CHAPTER RATING: PG13

DISCLAIMER: "Surely He Hath Born Our Griefs" is by Evan Copley, taken from Isaiah 53:4. Also, I trimmed down the passages from Song of Solomon so that they just include the juiciest parts.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before, you've seen religion referred to in a negative context. Here, you'll see that Winifred is faithful as well as her father, but her father is just stuck in that legalism that was the Dark Ages of Catholicism. Winifred is spiritual in the purest since. And I think you'll enjoy my usage of the Bible here... I know I did.

Winifred and Johnathan picked through the music in the compartment hidden in the Bello's piano bench.

"Here's a good one," said Johnathan, pulling out a little paper book. "'Sicut Cervus.'"

Winifred added the music to her bag. "Doesn't your family own any music that's not in Latin?"

"I gave you 'Kyrie.' That's Greek."

"Yes, but 'Kyrie' is the only Greek word in the entire song. The rest is Latin."

"Oh, here's one!" Johnathan cried in triumph, holding up more music. "'Surely He Hath Borne Our Griefs.'"

"Finally. Alright, I think that's all I need."

When Winifred reached the passageway, the gate was open, but the Phantom- Erik- was nowhere to be seen. So she went over to the organ, sat down, retrieved her Bible from her bag and began to read Matthew 5.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

"What are you reading?" came Erik's voice from behind her. He slid beside her on the bench.

"The Sermon on the Mount," Winifred replied.

"What is that?" he asked.

She looked at him, a little surprised. "Don't you ever read the Bible?"

"Oh, no. I tried at one point, but all it seems to be is some distant God giving orders to people. Useless."

"It's not useless," Winifred replied, mildly offended. "There's poetry in this book. Look." She opened to Psalm 23 and read aloud.

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me-"

She stopped. The Phantom seemed unimpressed. "Alright, here. I know you'll like this." She turned to Song of Solomon.

"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.
Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee."

The Phantom slid the Bible in front of him and turned a few pages. He read,

"The joints of thy thighs are like jewels. Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies. How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights! This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes. I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples. And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine"

He slowly pushed the book back over to Winifred, and she picked up where he'd left off.

"It is wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak. I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me. Come, my beloved, let us lodge in the villages. There will I give thee my loves."

Winifred closed the Bible, realizing that she was breathing very hard. She looked up at Erik.

"I stand corrected," he said in a low voice.

Winifred suddenly realized that they were uncomfortably close, and stood quickly. "I brought some music today," she said, placing her Bible in the bag and pulling out "Surely He Hath Borne Our Griefs."

Erik took it and played the first note, and Winifred began.

"Surely, surely
He hath borne our griefs
And carried our sorrows,
Carried our sorrows,
Our sorrows.

He was wounded,
Wounded for our transgressions.
He was bruised for our iniquities

And the chastisement
Of our peace
Was upon-"

"Wait," the Phantom interrupted her. "I thought the purpose of bringing your own music was so that you would not have to sing something depressing."

"This isn't depressing," Winifred said defensively. "It's about Christ giving His life for our sins."

"And you don't think that an innocentman being tortured to death for something he did not do is depressing?"

Winifred sighed, frustrated. "That's not the point of it."

"Anyway, you're ignoring the crescendos and decrescendos."

"What?"

"These markings." He pointed to what looked like little sideways triangles with no ends that were scattered over the staffs. "These mean to make your voice grow louder, these mean to become softer."

"Alright." She sang the first several lines again.

"No, no, no," he said, standing. "You have to feel the music." He came around, stood behind her, and held her close, one hand on her stomach, the other on her upper arm. Then he said with a low voice in her ear, "In a song with this many movements, you have to sing it as if they were pulsations. Move with the music."

Winifred tried to listen, but she was now finding it very hard to concentrate.

Then Erik began to sing. His voice was beautiful. Each time the music grew loud, he would pull her into him, and when it became quiet again, he slowly released her. The combination of such intimate contact and his hot breath on her face made Winifred a little lightheaded.

Then he backed off and said, "Understand?"

"Yes," she replied, voice rather rough. She cleared her throat. "Let's try another song. And that cough doesn't count. I actually needed that one."

He smiled a bit and said, "Alright," and sat back down.

When Winifred was ready to leave, she asked, "Is there another way to get here? I mean, besides the boat? I don't think my arms can take coming over any longer."

"There are other ways," the Phantom replied, "but they are secret."

"Oh, alright," she said, discouraged and maybe even a little insulted. "Goodbye."

She turned to leave, but then stopped and began searching through her bag. "Oh no! I've forgotten my cab fare!"

After she fumbled around for a moment, desperately searching for some spare money, Erik asked, "Do you have a place to keep a horse?"

Winifred stopped looking. "What do you mean?"

"There is a horse in the stables that you may use- it is the only horse there."

"Oh, thank you so much. Yes, I can keep it at a friend's house."

"You can use it every day, if you like. If paying for a cab is too much trouble."

"Yes, it is, actually. My father would start to notice that I am spending more than usual. Thank you very much."

Then the Phantom turned to his organ and began to play as Winifred got into the boat and pushed off.

AUTHOR'S NOTE/RANDOM STORY: The Phantom's teaching methods here- or, Winifred's reaction to them, anyway- were inspired by one of my middle school experiences. One day we had a sub for English class, which, ironically, was the only time we were ever assigned work or taught anything because our current teacher was a last-minute replacement for the one who just stopped showing up to work one day. Anyway, our sub was this really good-looking guy whom all my friends had a crush on. I didn't, though, because I was just too level-headed (coughstubborncough). Well, since our teacher hadn't taught us anything all year, I of course had to ask the sub how to do the grammar work. When I asked, the sub looks me straight (/deeply) in the eyes and provides the example sentence of "Megan is very beautiful." PS, if you didn't pick up on that, my name's Megan. Then he proceeds to explain the grammar. When he finished, he said, "Do you understand?" and I said, "Uh huh," but actually hadn't heard a thing he said after that example sentence.