Ch.5: Succor
" Miss, are you alright?" A voice swam in her mind like lazy fish in a muddy pond, confused. A douse of water then hit Christine full in the face, and sent her sitting bolt upright. It was incredibly odd, the scenario that was unfolding before her. About twenty sailors had crowded around her, all dropping their burlap sacks full of belongings elsewhere. A coarse jacket was beneath her neck, and another was draped over her freezing body. She was still wearing the red dress. The sailors were speaking in hushed tones, muttering indecipherable messages to each other. When she stirred, they all sighed a collective sigh of relief and began chattering loudly, all trying to ask her questions. Not one succeeded in making sense.
" Let me see her! I know her!" A man pushed his way through the passel of saviors and knelt at Christine's side. She was positive that she had never met him in her life. The anonymous man removed his cap politely. " Pardon me, madame, but I believe you might have heard of me. My name is Darryl, Meg Giry's, erm, friend? I recognized you from Meg's description." She saw a tinge of pink come to his cheeks when he said the word " friend", his red hair nearly flaming. So this was Meg's suitor! Christine nodded her head, too tired to speak. Darryl jammed his cap back on his head. " Is there anywhere you can go, miss?" the question seemed absurd, but it brought tears to her eyes. There was nowhere she could go right now. Before she could shake her head, another voice called out from behind the crowd.
" Get out of the way, you insolent swine! That's my daughter!" Christine scanned the crowd for whoever might have been yelling. Madame Giry shoved three of the men to the side, hitting each with her shopping basket she was carrying. The wilted vegetables spilled out over the dock, rutabagas and carrots amok.
" Christine, what happened?" The girl looked up at her surrogate mother, her blue eyes swimming with tears. Darryl removed his cap again, ever polite. " She fell off the dock miss. Old Russell over there saved her." He jerked his thumb toward a ruddy man, soaked from head to toe but still trying to light a damp cigarette. Madame Giry drew herself to her full height and looked Darryl in the eyes. He actually took a step back.
" And who are you? Her nurse?" The question sounded accusatory rather than inferring. " M-my name is Darryl McDough. You must be Meg's mother." Madame Giry looked positively prepared to burst with vehemence. " Oh, so you must be Meg's friend then. Nice to meet you, boy." Much to Christine's surprise, the elderly woman didn't have anything scathing to say to him. It was so unlike her not to be constantly haughty.
Cecile nodded evenly and then returned to her usual state of constantly barking orders. The sailors looked almost afraid of her. " You, help Christine to my carriage, and you, pick up my vegetables! Don't just stand there like a bunch of morons!" The large men mulled around doing their tasks, watching the women from the corners of their eyes. After all of the vegetables had been gathered and Christine was loaded in her carriage, the man with the cigarette in his mouth came up to the buggy and rapped on the door. " Are you Christine Daae?" He asked, his words slightly slurred. " I once was." Christine answered smartly. Russell leered. " I was on the expedition with your husband, Raoul, Madame. He made himself sick over you. It was either the sweetest thing I've ever seen or the most disgusting. You are lucky to have a man like him." He limped off with these parting words, leaving Christine to her dilemma.
When Madame Giry climbed into the carriage, a steady drizzle was falling. They thanked the sailors again, giving their fond regards to Darryl before the crowd dissolved. The elder Giry looked at Christine quizzically. " Now, tell me what happened, child." No words would come, but a lump rising in her throat brought the whole story rushing back. The whole way home, she cried her heart out on Madame Giry's bosom, feeling more broken than when she had to give up Delight, than when she had said her final goodbye to Erik. This was the closest thing to a mother's comfort she could get, and she was never more thankful for it.
Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but the moon seemed to be getting farther and farther away from him every night, like a dream too big to be fulfilled. Erik was currently sulking on the roof of the opera house amongst the highest spires where even the upkeep was too frightened to go. Delight was sitting in his lap, snoring softly as she chewed sleepily on her thumb. He brought her there every night, just to show her what the world above was like. Alas, he thought it would fascinate her, but she usually fell asleep within minutes, much to his amusement.
It was painful to think about how one day Delight would grow weary of her subterranean existence and want to venture beyond the darkness. He could never follow her. The day this would happen was inevitable, but it was easier to pretend that it would never come. To be left alone again would be much too excruciating, but he knew he couldn't stop her if she wanted to go. Her temper was much too fiery, her spirit much too free. Besides, he loved her too much to keep her against her will. It was an unforgettable lesson he learned with keeping liberated things against their will.
A strange clattering shook the masked man from his half-delirious stupor. He tucked the little girl beneath his arm to go investigate who would be out at such a dreadful hour of the night. Erik hid behind a large stone Pegasus to avoid detection. You could never be too careful with the night crowd. He saw Madame Giry clamber out of the carriage, toting a basket of withered vegetables. The phantom almost turned and left, unimpressed by this phenomenon, but stopped dead when he saw Christine step out of the carriage. She was wrapped in a brown blanket and her eyes were swollen and red from crying. He felt his heart go out to the wretched girl and instantly regretted it. They were never supposed to meet again.
Before she entered the grand foyer of the sleeping opera house, Christine chanced a theory and glanced up at the roof. She choked down a gasp, making a strange gargling noise. Two dark figures were hiding behind a statue. Once she had gasped, they instantly disappeared. She was unsure of whether or not it had been a hallucination, a wishful dream and would probably never know that it was very much real.