Music for the Chapter: Bandenburg Concerto 4 by J.S. Bach
Chapter 4: Unfinished American Woodwork
As he quickly turned the intricate key through the hole and placed another lock atop that one soundlessly, Nadir could hear the sobs of his friend inside.
"Nothing less then the cries of a broken man" he thought as he pocketed the key and made his way to the deck.
Through the twisted passages he had created, through two trap doors, and finally through a sliding wall, Nadir emerged inside of his own room on the third deck below. It was lavishly decorated with large Persian rugs, including a beautiful siberian tiger fur. The entire room was spared no expense for it's owner's equisite tastes. Three mahogany chests were stacked in the corner adorned with carvings, intricate jungle scenes, and were filled with robes and garments from many nations. Most of the garments were of the Eastern styles. A large bed of Acacia wood dominated the center of the space. It was built to fit at least five people comfortably, and was also carved with exotic designs. These designs were cruder and held a Mediterranean style, much like a Greecian temple.
Nadir grinned, the sight always pleased him, but not because of the sheer wealth. No, Nadir was proud of every single object he had collected from his travels across the world. Erik had not given him the chance to explain why he was still alive after their last encounte, and he most likely was not going to ask until he came out of his delusional world revolving around that girl.
"You have changed so much.." Nadir whispered audibly.
Pulling back the ebony chair he had snatched from Thebes, Nadir sat down at a large desk he had purchased in America only a few months ago. He remembered the exact moment so clearly. His mind then slipped back into the memory as his fingers trailed lightly along the lapis lazu inlay on his Egyptian throne.
He had just spent the last half hour haggling with the dealer.
"Ninety Dollars!"
"A hunderd!"
"Ninety five American dollars.. not a cent more.." Nadir stated, staring deeply into the eyes of the craftsman across the table.
The elderly man was haggard from dealing with this foreign man. Though he was smaller then the Persian, despite a lifetime of hard work in the wood carving business, this man with the funny accent was still almost half a size larger. This desk had been one of the craftsman's personal favorites. He had spent a year intricately carving each individual leaflet into the legs and along the edge of this piece. His honed skills had not been spared. The craftsman took the design to be a more baroque feel, and the realistic nature of the carving looked like they could possibly fall away at a touch. And how haughty was this giant brut of a man, to walk in and demanded that specific desk even while he still worked on it. The desk was nearly large enough to be considered a large dining table for two!
"Fine! The table is yours! Just please leave my shop here quick, cause I've got other customers that won't take kindly to yer kind around here.." the craftsman stated and quickly collected his money. Nadir however was unwavered by his statement, and was not offended, as his experience in America had produced similar results.
While awaiting the piece to be completed. Nadir made his way over to one of the smaller taverns across the street. Walking quietly through the door had proven to be a useless task. His appearance had completely silenced any and all conversation that had once filled the establishment. Politely shutting the door behind himself, and walking to a table that was deserted seemed to be nothing less then a side show to a circus. Every single eye was on him, and the entire place seemed to be dead silent except for two gentlemen in the back that were chatting lively. Not wanting any more attention than was necessary, Nadir quickly moved over behind the two gentlemen's table and sat down to wait for the barmaid to come serve him. The activities of the bar slowly resumed, however the two men continued their conversation with little regard to Nadir.
"Why yes, just shot down in plain sight!" the first one stated in a taut British accent.
"By George, these Americans. First they demand to be separated from the crown. Then they fight over their own lands! Now they shoot their own chosen officials down in cold blood! Poor man, Garfield was his name, correct?" the other retorted in an accent just as thick.
"Yes Nigel, but you must remember that he actually would have had a chance of survival.." the second one stated. By now Nadir had taken note to their English accents as opposed to the rough Georgian accents that had bombarded his ears for the few weeks he had landed in America.
"The bullet was lodged somewhere in his body, and unfortunately doctors believed it too close to his spine and would not search for the bullet in fear of killing the poor soul. However there is a brilliant inventor who has created this machine that detects metal. Edison I believe his name is.."
"Really now John, you must refrain from such silly things.." Nigel stated in a sneering tone.
"No! Really! I'm not sure how exactly it works. But anyway, back to the story.. "
A while had passed as he listened to the two Englishmen babble. Nadir had noticed he had not been served or approached and looked up to see that the barmaid was poking out from the kitchen. She seemed afraid of him as her eyes darted back and forth from him to back in the kitchen behind her. The owner of the bar, a large burley man that had been watching him carefully since he had walked in, grabbed the girl and heavily encouraged her with physical force to go to Nadir. The owner had probably assumed that Nadir was rich from his embroidered, foriegn clothing. The girl resisted the large man's orders and refused to go to his table, rushing back into the kitchen. Sighing heavily in annoyance, the owner himself had to approach Nadir.
"Good afternoon sir, what can I get for yerself?"
"Whatever is available now, I'm in a bit of a hurry if you wouldn't mind."
"Of course sir, I'll get right back to ya" the tavern owner quickly walked away and disappeared into the back. Nadir assumed it was the kitchen where the maid had run away to only a few moments before.
"So you are meaning to tell me good sir, that the only reason that 'machine' didn't work is because the metal components of the bed springs on the mattress the doctor laid him out, blocked the detection of the bullet itself in his body? My goodness, was terrible luck!" a bit of laughter came from Nigel as he continued, "that is, if the story were really true."
"Good sir, are you accusing me of lying?" John mentioned lightly.
"Of course I am John! Nothing but fibs comes from those lips of yours, I hardly know what to believe. In fact, what were you telling me about that chandelier incident in Paris?"
"I never lie! They are all true, including that one especially!" John rose his voice defensively. "Remember that grand Chandelier in the Opera we attended in London? .. Oh, what was the name of that confounded theater.."
"The Royal Opera house.." Nigel replied, obviously a little tired of hearing his friend go on, but politely listening.
"Yes! That is it, such a beautiful theater. Such an excellent performance of Otello." he said in a reminiscing tone. "Oh! Pardon, anyway there was this small opera house in Paris where apparently in the middle of the performance the grand Chandelier, not much different from the one in the Royal Opera House, came crashing down!" John's voice seemed to strain from trying to prove his story.
"You cannot be serious John, if that chandelier were anywhere near the size of the one in the Royal Opera House, the cords to hold that up would be thicker than my own arm!" responding to his statement, Nigel raised his arm to prove the width. "That Chandelier weighs at least three quarters of a ton! No Opera would leave such an item to be so ridiculously neglected."
John's mouth rose in a smile, "you must remember we are speaking about the French.."
A snicker came from both the gentlemen.
"Alright, well even if we are speaking of our eternal rivals, no one in their right minds would leave such an item to neglect and rot. French, or not. In fact, is that opera house even old enough for the cords to have possibly rotted or decayed?" Nigel inquired.
"Well, no, the article I had read stated the theater was only three years old. Supposedly one of the finest pieces of architecture at this very moment in France. Many sought after it's architect and creator after it was finished, but apparently the genius disappeared." John almost whispered, making it harder for Nadir to hear.
"Disappeared? Why on earth would you create a beautiful and successful building, and then just drop everything? You would leave other job opportunities behind with such a foolhardy move!" Nigel blared.
"Ow, not so loud. I'm not sure. But yes, the Chandelier fell, killed several people and their Primadonna was also kidnapped that night. They assumed it was actually someone that had been harassing the theater for all three years it had been in production."
"Harassing a theater? Who on earth would want to do that? I know the women are lose in the theater industry, maybe even more so because they are in France." Nigel commented softly.
Once again, both men stop to snicker.
John leaned over even further to his friend, by this time Nadir was interested enough that he too leaned physically in his chair to overhear the last part.
"You see, they would call him 'The Phantom'. Apparently a ghost that haunts the theater. However, by the time this incident occurred and so many deaths were at hand, they searched and found that it was actually a man that lived under the theater!"
Nigel gasped, "no, you can't be serious."
John smiled "Oh, but I am."
"Now why would a man hide under a theater? Wouldn't it have been terribly cold? What sort of man would do this to himself?" Nigel seemed now enthralled with the story.
John leaned back a little, "some said he wasn't even a man. He was actually a monster. A creature they say that hid from the world of light because he could not stand it."
Nigel sneered, "What kind of proof had they of this?".
Bringing his chair back up to the table he leaned over again to his friend and plainly stated. "What kind of man would hide from the light, under an opera house, terrorize it's actors, and wear a mask to cover half of his face?"
Nadir's eyes completely widened as he dropped his fork audibly.
Nigel leaned over equally and stared his friend straight in the eye. "You are right, you know."
"Really? You believe me?" John said with eager eyes.
"Yes" replied Nigel, "this is no man that could have possibly done these things."
"I knew you would come about to my thinking!" John beamed, "what do you think it was? A monster?".
"Well, no" Nigel replied as he leaned over further towards his friend, "something even worse."
John stared at him with apprehensive eyes, "what could possibly be worse?"
"A FRENCHMAN!" Nigel boomed. Both gentlemen at that point, burst out laughing and continued to finger at their food.
Nadir on the other hand took no heed as he abruptly tossed a note on the table and left. Brushing past the tavern keeper as he was walking out with a plate filled with food. Placing the plate down on the table, the owner simply stared out at Nadir in a rage.
"Come to eat and then not even pay for my grub! I'll be certain he'll never eat here again.. in fact" the burley man then rolled up his sleeves and was on his way out the door to pummel the man before his maid stopped him.
"Willy, stop making a fool of yerself! Look!" the maid then shoved a large bill underneath his nose. "We didn't even have to waste the grits ya know! So stop your blubbering and help me get these dishes back." She then proceeded to the other tables that had emptied earlier because of the foreign and unwelcome presence of the Persian. Willy however stuck his dirty finger directly into the grits and promptly stuck the finger back into his mouth. "Mmm, not that bad of a batch today." he smiled as he pocketed the discarded bill for the uneaten meal and continued on his way.
Nadir on the other hand had heard enough and had completely lost his appetite. Even now as he pulled out of the memory and came to his senses in the reality he was in now, he still remembered the shock. Wandering the streets of Atlanta, barely dodging the traffic. Thinking of his old friend in such a terrible state. He had promptly come to his senses after a Horse nearly trampled him, and quickly made his way back to the shop to collect his desk. The craftsman had protested and demanded nearly double the price for not being able to finish his masterpiece. But at this point Nadir had not cared for money at all. He knew exactly what he had to do.
After settling the deal he quickly made his way back to his merchant ship and gave instructions to his crew on board that they were to leave as soon as possible. All preparations were to be done that night and through the next morning. They were to set sail as soon as possible with no regards to anything else. And sure enough, later that morning as the sun was rising, Nadir had been standing on the bow of the ship staring out at the sunrise as his ship proceeded on it's journey to Paris.
These thoughts quickly passed from Nadir's mind as he felt the unfinished surface of his desk. Shrugging himself out of the daydream, he began walking to the galley. His thoughts, however, followed him as he went.
It was true, Erik had been that man terrorizing the small Opera. He indeed was the man that had designed it. He was also the man behind all of the terrible events that Nadir had read about after overhearing that conversation. What happened to him? Though they had parted ways only seven years earlier, what could have possibly changed that man to do such horrible things? Had Erik indeed become a monster?.. Would there be anything that could possibly save him..
Nadir physically reached and brushed his shoulder to indicate to his mind that enough thinking had been done. There was a task at hand, and the mind was not to interfere with it's importance at this moment.
For the reader I must note here, all the events that I have written here that have historical signifigance actually did happen. I will continue research and picking up these little tidbits back and forth. You will soon find that I have quite the interest in the 1880's.