The Phantom's Cat
This story, a work of fiction, is based on characters created by Gaston Leroux, in his book, "The Phantom of the Opera". It's also based upon two felines of my acquaintance, onemale and female, that hadboth lost their right eyes as kittens. Some people, even in today's society, consider such animals as expendable. I have found them to be very loving creatures, and the furthest thing from disabled as well. This story is my own answer to many Phantom Phans question 'What would things have been like, had Erik had a cat."
Introduction
My name is Jean-Luc, a member of the species felinus domesticus, also known as the house cat. In my case, however, I didn't live in a house, but under the Opera Populaire in Paris, France. My person was known by many names, including the Opera Ghost and the Phantom of the Opera. He was also known by some not so nice names, such as "monster" and "beast". This last one always intrigued me, as my person had two feet and hands, and he spoke words like other men. Yet Man shunned him, much as they did me, because he was not physically whole. That is why we shared a special bond, because, I too, was not physically whole.
This is the story I want to share with you, as to how I became The Phantom's Cat.
Meeting My Human
The night I met and was rescued by my person was a dark, cold, and wet night. Mother, the siblings, and I had been curled up in a box, not the best of homes, but better than a bush or shrub or alley. Unfortunately, some mean kids found our hideaway, and we all scampered away, but I was too slow, because of being able to see only out of one eye. My right eye was swollen and hurt, and the slightest movement compounded the pain. Mother tried carrying me, but the kids roughly snatched me, and started tossing me around, back and forth to each other, laughing at her piteous cries to release me. It was the last time I would ever see my family.
The gang of kids, teenagers is what they're called, were dressed in rags. They were dirty, and their smell was offensive to my sensitive little nose; they made me gag. They laughed at my cries for my mother and freedom, not caring how uncomfortably they carried me. Instead of supporting my back paws, they kept tossing me around like some kind of fur covered ball. I mewed in pain and fear, and even hissed and scratched to try to get away, but it was fruitless. They slapped me with their fists for my efforts and they held on to me with grips of iron, these two footed giants. My predicament amused them and they made ghastly comments about me. Somehow, I knew that my hours were numbered.
"Grab some rocks, Andre! We'll stone this devil's cat with it's bulging eye, and put it out of its' misery!" yelled one of them.
Suddenly, the raucous cries of the boys stopped, and I prepared myself for Death. A voice came out of the darkness, a quiet voice, menacing and authorative, rumbled "What are you doing to that poor animal? It's smaller and weaker than you! What cowards to pick en masse upon a defenseless creature! Hand him over now, and begone with you, before I give you a taste of those rocks!"
The boy holding me acted for a moment like he was going to put up a fight, but he seemed to change his mind, and dropped me in a puddle of water, where I lay face down, willing Mother Nature to release me from my torment. I heard the gang scampering away, and breathed a watery sign of relief at the idea of deliverance.
But my relief was short lived and deliverance was not to come. Gentle hands lifted me into the air, and I was wrapped in a dry cloth, warm from the human's body where it had rested close to his heart in his breast pocket. Despite my fear, my purr began to rumble, and I sniffed the air of the person cradling me in his arm, one hand vigorously rubbing the circulation back into my chilled body. He smelled different from any human I had encountered in my young life: His scent was one of kindness, but also of an infinite sadness and loneliness. I felt safe and secure with him, even more so than I had been with Mother.
"It's all right, little one, " the man said, his voice a deep, rich tenor. "Let's take a look at you."
He held me a little closer to his face, part of which was covered by something white. One eye was a deep dark color, I don't know how to describe it, as cats see color differently from humans. The other was harder to tell behind the covering of his face. They were kind eyes, but also very sad eyes. He looked closely at me, and smiled slightly. "Ah, we are kindred souls," he whispered, stroking my now dry fur. "Let's see if we can do something about that eye".
He swiftly but gently carried me along in his arm, tucked within his cape for warmth and protection from the rain. Soon, I was being examined by a kindly doctor who the man seemed to trust, so I tried to be calm and relax. The doctor was not pleased with the appearance of my eye.
"That eye is not good, Erik. It is basically dead tissue, and it's a wonder the kitten isn't filled with infection," the doctor gently stroked my fur as he spoke.
"Can you remove the eye?"
"I've never done so on an animal. But, I can try."
"See to it. You will be well paid for your work."
"What about after the surgery? This animal is obviously a stray. It'd be more of a kindness to put him to sleep than to allow him to wander about the streets with only one eye!"
"He's not a stray. He and I share the same….affliction. We will take care of each other." There was a bit of grim humor in the man's -Erik's-voice as he said that.
"Very well. I suppose you want me to get right to work?"
"Of course, Doctor. When shall I pick him up?"
"Tomorrow night. Early, if you would be so kind."
The man - my person - Erik - stroked my fur and ruffled my ears very gently. "You'll be all right. You're safe, and by this time tomorrow night, you won't be in so much pain." He then turned and left the room.
The doctor continued stroking me and assuring me, then he placed a cloth of a strong scent in front of my nose. He held it a bit away, but the odor was strong and powerful. Before long, I was asleep. When I awoke hours later, my eye hurt still hurt. I tried to open it, but it wouldn't obey. My other eye opened after some effort, but everything was fuzzy. I tried to stand and fell back on my side. I cried out in fear.
"It's OK, little fella. It's all over. You're fine, just woozy from the medicine." He put another cloth in front of my face, and I hissed instinctively, thinking it was more of that nasty smelling stuff that put me to sleep. It didn't have a smell, but it was wet. I licked, and it tasted like water. I started to suck, and it was water! The coolest, cleanest water I'd ever tasted, despite the cloth. He kept giving me water in this manner, probably so I wouldn't get sick, because sometimes my tummy threatened to send the water back up, and he would take the cloth away for a bit. The effort exhausted me, and I went back to sleep.
More hours later, I awoke again, and the room was quiet. The doctor was nowhere in the room. I was laying in a basket filled with warm scraps of cloth, and a dish of dry kibble was in front of my basket, along with a dish of water. My one eye was seeing normally, but the other eye stayed shut. I've been used to not seeing out of it, so I didn't worry. It didn't hurt as much as it had, but it was tender. I couldn't touch it, as the doctor had put a small piece of cardbroad around my neck to keep me from pawing at my face.
Fortunately, the paper didn't keep me from eating, and I ate a few bites of food, and drank my fill. Part of me wanted to explore, but I was still pretty tired. I missed my family, but I felt safe, warm, and happy for the first time in a long time. I slept again, my kitten mind recalling how my person said we were kindred souls. I dreamed of what my life would be with him. I now had a person to protect me. If only my family could share my good fortune. A small, sad "mew" escaped me, and I settled back down to sleep, my person's kerchief that had covered me was in the box, and I snuggled into it for comfort, for it held his scent.
"He's going to be OK, the operation wasn't as difficult as I anticipated," the doctor said to my new person, Erik, who'd come to see me that evening. "He's a hungry little thing. He's also had a pretty hard life, he's thin, which is to be expected" The doctor glanced wryly at his patron. "I never thought of you as an animal lover. Considering all your other talents, it shouldn't surprise me, though. It'll do you some good to have another friend."
"When can he travel?"
"He can go home with you tonight, provided you have things a cat will need? A place to sleep, food, and of course, an outlet to - uh - "
"Yes, " Erik replied, a bit of amusement tugging at his visible lip. "I've taken all that into consideration, my friend. He won't want for anything. Except, perhaps, sunlight."
"Hmmm. I don't know how cats will react to little or no sunlight. You see them lying in the sun so often. You might want to consider letting him have some fun in the sun from time to time. In the meantime, watch his eye for signs of drainage, and bring him back to me in two weeks to check his stitches."
Erik reached out a gentle hand to scratch behind my ears. I rewarded his caress with a loud purr, and instinctively licked his hand. He didn't back away from me and seemed pleased at my attention.
"OK, Jean-Luc, time for you to come to your new home." He picked me up, wrapped me in the cloths I'd slept in, and then wrapped me in part of his cloak. I was warm, and safe, and I was going someplace called "home."
The Phantom's Lair
My person, Erik, took me to his home, and what a place it was! A vast dwelling, with it's own lake (which I was later to learn boasted a few blind fish)! He had lots of wonderful things to explore, and once my stitches were gone and that blasted paper collar off my neck, I earned my keep not only by chasing off the occasional rat that found it's way into our home, but also by giving companionship to my person. He became my world. Not only because he fed me (which he did a good job of doing), but because he gave me love.
The first night he brought me home, he placed me in a basket in his bedroom. He removed the covering from the left side of his face, but kept his face from me. I investigated my new surroundings, all kinds of interesting smells, and none of them unpleasant. He kept the door open for me to the bedroom, and placed me in this wooden box, filled with sand. It didn't take long to show Erik that I knew what this was for; my mother had taught us how to eliminate properly and to bury, as well.
My first meal with Erik was pate de fois grais. It was very good, and very rich. I purred a thank you for such a sumptious meal.
"Don't get to expecting this every day, my friend," he murmured in response to my happy song. "That kind of thing isn't good for you every day. But, tonight, we celebrate!" He was still keeping his face turned from me, and I reached out my paw to his face, touching the right side that he kept turned to me. My claws were sheathed, I just wanted him to truly look at me. Was I that awful looking to him? Why wouldn't he look directly at me?
"Mew?"
"No, you are NOT ugly, little friend," he seemed to know exactly what I was asking! Many humans don't understand cats – or any other animal for that matter. But Erik genuinely understood me! "Believe me, I know what ugly is, and you are not ugly. Your little face is flawed, but your heart is not. I just don't want to frighten you with my ugliness."
Hmmpf! Ugly? Him? But he saved me from Death! What is a face but a covering? Humans didn't have fur, of course, but the same logic applied as far as I was concerned. It's not the color or style of your fur, but what you are within the fur that counts most. But, my person felt unhappy about showing me his pelt, and I had to respect his feelings. At least for the moment.
I hopped into his lap, purring and kneading his chest, rubbing my whiskers against the right side of his face, the side he kept turned to me.
"I'm glad you're happy, little friend. You'll always be safe here with me. No one will ever harm you again." He petted my head, being careful about my eye, then stroked my fur; which was still matted and dirty.
Without a word, he pulled out a brush and began to gently groom my fur, working carefully on the matted areas to smooth them. Oh, it felt so good! I purred louder and arched my back and enjoyed the feeling. It felt so GOOD!
"Ah, you really like this!" Erik smiled, brushing my fur until it lay silky, shiny, and clean along my body. I felt much improved, and reached my whiskers up to his face, that perfect right side he put to me, and I licked his face. It felt smooth and rough at the same time.
"Would you like to hear some of the music of the night I compose, little friend?"
I purred in assent, anything my person wanted to do was fine with me. He stood up, set me in the chair, and walked to the pump organ. The music he played sounded better than any bird song or wind chorus of nature I'd ever heard.
I hopped down from the chair, and leapt to the wide bench, curling up next to him, my head resting on his leg. I was careful not to get in the way of his feet as they operated the big pedals underneath his hands. Softly, my purr added to his music, and he seemed pleased, reaching down a few times to stroke me.
Full of belly, and replete with happiness, I soon drifted off to sleep. Such was my first evening in the Phantom's lair.
The following days were much the same for that first week or so. Erik would spend a lot of time with me, and he would play and compose all kinds of music. Sometimes I wouldn't like a particular tune, and would let him know by poking his arm or leg, and then making a burying gesture. He would laugh, and pet my head or my back, and go back about his business, sometimes, however, he would change the tune to one more to my liking.
I often explored my new home, and learned that there were some places I shouldn't go, mainly because of all the candles; a few occurrences of singed fur and whiskers were enough to teach that lesson!
I also learned, much to my dismay, that violin bows are NOT cat toys. My person was pretty upset and yelled at me for pawing at the bow as he moved it back and forth along his chest and shoulder. I pounced, and landed right on the wooden thing with strings on it. The thing fell with a crash; I fell with a thump; and he yelled, very loudly! I scampered away and hid, because he was so angry.
Eventually, I succumbed to his pleas to come out from my hiding place, but I was still afraid. Every other time people raised their voices at me, I wouldget hit and injured. Even though Erik had been nothing but kind and gentle with me, loud sounds would always remind me of the past, and I always hid, no matter how nicely I've been treated.
"I'm sorry, little man," he murmured to me, once I timidly approached him. He held out his hand, softly calling me to him, not moving a muscle as I cautiously approached. I sniffed the air, he didn't give off a dangerous smell, so I brushed his hand with my whiskers.
He didn't grab me, or hit me. He just kept his hand out to me, letting me "feel" his love and regret. When I rubbed my head against his hand, he picked me up, and we apologized to each other. I never made that mistake again!
There were times when my person would be gone from the lair, and I was left to amuse myself. Some days I slept for hours, other days I wandered about the lair, playing with anything that looked like a safe toy. Sometimes I fished in the water. The sightless fish were still very quick, and I sometimes got very wet learning how to catch them. Keep in mind, catching the fish was not a have to thing for me. It was sport, and fun, and made for a tasty snack when Erik was away.
My eye socket healed quickly, and I didn't get sick from its' removal. It was a relief not to be have all that pain in my head any longer, and I really didn't miss the eyeball at all. Even though my heart still ached for my family, I was happy, and healthy, and as time passed, my heartache eased.
The time came for me to return to the kind doctor to be checked out. Since I felt safe with my person carrying me, he didn't feel it was necessary to put me in a cage or box. I snuggled in the crook of his arm under his cape as he walked to our destination.
The doctor was very pleased at my progress. The eye was healing well, and he allowed Erik to take that paper collar, now a bit the worse for wear, off my neck. The stitches weren't ready to be removed; it was going to take a little more time for my eye to permanently close over.
"Unless you'd like a glass eye put in the socket, to makehim look . . ."
"Normal?" Erik finished when the doctor realized what he was saying and turned ashen of face. "No, I don't think Jean-Luc would like that. He's grown used to being without an eye, and to have to make him get used to a fake ornament just doesn't seem fair. Especially since it wouldn't serve the purpose of a real eye."
"I apologize, friend. I didn't --"
"You were just thinking like a healer. No offense taken."
The doctor was pleased that I was no longer bone thin and scraggly looking, and pronounced me a most improved kitty. I rewarded his observations with a head butt against his hand. Then we went back home.
Erik did take me out with him during the day, so I could enjoy the sun; though he stuck mostly to the shadows. Strange people still scared me, so I never ventured far from him. I was content to play with the sunbeams for a bit, and roll in the dirt, or chase the occasional bird or rat, but never felt the urge to explore, at least not outside.
It's What Lies Beneath the Pelt That Matters
Cats, as you know, are curious, and sometimes I DID want to know what was going on outside our lair. With that blasted tattle tail paper collar off my neck, I was better able to slip around and explore things to my hearts content, and sometimes, while Erik was out on business, I would roam beyond the lair to get to know more about my underground world.
Besides the water area where the organ and other instruments were, there were all kinds of caves. Some were vacant and musty. Others were set up like rooms; there was one bedroom with a black bed made like a bird. I heard Erik call it a swan, and it had satiny sheets on it. There was a music box that would play a little tune if I touched it just right. The monkey sitting on top would play little cymbals as the music played. I knew it wasn't a toy, but it was intriguing to watch.
My person's room was dark colored, and he slept in a very strange bed. Most beds, like the swan bed, were beds with comfy cushioning. His bed had high sides and a door on top! The door was never lowered when he was in it, but I didn't like the door, because it might fall and trap me, so any exploring I did in his room was when he was present!
The possibility of that top falling on me was one reason I didn't sleep with my person, though I really wanted to do so. Plus, I was still worried over his continued refusal to let me "see" his entire face. He still kept the part of his face that he covered turned away from me when it was uncovered. He proclaimed me a handsome kitty, and so did the doctor, and the doctor would look full face at me, so why not my person? Maybe the doctor was being kind, and my person was just too disgusted by my appearance to show it.
Eventually, a time came when my fear of the lid of the bed was overcome by my need to comfort and be comforted by my person, and this worry was lifted from my person.
One night, long after the paper collar was removed, my person was sound asleep but kept moaning and crying and thrashing about. It woke me from a sound sleep in my basket in his room. I'd never heard anything so disturbing in my young life. He was crying in his sleep, and he sounded very lonely and upset.
That damn lid scared me, but so did his cries and his movements. I needed to be with my person, but how?
I leaped onto the side of the "bed", and balanced on the thin ledge, watching him. For the first time, I could finally see his entire face. The side he had kept from me all this time wasn't as nice looking as the side he'd kept turned to me, but it wasn't unsightly to me, either. When you've lived the live of a stray, you see some pretty ghastly sights, and some even more ghastly than the markings on my person. I was later to learn that you humans tended to consider him quite frightening when unmasked, but it didn't matter to me.
He cried out again, and bent his body as if he were warding off a blow. Tears were running down his face, and I made up my mind right then and there. To hell with the damn lid. If it falls on me, it falls! At least I'll be with my person, and he'll keep me safe.
I quietly jumped down from the ledge to land next to him. It was a bit of a squeeze, as the box wasn't shaped like the swan bed, and he obviously had no fear of the lid falling on top of him. But, anywhere my nose could go, I could go, and I walked softly to his chest and sniffed.
There was no smell of danger, which was a relief, as I wasn't sure of my ability to fight off whatever was causing him hurt in such close confines. He smelled sad, and lonely, and very upset. I curled up on his chest, and began to purr a comforting song to him. I pushed my face forward, and starting licking the tears from his face, being very careful and gentle on the damaged parts, so that I wouldn't hurt him.
As I continued to purr and wash my person, his eyes opened, and he looked surprised and shocked to see me so close to him. He lifted his hand to the left side of his face, and I watched warily, but didn't dare move a muscle to flee. I gave a cautious sniff, but sensed no danger to me. He was surprised, and even pleased to see me next to him.
"Guess I was having a bad dream," he murmured. scratching my ears. "And you heard me and came to comfort me?"
"Meowr" came my reply.
"What a brave boy you are, then! I know you're afraid of my coffin and the lid, which is why I never expected you to sleep here. And you're not disgusted with my appearance?"
If I could have done so, I'd have rolled my eyes in exasperation. All this time, I thought he couldn't stand to look at me, and he thought I would find him ugly instead? Humans! I snorted.
He laughed at my reaction. "So, you think I'm silly, don't you? But you're not a human, you don't have it in you to lie or make fun of someone like me. They do so, which is why I've learned to keep my flawed side out of view. Guess it was just so ingrained that it's second nature."
I moved closer to his face, and placed my velveted paw against his flawed side. "Mew." Then I purred encouragingly.
He stroked me for awhile, and his breathing slowed down a bit. "Tomorrow, the lid comes off this thing; and perhaps, later, I'll try a normal bed so you'll be less intimidated. Maybe I can try being like a person for awhile, if it will make you happy."
I moved to his side, and nudged his arm, his lifted it a bit, and I curled up at his side, his arm coming to rest around me. We fell asleep that way, with me purring a sleepy song to him until we both fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next day, true to his word, the lid of the box was gone, and later, he brought a regular bed into his room for us to sleep in.
As I grew from kittenhood, and became more companion and friend than pet to Erik, my days and nights became fulfilling and adventurous; especially when I increased my roaming beyond the confines of our lair.
Explorations
Being a black cat enables me to blend with the shadows even better than my person, who has to rely on black clothing to blend in. If I close my eyes, no one can tell where I am! As a result, I grew more adventurous in my wanderings, and often took off exploring the labyrinths and passages that surrounded us.
Once, after we'd been together for a year, my curiousity got the better of me, and I decided it was time to find out where my person was going when he took the boat from the lair. So, one morning after breakfast, as Erik was preparing to leave, I hid in the darkest corner of the boat in order to accompany him on his travel, and see more of the scenery. I'd watched him handle the boat many times,as we had traveled in it for my outings in the sun and to the doctor. I knew exactly where he stood and where to stay hidden so he wouldn't see me. He had cat sight; the ability to see well in the dark, and his eyes often glowed like a cat's in the dark, so I knew stealth was an essential part of my plan.
Once settled in my hiding place, I closed my eyes to better blend in with the shadow, but didn't go to sleep. Soon, I felt the boat begin to glide and felt the weight of my person make the boat sink into the water just a bit. Soundlessly, we glided along the water until I felt the boat bump against something. I waited until the boat lifted, indicating my person was out of it, and opened my eyes.
The boat was tied to a landing, and my person was going up a flight of stairs, carrying a torch in front of him. Unusual for someone who can see in the dark as well as me, but you humans are funny like that sometimes.
I leaped out of the boat and swiftly followed my person, keeping to the shadows and padding soundlessly behind him, always being sure to keep him in sight and smell; I certainly didn't want to be left behind when he went back to the lair! I paid no attention to the surprised squeals from the resident rats that fled in terror from me. Rats were not on my mind this time, my belly was full, and I was more curious about my person to bother with the four footed, bewhiskered rodents today!
My person continued walking, right past the door that led to our alley, until he came to a door high above the alley way. I moved a little closer, as I could hear his voice, and wondered who he was talking to, as I'd done nothing to make my presence known to him.
"Are you ready for our lesson, child?" I heard him say.
My tail couldn't help but puff a bit when I heard the wall reply that it was ready. I heard a female voice, a little higher in pitch but not unpleasant, issuing from the wall! Since when do walls talk? I sniffed the air, didn't smell any danger, so I crept a little closer.
There was a bit of light coming into the passageway from an opening that was even with my person's head. He was gazing intently into that opening, and it was into that opening that he was speaking, and the female voice came from it.
My tail fur relaxed, as did the rest of me, as I listened to him instruct the female voice in singing. She had a nice voice, it didn't warble and vibrate like some of the other voices we'd hear when he had taken me with him to listen to the opera. One singer had a very bad vibration in her voice, it really made my fur ruffle; though everyone acted like she was the greatest thing in the building. My opinion was that I wanted to bury her noises in my litter box. Phew!
But this voice was pleasant, and sometimes Erik would sing with her, pausing the singing every once in awhile to make a suggestion here or a comment there. Sometimes his voice held that hypnotic quality I liked so well, and it made me a little jealous to think that he used that voice on others. But, humans, like felines, sometimes need other human voices for companionship, so I tried hard to stifle my jealousy, but it wasn't easy.
All too soon, the lesson was over, and I heard my person prepare to leave the passageway. Moving as soundlessly as I'd come, I raced back to the boat and settled into my hidey-hole, waiting for his return.
"C'mon out, Jean-Luc," He called when we returned to the lair. "I know you're hiding in there. If you can get yourself into the boat without my help, you can get out now that we're back home." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but I wondered just HOW he knew!
I peeked out, and he was standing next to the boat, his cloak laying across a chair where he'd thrown it. A slightly stern expression was on his face, but I sensed he was more amused than upset with me.
"Mewor?"
"Yes, you, little man," he replied. "Come to me, little one," he added, using that same tone of voice he'd used earlier on the female voice. How could I refuse?
I ran into his open arms, and purred loudly as he held me, scratching under my chin.
"You are a most curious fellow," Erik continued, taking me to his chair so we could have some time together.
I purred in agreement, and once he got settled, I started kneading and treading in his lap, purring in contentment and happiness. Once I'd softened him up to my liking, I curled into a contented little ball of fur, reaching up from time to time to lick the hand that stroked my fur with such love.
"I believe, little man, that if you're going to be so industrious and curious, that you will sneak after me, that I'd best make sure you're with me, so you don't get left behind. Can I count on you not to get lost and left behind if you follow me? I don't want to have to coop you up in one room whenever I leave, but losing you would not be pleasant to me, either."
I sat up, and looked unblinkingly into his eyes. There was a very sad and lost note in his voice I'd never heard before when he spoke of losing me. I knew he cared for me, but he'd never spoken of the depth of that care before.
Some foolish humans think that animals have no soul, no ability to feel emotion, and that we are incapable of showing or knowing love. Such is their ignorance and their loss. We DO feel love for people and for our family, be it the family we're born into, or the family that we adopt as ours.
Erik was all the family I had in the world. He had helped me grieve the loss of my mother and siblings when he rescued me from the streets, and I gave him all the love that I had to give. There was no one else I wanted to give it to. I mewed over and over again, trying to convey my desires to him, wishing that cats could speak human or vice versa, because sometimes, we couldn't always understand each other, and finally, gave his face kitty kisses as an answer. He laughed indulgently, accepting my cries and kisses as an affirmation, and I snuggled into his arms as his hand caressed my fur.
After that day, I often accompanied Erik on his rounds of the opera. Sometimes we sat in "his" box high over the stage, and listened to the performers practice. Other times, when the managers remembered to keep box five empty, we would attend a performance. I couldn't refrain from my dislike for that one female with the vibrating high voice, so that I would make burying motions just to make my opinion known!
Sometimes, my person would sit forward in anticipation, and watch the dancers closely, especially when some of the dancers sang. I learned to recognize the female voice that he was teaching, and would sometimes watch her. She was as graceful as a feline when she moved, and I could see why my person was so interested in her.
She was certainly, as humans would say, quite lovely. But I wondered if her personality was as pleasing as her moves. My person seemed to think so. I had yet to form an opinion, one way or another. She seemed lonely, as if my person was her only friend in the world, yet, I could tell that many of the denizens of the opera house seemed to favor her, so I couldn't understand why she felt so lonely amongst so many.
My human became more interested in this girl as the weeks and months passed. He would draw pictures of her, and had his assistant, whom he paid monthly to pursue items on the outside for us, add items that would entice and delight female people. It got to a point that the assistant was meeting 3 times a week with my person to deliver the many purchases. Naturally, I went along, and the assistant often had a treat for me, as well as a scratch or two under my chin.
It was obvious to me that Erik wanted this female to become a part of our lives, and again, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous about this. After all, Erik had been my person for so long, that the idea of sharing him with another human or feline was difficult to consider. Yet, I often felt lonely for someone of my own kind from time to time, and knew my person felt the same. We eased each others loneliness, but we couldn't east it all, and being with one's own kind was important. So I accepted the eventuality of sharing my person with all the grace I could.
The Phantom of the Opera
A few years passed, andErik started pulling pranks on the prima donna, in an attempt to clear the way for the nice voiced lady to sing. The pranks were annoying and harmless, but to hear the prima donna carry on, one would think she was being tortured unmercifully. Each time, however, the diva just kept coming back to perform, and the nice voiced lady, whose name was Christine, continued to be relegated to the chorus.
One day, Erik was in a very excited mood. "Monsiuer LeFever is selling the opera house," he explained to me. "There will be new owners to train in how to run this theater. And this will be a good opportunity to help Christine to take her rightful place as the star!"
"Meow!" I agreed, eager to have that blasted diva displaced as soon as possible.
Erik laughed at the enthusiasm in my answer. "Don't think I've not seen your editorial opinion of Carlotta's singing, though I do agree with it! So sad as she was once very good, but she is well past her prime as a leading soprano. There is no shame in playing more mature roles with a mature, well trained voice to go with it!"
I purred in agreement with that. But all the pranks did little to remove Carlotta from her spot as premier soprano, much to our distaste. Still, with new managers, anything could happen, and this time, Erik was successful in making Carlotta mad enough to get her to not want to sing the night of the new manager's gala, and that opened the door for my person's protégé.
"Jean-Luc, tonight, you MUST stay home," Erik admonished me, as he prepared to take the boat out. "What I do tonight will take my entire concentration, and I cannot allow you to come with me."
I didn't understand why my person didn't want me to go with him this time as opposed to all the other times I'd accompanied him about the inner corridors of the opera house. Something about his manner, though, warned me that it was not a good idea to follow my own whiskers in this matter, so I curled up on a chair, flicking my tail in distain and pretended disinterest.
"Believe me, my friend, you'll understand soon enough." Erik said, taking my intended snub literally.
He climbed into the boat, all splendid looking and with an air of enthusiasm I'd not seen in him for awhile. I continued to flip my tail and watched him with unblinking eyes as he maneuvered the boat about the water. Apparently, tonight was important to the female he'd been teaching, and he didn't want me around to share in it. Fine with me, I was over due for a good nap, anyway. I sauntered to the bedroom and curled up amongst the pillows, being sure to shed quite a few hairs on his pillow, just for spite.
Later in the evening, I heard him talking and singing in the outer confines of the lair. He was singingto somebody, that much was clear. I listened, glad thathe'd returned from his solo sojourn, and wondered if he'd brought the older lady with him. She always brought a treat for me when she visited, and I liked her. I sauntered out into the lair, and saw him singing to the young female he'd always shown an interest in, the one he was teaching. He had brought her to our home and was showing her about.
He brought her nearer to the room he'd been preparing, and opened the drape to show her the white dress he'd purchased for her. She fainted, right into his arms! He carried her to the bed and laid her tenderly onto it, and lowered the curtain so she could rest. I was curious about her, but he picked me up and carried me out in the music room.
"Our guest is not used to animals, including cats, even charming ones like yourself, Jean-Luc," he explained to my noisy protest at being removed from the room. "You'll both have time to get to know each later, when she's grown used to you."
He gave me a treat and we spent a few moments in our favorite chair as he told me how well this person, Christine, had sung that night, and of his plans to make her a part of her world. "You'll have to get used to sharing me, little man, I hope you won't be too jealous!"
I purred and rubbed my whiskers against his face, which he'd left covered this time.
"That's because Christine has never seen my disfigurement. I'd rather prepare her for the sight, than for her to see it without warning. I don't think your lack of an eye is going to scare her, so you don't have to worry about wearing an identical mask, even though it would be a dramatic flare against your beautiful black fur."
I growled to let him know I didn't share his opinion, and he laughed while holding me close to him as usual.
What Happened When the Lady Unmasked The Phantom
A few hours later, he and I were at the organ, where he was working on some music, when we both had reason to look towards the "guest" room. There was a beautiful lady in white looking around. She had long dark hair and a kind face. She looked a little bewildered. Erik looked up at her, then returned to his music, giving me a brief wink. The woman came closer to us. She was wondering aloud to herself, reminding herself of all that had occurred to her earlier.
"Who is that face in the mirror? Who is that man in the mask?" she asked as she came near my person. I sensed something, and meowed a warning as she placed her hands on either side of his face. My warning went unheeded. Erik seemed very happy, almost ecstatic at her touch, but then her hands went to the mask, and she gasped in surprise.
That was enough to make Erik upset, and he flew into a sudden rage. I'd never seen him that angry myself, even when I made him drop the violin, and I hid behind the organ as he ranted and raved at her for her curiosity. It was a sudden rage, and it was over as quickly as it started.
As I peeked out of my hiding place, he was sitting next to her on the steps, holding his hand to the disfigured side of his face. I wanted to go to him, and purr and let him know everything was ok, but if this woman was so startled by the disfigurement on his face, what would make of mine? So, I stayed hidden, and watched her tentatively hand him the mask.
"Come, we must return. Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you," he told her. She complied with him, and they left the lair. I hoped she'd stay away for good. She'd done a lot of damage as far as I was concerned, and my person was hurt. To me, she was not a kind person, despite her looks.
When Erik returned, I was sitting at the docking point, waiting for him. He picked me up and buried his face in my fur, and I purred as hard as I could, showering his face with kitty kisses, so he would know that I understood his heartache, and still loved him.
Time passed, and another new opera was about to begin, something called Il Muto. Erik had hoped this woman he'd been training would sing the part of the lead, but it went to that noisy woman instead, and his student had a silent role. Erik was in a bad mood when he returned from the opening night, and he looked like he had been crying. I had a feeling it was that young woman's doing.
This time, Erik wouldn't look at me, or even hold me when I meowed at him. He didn't even move when I poked his arm with my paw. He simply sat, a very disappointed and unhappy person, in his chair, not even noticing when I curled up, purring as hard as I could, on his lap. He wouldn't even stroke me!
He sat in that chair, silent tears of hurt streaming down his face from time to time. I climbed up on his shoulder and licked the tears, trying to comfort him, but all my efforts were useless. He was completely devastated by something, and I wanted to scratch that student's eyes out for hurting my person, because as far as I was concerned, she was the cause of his unhappiness.
Eventually, Erik got up from the chair and seated himself in front of the organ, and began to play. The music he played hurt my ears, but it also hurt my heart. He'd never played something like that before, and no matter where I hid, that music followed and continued to hurt me.
I had no choice but to leave the lair for awhile. Whatever was bothering him, I could not help ease it, and his music, while beautiful, hurt my little kitty heart too much to endure much of it. I wandered along the caverns, until I'd gone far enough to not hear or feel the music, and settled down to wait.It was a very long wait. Thank goodness for the occasional rat, or I would have starved!
Many days later, I awoke from a fitful nap to find the cavern was quiet. Too quiet. There was no music, no sound at all. Was my person ok? I was frightened, and ran back the way I'd come, using my nose to sniff for my own scent when I grew unsure of my bearings.
I burst into the lair, which was very dim. The candles that usually made the place as bright as day were nearly burned out. Erik was not at the organ, nor in his chair. I meowed and cried in fear, searching and searching for my person. His scent was still fresh, so he was still home, and theboat was still docked! But where was he?
His bedchamber was empty, so was the guest chamber with the birdlike bed his student had slept in. The cooking area was cold and silent, so was the bathing cavern, and every other room.
I tried to remain calm,smelling his scent, from the organ and his chair and everywhere else. His scent didn't smell as depressed as before, and I clung to that change in his scent, hoping it meant that he was over whatever had upset him so. Worrying was doing me no good, so I curled up on his chair, and tried to sleep.
Minutes seemed like hours to me, but finally I heard the sound of his footsteps on the stones! I sat up, my ears as far forward as they would go, and meowed loudly, both a welcome and an inquiry.
"So there you are! I had looked all over the lair for you, and up above as well! Where were you!" There was a scolding tone to his voice.
My ears went back against my head. How dare he scold ME? I'd been the one worried about him for days, and he dares to scold me like I was the one who disappeared! "ME-OW!" I shouted, as loud as I could, flipping my tail indignantly from one side to another.
"Why are you acting so mad at me?" He seemed to be teasing me now, and that just made me madder, so I hissed.
"Oh my! Showing your temper, are you?" He laughed. It was a genuinely happy laugh, and he held his hand out to my face.
I didn't want to give him ANY attention, after all the days he'd been locked in his own solitude and locked me out emotionally. I wanted to just look at him, with my one unblinking eye set in a baleful glare, but I couldn't stay mad at him for very long. His hand brushed against my whiskers, and I lifted my chin to accept his caress, and I began to purr. Damn it!
He picked me up and held me close to his heart. I could hear it beating. He smelled like normal. He smelled like everything was okay in our world again. I began treading his arm as he stroked me and carried me to the chair, where we sat and we communed with each other. All my hurt and fear evaporated as he spoke to me,confirming my belief that the student HAD hurt him, and hurt him deeply.
I growled in response to this, but he admonished me. "No, Jean-Luc. It's a normal reaction for someone as young as her. She is like a kitten, and knows no better, only to fear that which isn't whole and perfect. We know better because we have learned, just as she will learn. You'll help me teach her, won't you?"
My look must've conveyed my feelings of 'you've GOT to be kidding! Me? Help you with her? I'd rather scratch her than bury her!' He laughed and petted me some more. "You'll learn to love her as much as I do in time, Jean-Luc. But I thank you for your loyalty."
He picked me up and carried me to the cooking cavern. "I imagine you're very hungry, and I'm sorry to have neglected you. I have some of your favorite foods here, enjoy." He placed me in front of several small bowls, each holding my favorite treats. There was also a big bowl of fresh water (the water in the caverns, while cool, often tasted funny, and I was very glad to have the fresh water!), and another bowl of cream. Naturally, this feast made me purr with delight.
Writing Don Juan Triumphant
Erik didn't make any forays to the opera house for many months after that, though we did go outside for our walks every day, and he had other business above to tend to. He also spent much time at the organ, composing. This music, though it touched me, was less hurtful to me than what he'd played that ghastly night. Some of the music sounded like what I produced when I'd run along the keys, but much of it was very beautiful, so that I sat on top of the organ and enjoyed it. Once in awhile, he would reach up and scratch under my chin, or between my ears, and sing to me.
One day, after he had done some very intense composing, he suddenly took me up in his arms, and sat with me in our chair. As he stroked my fur, he told me what had happened that long ago night. He told me of how he'd had to kill a man who was a constant threat to our peace and quiet, and that had led to the student he loved so dearly to find solace and comfort in the arms of another man, called a Vicomte. He had been devastated that night, and felt that his life was over, until he remembered that he still had me to care for.
"I suppose you really don't understand what I'm saying, but it was because of your need for me that I was able to come back to myself and find a way to overcome the grief." He held me up to his face, then held me against his shoulder, much as a parent holds a baby for burping, and I licked his face, both sides, to show that I did understand.
The mature lady that often visited us came one day with news of a grand party that would be taking place at the opera house, and also with the news that there was gossip about hisstudentbeing engaged to the Vicomte.
Erik didn't react as I expected he would to this news, considering how much he loved that young girl. He thanked her for telling him the news, and the lady left after giving me my treat and rubbing my ears.
Erik watched the lady, who he referred to as Mme. Giry, depart from the lair. He was still quiet, but not upset. His gaze shifted to the statue of the student, still dressed in the white dress and veil. His gaze seemed a little sad, but hopeful as well.
He turned away from the water with a sigh. "The night of the Bal Masque shall be the night I present the managers with my opera."
End of Book One