Disclaimer: All originating characters and storylines belong to their respectful owner. This is mostly a continuation of ALW's work, but I do throw GL a couple of good nods. All new characters and sub-plots are my original work and are not to be used/reproduced without my expressed permission. Enjoy the story and shoot some feedback my way if you can! Thanks for reading.
Twinkle22: Your review as lovely as ever. Thanks for being a loyal "phan!"
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Chapter Nineteen
The letter had been sealed with the church's stamp. There was no return address, save for the Paris city postmarking. When Genevieve delivered it, Christine was only puzzled for a moment until she saw the name etched into the wax: Rapier. Her heart started pounding ferociously and her fingers shook as she hurriedly ripped the envelope apart. Inside was a flier printed in simple letters of a traveling fair in Paris that week. Father Rapier had also written a letter.
Dear Viscountess de Chagny,
I hope this letter finds you and your family doing well. Your recent contribution to the church is most appreciated. I do hope that you do plan on fulling a church duty that I gave to you as your personal charge. The Heavenly Father is always actively seeking ways to reform his children back to the roots of the church. If you can spare the time away from your family, I would be obliged to ask for your help this week during our time of need. We can provide your lodging and many of the Sisters here look forward to seeing you once again.
Sincerely,
Father Rapier
Guilt washed over Christine. She had forgotten during her pregnancy of the promise she made to Father Rapier to find Erik's mother. She thought that it was clever of him to write her a letter so discriminately. Raoul would never question the intention behind her permission to travel. Stephan was nearly nine months old now and she felt comfortable in asking for this small favor. Their marriage was more of a union now that Stephan had arrived and Christine no longer felt the impending dread that had once encompassed her life. Raoul gave her his best wishes and quickly made arrangements for her to travel to Paris. Stephan and Genevieve would accompany her on the trip.
The cathedral, it seemed, was waiting for her arrival as she was promptly given a room in the Nunnery. As they began to unpack, Christine was greeted warmly by the priest. While Genevieve was putting Stephan to sleep in their room, Father Rapier asked her to accompany him to his chamber.
"I was surprised to see a little one," he stated as he sat down behind his desk. "He looks fit, fine and healthy. I imagine that must have been what was keeping you."
Christine sheepishly replied, "Yes, Father, it was. But I am here now."
"And you are," he said warmly. "From that flier, you know that the fair will only be in town two more days. We don't have much time left. I tried, unsuccessfully, to enter the arena, but was escorted out by two very brute men within minutes of my arrival." He rubbed his face with his palms. "You are my last hope. "
"I will do my best," Christine said earnestly.
"She should know where Erik is, but unfortunately, he has gone missing. The Opera Populaire is completely abandoned. I went to see myself. You wouldn't know where to find him," Father Rapier asked.
After Christine shook her head vehemently, he sighed and continued, "Still she should know about him. But, if we could find just one more tidbit about his past; who the father is, a family name, a birth record, a death record, it might help us unlock the mystery around Erik. Only she would know. I can only imagine what she might think of you, telling her what the truth might be," he said wearily. "I do not want you to go alone, but I don't know of any other way. Hopefully she is still there and will grant you this one request." He went to his bookcase and pulled out a tattered piece of cloth that Christine did not immediately recognize. "I found it surprising that he kept this all these years. When Erik first came to me, he wanted repentance. He wanted to shed his old image and start a new path to righteousness." Father Rapier handed the dirty rag to Christine.
She felt over the crude cloth that smelled of death and decay. It was a bag of some sorts. She turned it over and was shocked to see three holes cut into it. It seemed all too familiar to her. She whispered, "A mask." She looked back up to the priest. "HIS mask," she stressed. Father Rapier grimly nodded his head. "And what do you want me to do with this?"
"If you get the chance to meet Yessinia, I think you should return this to her. I fear that it is probably the only remaining artifact of the son she lost, and it might be the only way she'll listen to what you have to say." He sighed heavily. "I do not know how she will respond. My only worry is to have you risk bodily harm in doing this task for me."
"Erik is indebted to you for your kindness." Christine looked back to the mask. "I am indebted to you as well. This small favor you ask of me is one that I will do gladly, for the both of you."
"God speed to you, child," Father Rapier said thankfully. "The festivities start at sundown."
Christine thanked him and went back into her room, tucking the mask into the bosom of her dress. Stephan was sleeping peacefully with Genevieve napping by his side. The remainder of the day her thoughts were inundated with mental pictures of what Erik's childhood must have been like. Looking at her own child safe and warm in his bed, she couldn't imagine the pain that Yessinia must have felt seeing her child being treated less than a common animal. She carefully placed the mask into a small handbag. Her hand rested upon it for a moment before she heard Stephan's whimpers.
Later that night, she told Genevieve that she would be traveling down to the bazaar to help with the Father's task. Genevieve, worried, cautioned her, "Please be careful, milady. There are bound to be unsavory characters out tonight."
"Thank you for your concern," Christine said, her voice slightly shaking. "I think it will be all right. After all, I am just humbly spreading the word of God." Stephan cooed at her. She playfully whispered to him, "You best be a good little boy to Geni." Kissing him on both cheeks and bidding Genevieve goodbye, she solemnly left the room.
Her heart would not beat any faster. She could hear it in her ears. Christine was able to see the parading and laughing from the town square. It was amazing for her to see all the spectacle and fanfare. There were fireworks and fanciful magic tricks at every corner. The gypsies watched her with a careful eye, but held their tongues as she opened her pocketbook and gave them generous donations.
Champagne and ales were being poured in excess and many of the bystanders were blissful in their inebriation. There was much to see and Christine seemed to lose the purpose of her mission as she continued to take it all in. She walked past the cart two times before she finally realized it was there. In big, bold lettering, "Mama Nia's Mystical Palm Readings" fanned over the entrance away from the festivities. There were many happy, young couples that wanted to see how their lives together would fare. The line circled around the wagon twice. Christine thought it would be best to wait until later in the evening to chance her luck with the Madame.
It was nearly sunrise when the shops had started to close. Christine took the opportunity to walk back to the cart and seek her fortune. Just as she tried to enter, the door slammed shut. Christine pounded on the door. "Please, I am only in town this evening and will be more than generous if you give me this opportunity. I need your help."
The door opened a crack and Christine saw her bright green eyes shining from within. "I am tired, Madame. It would take a small fortune to rouse me from my bed at this late hour."
Christine pulled her coin purse from her bag, jingling the coins it held within. "I hope this will suffice to wake your tired eyes." Mama Nia held out her hands and Christine dumped the gold coins into them. After pulling her hand back in, Christine could hear her counting the coins.
The door was quickly opened. "This is a charitable sum. You must have a dire need," Mama Nia purred as she led Christine inside the small booth. "I will be happy to assist you. Please have a seat." Christine looked at the magnificent cloths draping over the walls in brilliant purples and blues, and placed her bag next to her feet. Mama Nia took her place behind the crystal orb and placed her hands on the table, palm side up. "Your hands, please, Madame," she instructed her patron. Christine did so willingly.
While Mama Nia looked over Christine's hands, Christine took every effort to remember her face. Though she was along in her years, Christine was surprised to see how young she looked. The lines etched in her olive skin, but Christine could see the ravishing beauty she must have been once. Her lips were still plump and her figure shapely. Her black hair, though white at the temples, waved and curled elegantly over her shoulders and back. The sloping, elegant nose was exactly the same as Erik's. The eyes, though, was what Christine focused on. They shared the same gentle ferociousness as his.
Mama Nia was still inspecting her palms. She ran her thumbs over the lines in Christine's hands. Finally, looking back into Christine's eyes, she asked, "What is it you are here for my child?"
Although Christine was tempted to tell her the truth, she resisted. "I am troubled, and I do not know how to fix what I have broken," Christine half-heartedly lied. "I do not know where to go."
Mama Nia looked back into her hands, "Does your husband know the child is not his?" Christine pulled back her hands snappishly. She immediately felt her face grow warm and turn red. Mama Nia laughed, "Do not worry Madame, your secret is safe with me." She turned around to the bureau set behind her and pulled out a case of cigarettes. Pulling one out, she offered one to Christine, who declined. After she lit it and drew it out, she exhaled into the air and asked, "But that is obviously not why you are here, is it?"
Christine felt the urge to leave and tell Father Rapier to find another missionary, but forced herself to remain in the seat. "If you know so much, why don't you tell me?" Christine found it hard to disguise the malevolence in her voice.
Mam Nia took another long, slow draw and exhaled, this time in Christine's face. "You are here from the church. It is obvious that this type of extravaganza is not something that you would do so willingly. Especially without an escort." Mama Nia laughed, "You do not know the kind of trouble you could find yourself in if you aren't wanted." She leaned in closer to Christine, "And you aren't." Mama Nia stood up and turned to the back of the wagon, "Still, I do not think you have come here with any ill will. I have taken your money, happily, so give me whatever charge the 'Holy Father' has asked of you and be on your way."
Christine picked up her handbag and removed the tattered cloth she hid from within. Placing it on the table and slid it to Mama Nia. "I am returning something that belongs to you, Yessinia. You lost it long ago. Father Rapier wanted me to return it to you. I thank you for lending me your time." Christine stood up and started walking out. She was halfway across the square holding her coat in tightly and trying not to stare at the drunkards that catcalled to her, among other demeaning gestures that were thrown at her. Her eyes smarted as she ran the rest of the way to the church. She admonished herself, "I did my best under the circumstances. There was nothing more that I could do." Without wanting to, Christine felt the tears well up in her eyes before they ran down her cheeks.
The entire cathedral was empty and Christine could hear her footsteps resonating throughout the halls. Father Rapier was waiting in his office. "Thank heavens you are here. I was getting worried," he said. When he saw the condition that Christine was in, he placed his arms around her shoulders and let her sob into his cloak. "I am sorry, my child. I should never have asked you to do this." He led her to the chair, closed the door and handed her his handkerchief. "Did you give it to her?"
Christine nodded, but broke into a sobbing fit, "I am sorry Father," Christine croaked in between her sobs. "I failed you. I failed Erik." She tried to continue, but found herself overwhelmed.
Father Rapier sat on his desk and faced Christine, "No you couldn't have known what it would have been like. I shouldn't have asked something this big. You did what I asked of you. There is nothing more you could have done." As he tried to console her, someone knocked softly on the door. As Father Rapier opened it, Christine let out a sigh of astonishment.
Yessinia was carefully caressing the mask Christine had given her. She looked to the priest and asked softly, "How did you get this?" Her tears shone brightly. She collapsed into his arms. Sobbing she said, "Please – please tell me that my son is still alive."