I roll to my side, expecting to feel a warm body, but only found one of my throw pillows. Was it all a dream? Did last night really happen? I sat up and stretched, my back cracking in several places. The clock in the great room began to ring out its usual chime, One, two, three, four, five, six…surely I didn't sleep this late? Seven, eight, nine, ten… Ten in the morning? How could this be?! I flew out of bed and dressed in something more casual than my usual coat and tails. Belle, I have to see her and make sure this wasn't all a dream… I took the gondola across the lake and started to skip steps as I ascended the stairs. I threw the mirror open, nearly cracking the glass.
"Belle!" I shouted. The only reply I received was silence. I stepped into her room, remembering her words 'I have to be at work in the morning.' I didn't care if she was working, I had to see her. I took a few steps toward her door when something soft met the sole of my boot. Her shawl, but why would she drop it? I took it in my hands when
"Where is she Erik?" I look up to see Antoinette ready to strangle me with my own noose. I stood to my feet, towering over the middle-aged woman.
"I was hoping you could tell me. I found this on the floor when I walked in." I gave her the shawl. Two more bodies joined her; Conner and Lukas had eyes locked on me as I gave Antoinette their sister's shawl. The elder of the boys began to spew out German gibberish, only a few words could I recognize while the younger one just stared at me, I assume cursing me in whatever language mute people use. "I really wish I could help, but you know as much as I do. We have to find her, I lo…" I halted my sentence as Antoinette pulled me by the arm, who was having her hand pulled on by the little mute boy. No one said a word, but followed the boy to their room. He let go of Antoinette's hand and raced to his cot, pulling out a piece of paper with writing on it. He handed it to Antoinette, pointing rapidly at the page. I leaned over to see what was written on it.
To M. and Md. Wagner,
Though you may try and run and change your Austrian surname to a French name, you will never be able to hide from me. I send you proof through the boy, Conner, your youngest child. See now that he has no tongue and will never be able to speak again. This is the price of your disobedience; Should you try and run again, heaven help what will happen to your daughter. Belle is quite a fitting name; a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. And your elder boy, Lukas, we would hate to see him sent away to an insane asylum for not speaking and jabbering on in a language hardly anyone knows. To ensure their safety, I have added half again to your existing debt, which now comes to 550 francs. I shall await your next payment.
M. Jean Foss.
The letter was yellowed yet the ink was a black as it's soulless writer against the parchment. I took a step back, trying to understand why the boy had given this letter to us. Who was this sadistic man who held this poor family hostage by turning one boy mute and threatening the life of their only daughter. My fist tightened the more my mind brewed on the letter. I wanted to hang this man just like I did Joseph Bouquet…
"I don't understand, what does this letter have to do with Belle?" The boy stomped his foot, his elder brother crossing his arms as they shared the same, disgruntled look. He pointed to the page again, then to himself. Antoinette sat on his bed, patting the empty space next to her. "Come, show me what you mean." He slowly came to the woman's side and leaned over to see the letter. His eyes first went to the top of the letter, pointing to the word Wagner, then pointing to himself and his brother. Antoinette put her finger on the word. "This, this is your last name?" He smiled and nodded. The continued to read, then smiling as he pointed to Conner and then to himself. "And you are Conner?" He nodded and pointed to Lukas, and to his brother.
"Me…Lukas…" Lukas said in broken French. "Belle tell me…people say…in German…" His French worse than a child.
"So Belle would translate for your brother?" I asked. Conner nodded his head. He pointed to the word debt then looked up at Antoinette, then pointed to her.
"Me? What kind of debt do I have?" He shook his head, then pointed to all of us, Lukas first, then himself, then myself and Antoinette. "All of us? We have a debt?" He shook his head and hopped up, grabbing his brother by the hand. Then pointed to all of us again. Antoinette shook her head and rubbed her temples. I looked around, His brother, himself, but why point to us…? We didn't have any debts; we weren't his family… FAMILY!
"Family! It was your parents' debt wasn't it?" Conner perked up and nodded his head, running to my side and hugging my waist. I ruffled is thick brown hair. I feel a tap on my shoulder and see a piece of fresh parchment and a pencil hang over my shoulder. I turn back to see Lukas, a smile on his face.
"Conner… write…"
"Conner, can you write as well as read?" He nodded his head as I handed him the parchment and pencil. He began to write slowly, using his finger as a straight line. He handed the paper back, his writing neat for a 9 -year-old.
Father would go out at night to try and get us money, but would come home empty. Then one day I was walking home with Grandmother and someone grabbed me and cut my tongue out. They gave me the letter and told me to go home and give it to Mother and Father. Grandmother was scared. They read it and dropped it on the floor. I just kept it in case it might be important.
"Conner, where would this Foss man take your sister? Do you have any idea?" I was desperate to find her, to hold her and protect her from the evil in this world. The boy simply shrugged his shoulder. I slammed my hand on a table, making the boy jump. "YOU must know something!"
"Erik enough! You're frightening the poor boy." Antoinette spat as the took the boy in her motherly arms. "We will find her, don't you worry." I grumbled and looked away, they could be kilometers from here; long gone from my arms. I flew out of the room, voices calling to me. I didn't care nor was I in the mood to deal with people. I walked back to her room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her somehow; maybe find a clue as to where she was… Her bed had the covers pulled back to one side, the soft outline of her head on the pillow. My picture was next to her bed, a book placed behind it. I went to her wardrobe; either she changed while being taken or she never changed into her nightgown. All that was out of order was her shall on the floor, and her body not next to mine. I took the picture with me as I slid the mirror back into place. The passageway was darker than usual, the cold draft of winter air seeping through the walls. The water of the lake was higher than normal, and yet the boat dragged like it was shallow. I finally returned to my hideaway and fell to my piano; my only comfort and place of solace. I began to play the piece from the first night I met Belle, her picture sitting on top of my piano. For days on end this was where I stayed. I would play until I could not keep my eyes open, then try and rest; only to snap my eyes open when I would see her face. Antoinette tried to bring me something to eat, but would return the next day to find it in the exact spot she left it hardly touched.
"Erik please, you need to eat something. You're becoming more and more like the ghost people believe you to be." She set the plate of food next to my piano. I looked over at her, my eyes bloodshot and my face red. I had given up on wearing my mask. She put a hand to my arm, stopping my playing. "At least take a bath; you look like hell." How fitting; the Phantom of the Opera looking like his birthplace… I sighed and let her pull me to my bath tub, the sound of the soft running water almost deafening. She left me to change and clean up. The water did help ease some of the physical pain of playing non-stop for days now, but my heart and soul still ached for her. I stretched as I exited the claw-footed tub, my back popping more than usual. I pulled the towel Antoinette had draped over the screen and dried off, letting the cool air make goosebumps on my skin. I put on a fresh set of clothes and return to my piano. I sit at the bench and slowly try to force food down, each bite making me sicker than the last. I threw the plate to the wall and cursed my existence. I should have followed her! I should have stayed the night with her, anything! I run my hands through my midnight black hair as if to smooth back the swirling storm of emotions in my head. I look up to see the picture frame among the mess of parchment.
"My Belle…how could I lose you so quickly…" I close my eyes, letting my fingers trace over the design her hands made, nearly feeling her callused, tiny, hands beneath mine. Her laughter rang loudly in my ears, her smile lighting up the room. The tears fell like the snow outside, soft and slow.
"Oh Erik…my love…" I snap my head to the soft whisper at break neck speed. OH MY GOD IN HEAVEN! My whole body shook and felt weak as I scrambled to find a mask. "I don't care…you look fine to me…" The mask fell to the floor as my feet flew at the speed of Hermes. I gathered her in my arms, burring my face in her neck.
"Oh god I thought I lost you….my sweet Belle…" her embrace around me was weaker than I remembered. I pulled back, just wanting to drink in her presence. Her face was covered in a thin layer of dirt, mud entangling her once glossy and brilliant auburn hair. I softly brushed aside her hair, her eyes were dull and were half opened at best. "Mon ange, you are so pale, and so thin…what happened to you…?" She tried to utter a few words before going limp in my arms. I picked her up in my arms, holding her tight to me. I brought her to my bed, her wet dress clinging to her body, making every rib visible. What has this monster done to my love…? I lay her softly back into my bed, her body hardly making a dent in the mattress. I kiss her softly and leave a note and a rose by her bedside and hurry off to spread the good news of her return.
