Chapter 7

Erik"

I echoed softly. How could that have surprised me? The Phantom of the Opera was a well known musical and story, and his name indeed no secret.

Whether that was his real name or not, it was a great progress that he trusted me with his first name. And while I watched him look uncomfortably at the floor, I remembered what I had learned about the old believes on names. To be able to give something a name meant not only consciousness, but also power about the named object, and to know someone's name meant to have power about him.

He had gathered enough self-confidence in himself and enough trust in me to break into my thoughts with a question: "Ms Lubov, can you please tell me what other gallery it is on the right side of the choir? The one under which the door to the cloister is situated?"

"That is the canoness' gallery. We usually attend service from there. You can only get there through the cloister, not straight from the church." I answered, and added: "Would you like to go there too?" when the bell started ringing three o' clock.

I feared to frustrate him when I had to confess: "We can go there later, if you want. But now it is my duty to open the church for visitors during the next three hours."

He did not seem too disappointed, but asked very seriously: "But you won't forget to show me later, will you? And there are two doors you have not opened yet, and if you do not mind, I would like to see the monastery, too."

I bite on my lips to suppress a laughter. "Of course, I will show you everything you want to see around here. . . . Sometimes nobody comes in during all the hours I spend here. Would you like to stay with me? If somebody comes, there are still a lot of hiding-places, and if there are too much people, you can simply slip into the small chapel that leads to the cloister."

At first, he seemed intimidated, but then he asked: "May I sit under the canoness' gallery and read the books about the church?"

"It is much too dark there to read!" I exclaimed, but when I met his eyes which filled with fear again, I admitted: "However, there is a pocket lamp lying in the pew at the door, and you may use it if it still works. But if it is extinguished, no reading in the dark, promise me!"

"I do!" it was very near to a little exclamation, and he took the books quite fast and ran to the pew in a way one could nearly call excited.

There was quite a lot of public that day, due to the good weather. Still, I never heard or saw a special door open or close, though the pocket lamp stayed off most of the time.

When pastor Mainbergk came to take the watch in the church, so that I might go and guide a tourist-tour through the monastery, I asked in astonishment: "Since when do you work in the "open church project"? I thought our abbess would have asked one of the project-members to take that duty while my sisters are all in Hameln?"

"She most surely did, but some are on holiday and others are busy. She begged me on the phone so imploringly this morning, I could not let her down."

"Oh!" I answered "well, now that you have proven how good a soul you are, would you be cross if I asked you even a greater favour?"

"I will do my best to improve your well-being, Ms. Lubov, if you only say it will make you feel better than you looked this morning" he joked while I wondered if I could let the man, who was severely walking impaired, do my job in the monastery so I could stay here with hidden Erik.

"Great! Would you like to take my guide tour through the monastery? It is so warm outside, and although there are a lot of tourists here, they are less stressing than a tour . . ." I pleaded.

He took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment, then, to my great relief said yes and hurried away after I had handed him the necessary keys. Most of the tourists left with him, for the chance of a guided tour through a monastery did attract them.

When the church was empty, I asked into thin air: "Erik! Erik, where are you?"

He appeared at one of the columns that supported our gallery, but did not step into the nave. I hurried to his side while he carefully watched the open doors. I could not overlook the distrust in his eyes.

"Come on boy!" I rushed him "The visitors will be led the same way we have come here, and will probably come into the church through the chapel. You have to hide elsewhere . . . I know. The Nuns' Choir!" I hastily went to the far end of the church and stopped at a corner, where steps led upward, deviating to the right after a few meters, so that the rest of the steps was hidden from view. Handling a key to the boy, I explained: "There is a room behind the door where you can stay. We use it for choir rehearsals before services, perhaps you are interested in the sheet music that is stored there." Had he been frightened and distrusting before, he now silently accepted the key and hurried up the stairs. Turning away, I heard his quiet voice: "Thank you Ms. Lubov, you are very friendly, and I do cause so much trouble for you." He was already upstairs and I was not sure if he did hear my answer: "Erik, you are most welcome!"

The pastor needed much more than the usual time for the tour, and, as I had foreseen, led the visitors back to the church through the cloister and ended the tour there. I laughingly chimed in into the applause that rewarded his labours. He was obviously happy. When the visitors had gone to have a last look on the church or whatever they had in mind to do late in the afternoon, Mr. Mainbergk turned to me and asked: "It is nearly six o' clock now, and what do you think of inviting me to a cup of tea after you have locked up the building? Let's say as a reward for my troubles?"

"Jesus!" I exclaimed - quite at the right place, by the way - and started running towards the Nuns' Choir. "I forgot a key up there, just wait for me, please!" and that was not even a lie.

When I reached the stairs, I saw Erik already standing on the dark steps, but he was fast as the wind when I motioned him up into the room. If he had touched the sheet music there at all, he had been careful not to put anything in the wrong place afterwards.

"I shall wait here until you come back. The time won't be long for me, it is quite interesting here" he quietly stated when I had closed the door - and with that did he show me that he had heard our words down there.

My first impulse was to agree. The parson would be very questioning and worried if I objected to his idea of having tea at my home, for he knew how much I liked a little chat at every time and opportunity.

But my answer was firm and clear: "No. Erik, I want you to think about an offer: Stay here, at my house, in this convent for as long as you wish. I will not betray you or send you away or give your name away to anybody.

"But you must know that I have to follow some rules I cannot break. Obedience to my abbess is one of them. I can not hide you here for a longer time without her knowledge.

Nor can you hope to stay here unnoticed forever, even if we both tried. I am a sociable person and many of my duties afford close contact to many different people.

"Still I will hide you, if you wish, and I will only let in people after having your acceptance.

But the people I live with, the canonesses, and the people I am most close to, like the pastor, must know about you sooner or later. It is not possible to hide a person all alone!"

When he started backing away from me in fear, I feverishly added: "You could even consider, if somebody would want to take you away, if somebody trapped you, to seek asylum in here. Many people use the church's right to offer sanctuary!"

He stood at the wall now, no further retreat possible. Again he was like the frightened bundle, only that he was too paralysed even to crawl into a corner.

Exasperated, I could do nothing but to look at him pleadingly and hope that my words would succeed through all the crusts of fear and distrust into his heart and brain.

"Erik" I whispered " You cannot be always on the run!"

"Julia?" the call came directly from the bottom of the stairs, "everything all right up there?"

"Yes" I shouted back, what made Erik twitch and tremble only more "the key has fallen between all the mess here, I am still searching, just wait, I'll soon be there!" No one could wonder about something falling into the "mess", for our cantoress was known for the mess she always produced.

When I looked to the boy, it was as if he was getting electric shocks, so hard did he tremble and so spastic was his struggle for breath.

If I had only dared to touch him! But I seriously feared to kill him if I laid my hands on him. So I stood there, full of pain at this view. I jerked when suddenly, with a whimper, he put his hands before his face and writhed down, falling to his knees.

That I could no longer stand. But just as I moved towards him, he jumped up, rushing over me to the other side of the room, and stopped there, heavily breathing and staring at me wide eyed. "You offer to let me live in your house?" His voice was high with agitation.

"That can't be! Nobody ever wanted me! Only the doctors . . ." He eyed me suspiciously "are you a doctor? Are you a psychiatrist!"

"No, Erik. I am a teacher."

Long seconds he only stood there, panting, staring to the floor and tried to understand something entirely new and entirely frightening, but somehow positive.

Finally he whispered: "You really offer me to stay at your house - for a while" that came hastily, "and you do not want to cheat me. You are a nun, you are afraid to say a lie." If only he knew! "So maybe I can trust you . . ." he lost himself in thoughts completely new, but only for a moment. Then the boy lifted his head and declared, still shaking with fear, but very firm in his manner: "I shall stay with you a while."

It would have fit into the chaos of the day if the door had opened the same moment to reveal the parson and cause new shock, but Mr. Mainbergk only shouted from downstairs: "Are you sure I can't help you?"

"Yes, I am quite sure" I mumbled, but then I opened the door and said cheerily: "I got it! I am coming."

Turning to Erik, I motioned him to leave the room with me, and I was surprised, for he did come, reluctantly, but without protest. He was still shaking (or again?) but I no longer feared for him to die because of a heart attack.

When I had locked the room, the boy had pressed himself against the wall like a moth, and I was careful not to touch him when I passed him on my way down.

Against my fear did Erik follow me down the stairs.

The patiently waiting pastor was amazed when I joined him followed by a small, black-clad person.

"Erik, may I introduce you to my pastor, Mr. Mainbergk . . . Mr. Mainbergk, this is Erik, he is my guest." I felt extremely uncomfortable, especially when the pastor suppressed his astonishment and smilingly extended a hand towards Erik.

"Hello, Erik, nice to meet you! So you were the cause for the changes in Ms. Lubov's daily routine today? What a pleasant surprise!"

The boy retreated so hastily that he fell over the steps he had just come down.

"Boy!" I exclaimed appalled, but took care not to help him up.

"Are you harmed?" Mr. Mainbergk had dropped his hand and cast a very concerned look at Erik, but had enough presence of mind not to step closer.

"I am all right. I am very sorry, sir." Erik hung down his head.

Before that could get too great an embarrassment, I surrounded the man and proceeded through the nave towards my home, declaring: "I do go home now! I am dearly in need of a big cup of tea. You two come with me, or you have to ask for your tea elsewhere!"

They both came, Erik in wary distance to Mr. Mainbergk and to me, and finally following me in.