Chapter 3: The Surprise
[featuring 'Erik's Bright Ideas' and 'The Angel's Visit']
Erik strolled through the winding streets of Phantasma. The visitors he passed marveled at the tall man in elegant black clothes and a white half mask. They assumed he was another of the many freaks wandering around the park. Little did they know, they were crossing paths with the mysterious Mr. Y, the very man they debated the existence of. Erik slipped through a back door of the dance hall and lurked in the wings of the stage where the dancers were finishing a rehearsal led by Meg.
"Hello, Mademoiselle Giry," said Erik as the dancers made their way backstage to the communal dressing room. Meg froze and narrowed her eyes at the man looming before her.
"Hello, Erik," she said suspiciously, wondering why Erik was being so formal with her and what he was doing here in the first place. He rarely left the darkness of his aerie, and he certainly never came to the dance hall to watch her perform.
"May I speak to you in my office when you have a moment?" Erik asked.
"Oh yes, of course…" Meg bit her lip. Her fellow dancers were peeking around the doorway to the dressing room. They were certain the boss was up to no good, but Meg was certain she was about to be fired for her trigger-happy finger.
Meg ignored the other dancers' curiosity as she changed out of her costume. When she re-emerged from the dressing room, Erik offered her his arm like a gentleman, and Meg cringed at the collective gasp and chorus of giggly gossip from the other dancers when Meg latched onto his arm. Erik whisked her through the crowded streets of Phantasma, down every secret alleyway until they ascended the spiral staircase of the aerie, high above the park.
"Hello, Ayesha," said Erik as he bent down to pet his beloved Siamese cat. The animal eagerly accepted her master's gentle touch. Meg took a seat on the piano bench and watched the man affectionately stroke his cat.
"Erik, what do you want?" she snapped. Meg hated the masked man's habit of sitting in silence while his company became increasingly uncomfortable by the glare of his cat eyes.
"I want to apologize to you, Mademoiselle Giry," said Erik. "After the…incident…with Christine, I may have let my temper get the better of me-"
That's an understatement, thought Meg, but she held her tongue.
"-and I would like to apologize," finished Erik. "I should not have made those threats and curses at you, and I'm very sorry."
"Well, I can forgive this time, but don't let it happen again," said Meg stubbornly. A small smile spread across her face when Erik bowed and thanked her for her 'generous forgiveness' as he called it. Meg shyly averted her eyes toward her lap. She still loved Erik even though he hated her to death right now. Why else would he be so formal with her? Meg looked up at him again, her gaze meeting his twinkling golden eyes. No, Erik didn't hate her. In fact, Meg was sure he didn't.
"That will be all, Mademoiselle Giry. You may go," said Erik. Meg nodded and stood from her chair. She passed her mother on the staircase and the older woman frowned at her daughter's dazed face. Ayesha scampered over to the new visitor, but Madame Giry took no notice of the animal clawing at her skirts.
"Erik, what do you want?" said the ballet mistress the moment she reached the top of the staircase. Madame Giry knew Erik had a habit of sitting in silence and she didn't have time for his nonsense. "Erik, I'm waiting." Madame Giry crossed her arms and tapped her foot with irritation.
"Madame Giry, on the pier it became known that your daughter had been performing… favours… to men. Is that correct?" Erik asked sternly.
"Yes," Madame Giry admitted. "Phantasma wouldn't have been built otherwise, or it would've taken twice as long to collect the funds. Why else do you think those people were interested?"
"They were investors! They were getting a cut of the profits!" Erik fumed. Very few of the investors had been interested from the start. In fact, none of them had been on board with the mad genius' wild schemes. Some of the businessmen needed more time to think, while others gave Erik a flat out refusal only to contact him a few weeks later with their minds changed. Erik shivered at the thought.
"I can't believe you put your daughter in that situation," Erik growled.
"She would've met the same fate if she'd stayed at the Opera," Madame Giry shared the harsh reality. "There's a reason mothers are so anxious to get their little daughters into the corps de ballet and it's not for the glory of the stage-"
"Thank you, Madame Giry. I am well aware of the goings-on of the dancers' lounge. You forget I was once the Opera Ghost."
"- I mean really, Erik. How do you think I ended up with the kid in the first place?"
Erik froze.
"Well, I guess I assumed you were a widow, Madame Giry," he said.
"Hah! Well, you couldn't call me a little mademoiselle, now could you? I'd like to see someone try!" the old woman said haughtily.
"Yes...well...In any event." Erik shook his head while he tried to get the conversation back on track. "Phantasma has been built; my fortune, made. I will no longer by requiring either of your services, Madame Giry."
"What! You're firing us? After everything we did for you?" Madame Giry's jaw dropped. She'd been a ballet mistress at one of the world's finest companies; her daughter had been climbing the ranks of the corps de ballet, but they abandoned everything for Erik, and he repaid them by turning them out!
"Of course not, Madame. I never forget those who have been good to me. The list is very short, after all." Erik chuckled.
"Then, what do you mean?" Madame Giry asked.
"I don't think Meg belongs on that stage, doing these silly little shows."
"I can agree with that." Madame Giry nodded. "But my daughter was born to dance and if this is how she lives her passion, so be it. Lots of women do these shows."
"Yes, well Meg is different. She is a lady and I think it's time someone treated her as such."
Madame Giry frowned, wondering what Erik could possibly have meant by such a statement. She noticed a small smile spread across his face; his golden eyes glittered even in the shadowy darkness of the aerie. Was Erik falling in love with her daughter? With Christine in the picture, such an idea was preposterous! But Christine would be returning to France eventually...
"Madame Giry, the season is coming to a close," Erik stated. "I've decided to relocate to my estate on the North Shore for the winter. I think it'd be better for Christine's health. You and your daughter are invited, of course. However, if there's somewhere else, you'd rather spend your retirement-"
"Retirement, eh?" Madame Giry's ears perked up. "Well, I guess the North Shore's as good a place as any…"
"Excellent. Your last act of service will be to pick Meg's replacement as lead dancer. Then I'll begin the search for a new choreographer and you, Madame, will be forbidden to work for me ever again."
"Don't need to tell me twice…"
"Thank you, Madame Giry. You are dismissed." Erik waved her away, and Madame Giry nodded a thanks. When she reached the staircase, she threw a glance over her shoulder before descending. Erik was kneeling on the ground petting Ayesha and humming a haunting melody. He was an eerily eccentric man. One never knew what tricks he had up his sleeve.
Christine passed her days in pain and boredom. The curtains of her room were always drawn over the window, blocking out the warm summer sunlight; but the neon lights of Phantasma somehow managed to bother her when she tried to sleep at night. The room was stuffy, but she couldn't open the windows for fresh air without hearing the roar of the park. Christine didn't have anyone to open windows for her, anyway. She hadn't reconciled with Raoul before he left for France, and she'd ruined her chances of companionship with the Girys when she'd snubbed Meg. Her Angel, it seemed, was too busy to pay her a visit. Christine gasped hopefully with every knock on her door, but if her visitor wasn't a hotel maid bringing her food or the doctor trying to poke and prod her, the knocker was only ever Gustave. Her darling son was the only shred of joy she had left in her life.
"Come in," Christine said dismally in response to the latest knock. To her surprise, her visitor was not a maid, the doctor, or Gustave. Her Angel had come at last! And he'd brought his beloved cat to cheer her up.
"Hello, Madame de Chagny," he said as he sat in the chair beside her bed. "Can you tolerate a visit from me and Ayesha?"
"Hello, Angel. I was wondering when you'd visit me!" Christine giggled when he placed Ayesha in her lap, and she stroked the Siamese cat's soft fur. "And hello to you too, Ayesha," she added lovingly.
"Yes, our apologies for not coming sooner. We wanted to give you time to rest," her Angel explained. "Have you been comfortable? You're not too bored, I hope?"
"Oh, I've been alright," Christine lied. The gunshot hadn't killed her, but her boredom would. She had nothing to amuse herself and since she had no curls of hair to twirl around her finger, her fidgeting hands had to content themselves with the elaborate embroidery on her blankets. Christine wanted to reach for her Angel's hand, but he was too far away and didn't have any intention of moving closer.
"Would you be interested in a change of scenery, Madame de Chagny?" her Angel inquired. "I want to get you out of Phantasma, if you are well enough for a train ride."
"A train ride? But where to?" Christine asked excitedly.
"That's a surprise, Madame de Changy! But you are interested?"
"Yes! Very much!" Christine exclaimed. She would make herself well enough for the surprise.
"Excellent! Good day, Madame de Chagny" Her Angel smiled and stood from his chair. Ayesha hopped from Christine's bed to follow her master as the man left the room.
Christine sighed in despair after his departure. Her Angel's visit had been much too short, but the anticipation of a surprise would get her through the rest of her stay at Phantasma.