Hello dear readers and esteemed reviewers. You are about to enter the opera house. The building in this tale is an amalgam of the one found in the ALW 20004 movie POTO, and the actual Opera Garnier, which currently exists in Paris. In addition, I've added a few of my own embellishments.
The Phantom will be making a cameo appearance in this chapter.
Again, if I may be so bold, I request that you consider leaving a comment (also called a review) when you finish this chapter. If you like, please write!
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CHAPTER 3 Home
After the clean sweep of the rains the air remained soft and moist. The striking hooves of Pierre's cart horse clipped out a musical cadence that rang across the cobblestones as they walked down the street.
It was approximately a mile from the café to the opera house, normally an easy stroll. Not so for Jade. A brief surge of energy after her meal didn't last long. Once she started walking, her strength quickly disappeared. The fatigue dragged at her legs, which felt heavy and useless. Step by step her mood darkened. All she wanted to do was rest, as she struggled to keep up with the man who walked beside her. She would not be left behind.
Pierre cautiously watched his companion. He was prepared to grab her, and hoist her up on his cart if she collapsed again. He would have offered her a ride but he knew it would be rejected. The set of her jaw and the bone hard look in her eyes said that this was something she would do without help. He thought it rather absurd since it would have been easy enough for her to ride rather than walk. She is proud, and stubborn. Irrational!
They arrived, and stood in front of the enormous building. As Pierre led the horse to a side street, Jade sat upon a step to rest.
Slumping forward to ease her back, she grasped her ankles in a brief stretch. Then turning her head, she sat upright, and twisted her neck further. Her gaze lazily followed the tilt of her head, and she spied a corner of the opera house roof where a black object faltered in the breeze. Curious, she turned to see it better, but it had disappeared.
Pierre returned, and the two entered the building through the front entrance.
They stepped through the large double doors, and stood inside the grand foyer. It was a stunning room with a décor of rich gold and black. The gaslights lit up the room, and cast a bright sheen on the marble floor. Their footsteps echoed as they moved from the doors.
Jade gazed at the magnificent room that stretched out before her, and was enchanted by its elegance. She felt like a butterfly that after an exhausting struggle to emerge from its cocoon, lies on its first leaf, and breathes in the color of a glorious, new day.
The grinding fatigue lifted, as she stepped forward with slow, sure steps. She reached down, and touched the floor, feeling its smooth surface. What a marvel it would be to stretch out on this floor, and feel its coolness on my cheek, she mused.
A door opened, and a man approached them, asking about their business there. After a few words he left them to fetch Pierre's friend. Moments later, a sturdy young workman approached them, and said that he was to take them to the management's offices.
She regretted leaving the beautiful room. But as they walked down the large hallway, other sights caught her interest. There were rooms of plaster casts and costumes. One room was filled with enormous mirrors.
Jade almost floated down the long hallway, as she ignored her companions and her previous fatigue. If only I could wander in this building alone through its forest of rooms and hallways. I would love to explore this place and get lost. Then I would have the satisfaction of finding my way home.
Home.The young man's heavy steps resounded through the hallway as they walked behind him down the large, empty corridor. Pierre watched Jade's face, and noted the quick changes of curiosity and delight that crossed it as she peered into the various rooms. His delight was as strong as hers but for a different reason: for the first time he saw her joy escape from her guarded exterior.
They were let into a small office with western facing windows. The sun had begun to set, and it lit the walls with a rosy light. Jade chose a chair near the windows, and propped her feet up on a small stool. Sitting there with her eyes closed, she let out a long, contented sigh. A peaceful smile settled upon her face, as the blazing light painted her still figure with vibrant color. Pierre took a deep breath as he looked at her. She's lovely! How quickly she changes, like a breeze.
They sat there alone until the sun faded, and the room grew darker.
The door opened, and a man entered.
"Pierre, how good it is to see you," he said, as he eagerly offered his hand to his friend.
"Good evening Jacque. I must say that you're looking very well. I'd like you to meet my friend, Mademoiselle Jade. Jade, please allow me to introduce you to Monsieur Jacque DuChant, manager of the Opera Populaire."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mademoiselle."
Jade stood in front of M. DuChant, and gave him her hand. She looked at him steadily as she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He was middle aged, perhaps 40 or so, and she could see that he was assessing her. He looked older than Pierre. He was stouter, and had a business-like air to him. He showed no surprise as he looked at her. Since Pierre had introduced her as "his friend" she wondered if that would counterbalance this man's opinion of her shabby clothes.
DuChant was assessing her demeanor and appearance. He knew that Pierre's introduction was a silent request that he do something for this woman. Pierre had a soft heart for lost causes. But he was also an astute businessman and could separate the two. If Pierre wanted him to hire this woman then he could trust that she was competent.
Quickly looking her up and down, the first thing he noticed was her shabby clothes. However, he approved of her bearing and the no nonsense way that she looked into his eyes. In fact, if she had presented herself in suitable attire, he would have easily mistaken her for a dancer. She carried herself with a natural grace, and held her head high. She was young, probably not much more than 20 years old. But her youth was an advantage since he was looking for a flexible attitude in his new staff. After the disaster of last year, most of the old employees had left, and finding reliable people had become difficult. He appreciated Pierre's suggestion that he hire this young woman. She looked on the weak side but he assumed that with rest and good food that would soon be remedied.
"Mademoiselle, are you by chance looking for a position here?"
"Yes Monsieur. I'm looking for work. I can start as soon as there is a position available."
Duchant nodded, and turned to Pierre.
The remainder of their time in the office was spent with the two men discussing Pierre's future deliveries to the café.
When they were finished, DuChant left the room, and motioned for them to follow. They walked down several long hallways, and up two staircases until they reached the staff quarters. DuChant stopped in front of a door, and after unlocking it, he ushered them into a moderately sized bedroom with scant furnishings. Turning to Jade, he handed her the key.
"Mademoiselle, this will be your room. You begin work tomorrow at noon. Feel free to join the staff for breakfast in the morning and lunch if you wish. Welcome to the Opera Populaire. Goodnight."
With that, he left the two of them alone.
Jade looked up at Pierre who had a bright look in his eyes. He appeared to be suppressing a smile. Sitting down on the one chair in the room, she glanced around at her new quarters, and took in its stark simplicity. Her feet were aching, her legs were leaden, and she felt absolutely dingy from her recent sojourn on the street. But it was over. Thanks to Pierre, she was now safe and employed.
She looked up at him, unsure how to express her gratitude. She wasn't accustomed to depending on others for her survival. He has been very kind to me, and asked nothing in return. At least not yet
Standing up, she faced him. She looked long and carefully at his face, searching for something that would help her proceed.
He stood before her with a kind look in his dark brown eyes, waiting patiently. This is difficult for her, he thought.
Finally, she slowly reached into a pocket in her skirt, and pulled out a small object. She took his hand, and placed the item on his palm.
He looked down at a tiny silver horse.
"Pierre, this has been my good luck charm for some time. Now that my luck has changed, and I am here, I give it to you, for the day when you may need it as well."
He closed his fingers around the charm, and after holding it for a moment, placed it into his left shirt pocket. Pressing it to his heart, he gave her a slight bow.
"I accept this as a token of our friendship, Mademoiselle Jade," he said with a warm smile.
Her lips moved slightly in response but didn't form a smile. He did notice a difference in her eyes. Not exactly warmth, but certainly less guarded.
Leaving her room, Pierre walked back towards his friend's office. As he strode the length of the hallway, he pressed his hand over his left shirt pocket, and felt the tiny horse burrow into his heart.
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The two men were in a sitting room that was adjacent to Jacque's office. They had some catching up to do over drinks and cigars. Pierre would spend the night in a room in the staff quarters. Part of his arrangement as a new employee would be to have a room there that he could use whenever he was in Paris.
Jacque was happy to have Pierre here for the night. He'd missed his old friend. Although the days of their childhood were long ago, they had managed to maintain a special closeness and trust. He was Pierre's senior by five years but it hadn't mattered much when they were growing up together. Pierre had always been more adventurous and brighter than the other village children. His innate ability to understand and respect the feelings of others had made him a good companion. Jacque had asked him several times to leave the orchards, and come to Paris. He seemed particularly suited to the subtleties of Parisian social life, and with the right contacts he could have made something of himself.
He wondered about Pierre's relationship with this young woman. He'd noticed the keen interest Pierre had for her, and wanted to explore that a little more with his old friend.
"So, how do you like your new position as manager of this great opera house?" asked Pierre. He was feeling relaxed and happy at the accomplishments of this evening. His new friend was safe up in her room, probably already asleep.
"It's hard work but I think it suits me," replied Jacque. He got up and poured another drink that he offered to his friend. "The hiring is going a little slower than I'd like, but since it was expected by the new owners, I'm not under any particular pressure to meet an unrealistic deadline."
"Why is hiring a problem?" asked Pierre. "This is a big city with many people who need work. A famous opera house should be able to pick and choose from many prospects."
Furrowing his brow, Jacque tried to find the simplest way through his tale. It was a fantastic story that he tired of telling. But it was a reasonable request from his friend.
"About a year and a half ago, there were a series of calamitous events that finally came to a head here. There was evidently a mad man living somewhere in the opera house, and he was harassing the staff and the managers. He blackmailed the former owners into paying him a high "wage" so that he wouldn't wreak havoc on the place. If he weren't placated, there would be timely "accidents" to various members of the cast and staff. A man was killed from a hanging that occurred in the middle of a performance. The managers and the patron tried to capture the fellow. He was quite mad by then but very clever. He had given them an opera that he had composed, and he demanded that they stage it! Furthermore, he had written the female lead part for a young diva, a Christine Daae that he was apparently enamored with. The opera was staged but with the intent to trap him. Instead, he killed the lead male singer, and kidnapped the diva in the middle of the performance. During his escape, he brought down the chandelier which caused a fire and the damage that we are currently repairing."
Jacque got up and stood by the liquor cabinet, and poured himself another drink. This story always made him thirsty. He hated this type of ridiculous drama. Imagine. Stealing a performer in the middle of a performance and setting the house on fire! It's the kind of over blown drama that silly women love to read about. And now he had to waste time convincing people that the matter was put to rest.
Pierre had a look of extreme discomfort. His eyes were wide as he heard his friend's tale.
"What happened to the man and the girl that he took?"
Settling back into his chair, Jacque answered. "The girl showed up a day later. She then left Paris with the patron. I've heard that they are married. I don't know what became of the man. He simply vanished, and wasn't heard from again." He shrugged as if to say that the whole thing was finished.
Pierre stood up, and walked to the window. It was an incredible story, and it bothered him that there wasn't a formal ending. The discovery of the mad man's corpse would have made him feel less uneasy.
"How can you be so sure that he's really gone?' he asked his friend as he faced the window. He was listening for the tone of Jacque's voice that might reveal a hidden knowledge about this matter.
Once again Jacque involuntarily shrugged as he thought about his friend's question. "It was the love for the girl that drove him mad, they say. Once she left, he left. There have been no signs of him since the fire. The police looked but never found a trace of him."
Turning to his friend, Pierre asked in a low voice, "the night of the fire, was that the last performance in the opera house?" He stepped in front of his seated friend, and looked down at him.
A thought crossed Jacque's mind, then he shook his head quickly to dismiss it. "It was the last performance but I don't think that's important. By every account, it was the girl that he wanted, and nothing else. Everyone said that she was a stunning beauty that sang like an angel."
Pierre sighed. His friend was practical and likely to reject the idea of a dangerous, lurking presence in the opera house. It was a fantastic story, the sort that might scare away some people from working here. He was glad that he would be visiting this place once a week. It didn't hurt to be cautious.
Suddenly an idea came to him.
"Jacque, I'd like to take a room close to Jade's."
Jacque looked at his friend with a smirk. Here it was, evidence of a possible tryst between the two of them. She wasn't exactly the kind of woman he would have chosen for his good friend but if that's what made him happy…
"Certainly, Pierre. It will be arranged by the time of your next visit."
Pierre went to his room as he thought of the events of the day. He kicked his boots off, and lay down on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. The satisfaction that he had felt earlier in the evening was gone. He wondered what other secrets this place held. Was there a possible danger here for his little friend? After a few minutes, he rolled over on his side, and let the worry go. Without evidence of a malicious presence it was a pointless concern. As his friend said, the diva was gone. With her had left the man who was obsessed with her.
As his eyes relaxed and sleep closed in upon him, one last thought drifted through his mind. He called himself O.G., which stood for Opera Ghost…