flash of blue satin. He turned and hailed a cab, anxious to leave, but knowing that he would return soon.
Christian didn't sleep that night. The vivid picture of Satine outside the Moulin Rouge kept him up. He laid on his back, playing the moment over and over in his mind, looking for differences with every run-through, some sign that it was a very elaborate trick. But it was the same, every time, and very familiar in an odd way. Her sweet laugh, the red shine of her hair, how she moved, walked, her clothes, all of it was intoxicating for Christian. He sighed loudly and rolled onto his side. He was falling for a dream, a picture of the past. He had no rational way to explain what had happened. When he had returned to the dorm building his friends were waiting for him, ready with accusations and worry, questions and teasing.
"Did you finally let yourself go?" Harry asked him as they walked to have supper at a neighborhood restaurant. "Did you find a sweet French girl to…" Tal cut Harry short with a rough shove on his arm.
"Leave Chris alone. He's writing another masterpiece of a play. He doesn't have to explain his methods to you." Tal walked ahead catching up with Nina and Rick. Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at Christian.
"You'd tell me right? I mean if you did find someone and go off…you'd tell me…" Harry nudged Christian as he chuckled.
"Nope. Gentlemen don't kiss and tell Harry." Christian chuckled as he saw the scowl come over Harry's face.
"Well said!" Nina shot back over her shoulder, winking at Christian. They all laughed as Harry pouted. Dinner came and went. Christian didn't really have time to reflect on what had happened, it had almost seemed like a day-dream, until now. Now he had time to think about it, all night in fact. He had gone over every possibility, a day-dream, a trick, a very quick shoot for a movie, time travel. Out of all the far out excuses his brain could produce, time travel was actually the one that made the most sense to him. When the first rays of the sun peeked through the window, Christian was up. Since it was Saturday, he'd have the whole day to do some research on the Moulin Rouge, Paris at the turn of the century, and of course, Satine. Quietly he slipped out of the building and headed for the library.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christian walked down the dark street towards his dorm building. He had spent the whole day looking through newspaper files and old books. He had been able to translate some of the articles but most of the translation came from the librarians. He had learned more about the Moulin Rouge than he thought he'd ever want to know. The aspirations of turning into a good theater, not just a dancehall for the creatures of the night, the fire that destroyed the gothic tower, but most importantly Christian had read more about 'The Sparkling Diamond' Satine. She had been a showgirl turned actress when the Moulin Rouge had been in the process of changing into a theater. There was funding by a rich Duke who was in love with the girl. He apparently gave her many things, money, jewels, all of which she saved. Christian had found many articles on the shows that Satine performed in, some even included pictures of the actress. Then the fire happened. The Moulin Rouge lost it's gothic tower. There was a heroic young man who saved the life of the actress and several others but no mention of his name or any further involvement of him during the rebuilding process. The Duke was never mentioned in any other articles either.
Christian climbed the stairs with a tired pace. He entered his room and turned on the small light by his bed. Feeling too tired to even change out of his clothes, he lay down on his bed, kicking off his shoes at least. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gray piece of newspaper. He had felt bad about taking it, he had even rationalized his action by telling himself he would return it. He opened up the folded paper to reveal her face. Her eyes sparkled in the picture advertising the last play she would have participated in at the Moulin Rouge. Her hair was long and soft around her shoulders, she wore a head piece that must have sparkled in the light. The play took place the night of the fire. Christian stared at the picture, enraptured by the shape of her face, the curve of her lips. He smiled back at her, wondering why he felt so close to someone he had never even knew existed before arriving in Paris. As he had read earlier, she eventually somehow made her way out of the acting lifestyle and bought a large mansion where she allowed homeless children and women to stay. There were fewer pictures of her in the articles that followed her through out her life. She was given funding and donations from many wealthy Parisians so her house could remain open. She began a small school for children, and helped children's hospitals with funding. She never married and lived till she was 92, dying in her sleep, peacefully. Her obituary was short but the article on her funeral took up the entire front of the society page.
"Who were you?" Christian sighed as he stared at her picture. He placed the picture on the floor by his bed. "I gotta think about something else…" He reached under his bed to where his pile of books were stored. He had brought only his favorites to read, but kept them hidden so that he would always have them, not wanting to loan them out. His fingers brushed over the spine of one, the cover of another, until he found one that felt right and pulled it out. He laid back on his bed and looked at the book.
"I didn't bring this one with me…" His voice trailed off as he read the title. "The time travel theory and it's moral issues. I could've sworn I sold this book back after the end of the semester." He shrugged and opened the book to a random chapter. "Time travel can therefore be possible if the mind believes what it is seeing as truth. Without convincing the brain that it is possible time travel cannot be successful." Christian read until his eyes were too heavy to keep open. He fell asleep with his light still on, the book on his chest slowly rising up and down with each breath.
"Christian…come on silly wake up…It's almost time to go and you decide to take a nap?" A soft voice called him from sleep, a warm hand slid down his cheek.
"Christian…my love…wake up." Christian smiled and slowly opened his eyes. Satine was sitting before him, her eyes looking into his. She giggled and leaned down, kissing his lips. He responded by kissing her back, feeling like it had happened a thousand times before. His hands moved to hold her, sliding up her back, playing with her hair. The kiss deepened, her scent filled his lungs and he never wanted to let go, never wanted to wake up. She was the one to release him and sit up.
"You keep kissing me like that and we'll miss opening night." She told him breathlessly.
"Wouldn't bother me." He answered, unsure of his voice. He knew he was dreaming, but it all felt so real. She chuckled and poked him on his side playfully.
"There will be plenty of time for that later, after the show. We have the rest of our lives together now." She stood and moved away from the bed. He felt an ache in his chest, he wanted her to be close by forever, even a small distance seemed too much. As she moved away she started to fade, the rest of the room was in a fog, he couldn't tell where he was. He fought for something to say, anything to bring her back to him.
"Come back and lie down for a few minutes. you'll feel refreshed after a 10 minute nap." He smiled at her, patting the a spot next to him on the bed. She turned, a seductive smile on her face.
"This sounds like a trap…" She chuckled as she slowly walked back to the bed. He moved over to the far side of the bed.
"I'll be good, I promise." She sighed and rolled her eyes, still smiling at him. Satine sat down on the bed and laid back, lifting her legs onto the bed, the long gathering of her skirt spilling off the side.
"Only 10 minutes, then we have to get ready." She turned to look at him. He nodded his head and pretended to go to sleep, snoring softly. He felt her move closer to him, the heat from her skin warming him. She drew her fingers over his forehead, brushing away a stray lock of hair. Her fingers slid down his face and over his lips.
"Sleep quickly my love, then come back to me."
The sound of Christians alarm clock woke him as he sat up, startled in his own bed. It had only been a dream, but he could still smell the scent of her perfume. The warmth of her lips still lingered on his. He turned to shut off the blaring alarm and moved his legs off the bed. His feet touched the book that he had been reading before he had fallen asleep. He reached down for the book and saw Satine's picture still lying on the floor where he had placed it the night before. He smiled as he remembered her voice from the dream, it's soft tones folding over him. A knock on his door woke him from his remembrance and he picked up the book, placing it on the nightstand as he walked to the door. Nina was on the other side, looking furious.
"What the HELL is you problem?!?" She loudly accused him as she moved past him into his room. "You've been so out of it since we got here! First you go to that stupid club with Harry instead of going to the Eiffel tower with us. Then you skip our day in the park and now you blow us all off to spend the day in the Library?!?" She was starting to turn a deep shade of pink and her voice was getting louder by the minute. "I know that you and I aren't the closest of friends but I tolerate all of you cause Rick has known you all for so long. He was really looking forward to going on the countryside tour with ALL of us yesterday, and who decided not to grace us with his presence??" She took a deep breath and turned away from Christian. He still stood in the open doorway, shocked at the onslaught of anger. He slowly closed his door and moved towards Nina.
"All I can say is sorry. I didn't go to the Tower with you and Rick cause I thought you wanted it that way. The day in the park was just a mistake, I got lost and…"
"Lost?" She interrupted him, "Lost?? We've all been to the park before Christian, it's only two blocks away! And what about yesterday? My neighbor in the dorm said that she saw go to the library early in the morning. Is that where you spent the whole day?" Her voice was softer now but still angry.
"Yes, it's research for my new play. I'm really on track here. I want to keep the creative juices flowing you know…" He chuckled trying to make the situation lighter. Nina turned and looked at Christian, angry tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.
"Rick thinks you're brilliant you know, he is always going on about how creative you are, what a genius. Did you know that he has tried out to be in all of your plays? And not once have they picked him for even a bit part. He knows he's not an actor but he just wants to be apart of your productions. He really looks up to you, and you don't even know it. It's hard to compete." She wiped away a loose tear that rolled down her cheek. Christian was shocked at her words. Rick thought that he was a genius? In what parallel universe? Rick had never wanted anything to do with is plays. Christian had to beg him to see them, and then never, even if Christian asked, would he get a review from Rick. Nina had moved over to the door and was about to leave.
"I love him, and I'd do anything for him, but if you tell him I was here I'll…" Her words trailed off. "Were all having lunch at a new café today, here's the address." She threw a crumpled piece of paper at Christian as she left, leaving the door open behind her. Christian bent down and picked up the paper, smoothing it out as best he could. The address was for a small café in the heart of Monmartre.