A/N: No reviews for the last chapter? Hmmm. Have I frightened you all away? I know that there are more than five or six of you reading, so please, give me feedback! Pretty please?
Chapter Ten
Father Michel had retired to the bedroom for the night and Erik was seated on the settee in his nightclothes, leafing through the pages of "Much Ado About Nothing" once again. I had might as well read…I'm not likely to get any decent sleep on this dreadful piece of furniture anyhow. Erik read for what seemed like hours, and laughed loudly at certain points of the play. He had not laughed quite like that in…years? He couldn't remember if he had ever laughed so heartily. He was amazed at the quick wit and banter between the characters. He found it interesting that Signior Benedick, who had sworn never to marry, would fall in love with Beatrice, who had never yet found a man worthy of her…and that he would challenge one of his closest friends to prove his love for her. All of this was achieved through means of good-natured trickery by mutual friends. Perhaps if I had some well-meaning friends, Christine could have been persuaded to love me as well...no matter how boorish I am, he thought. Then he scowled in annoyance. Why must every subject always come full circle back to her? He sighed, slammed the book closed, and set it on the floor. He leaned back on the settee, placing his hands behind his head.
Erik thought back upon how the day had progressed. He was excited at the prospect of employment with this architectural firm in Melun, but he did not know how the details would work out if he were to be employed by them. He would simply have to make it clear to them that they must work to accommodate him, and not the other way around. After all, would they really want a freak of nature coming to work in their offices every day? He chuckled slightly. No, I am certain that they will allow me to work from home…especially once they have seen me in the flesh. He had been a bit taken aback when Monsieur Laurent had suggested that he interview for a job…and he had realized about halfway through the evening that no one had asked him about his mask--or even looked askew at it. Perhaps Father Michel is correct…perhaps all of these occurrences of late have not been mistakes.
Erik was busy studying the ceiling when he heard Amêlie singing in his head. Why had she chosen that particular piece of music? Likely only because it is her favorite, he thought. But why does she favor something that so clearly conveys such suffering and pain? Is it because she has suffered from her disability?
"Because of His great love for us, He did all of this, and for no other reason." Erik recalled the words that Father Michel had spoken to him just days ago. "That's it!" Erik spoke aloud. She loves that music because His suffering was for her…and…for…. He sighed, exasperated. I just cannot seem to get away from all of this, can I? he questioned. "Fine, I will do this much," he spoke in the direction of the ceiling. "I will give You a chance…if I obtain this position, I will know that You have been listening and that You truly have some sort of plan for me…and that You are in control of things somehow. But if not, then I want You to leave me alone!" Erik nearly shouted. He hoped that he hadn't awakened Father Michel. The last thing he needed was for the old priest to overhear this "deal" that he had made with the Almighty.
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Father Michel had left for his church early that morning, shortly after Erik had awakened. Erik was surprised that he had finally succumbed to a broken sleep, even if only for a few hours. Yet those few hours had been continually interrupted with horrific nightmares, and he awoke in a cold sweat more than once.
His interview with Monsieur Giroux took place in the late afternoon at three o'clock. As tired as he was, he had felt a surge of energy during his interview when he showed Monsieur Giroux examples of what he could do. The man had smiled and nodded, clearly impressed. Erik was there for a good hour, drawing and answering the myriad of questions being asked. Finally, Monsieur Giroux had extended his hand to Erik. "The job is yours, if you want it."
"Thank you, Monsieur. I do," Erik replied, returning his handshake. He was again greatly surprised that the man had made no mention of his mask--although he got several strange looks from others in the office. "But I require one thing of you…I wish to work from home and send my designs to you by messenger. I believe it would be more…comfortable…for everyone involved." Erik studied the man's face, waiting for his reaction.
Monsieur Giroux rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Very well. I suppose you may be right, Monsieur Erik. I believe you will be a great asset to this firm. I thank you for your willingness to come in on such short notice."
"It was not a problem," Erik replied honestly.
"By the way, there is the matter of payment…shall I send your salary to the Laurent estate or elsewhere?" the man asked.
"I will have my financial advisor contact you," Erik said, placing his fedora upon his head. "His name is Renault. You should hear from him shortly, and he will instruct you as to where the funds should be sent."
"Very well, then. I do have one more question…if I am to make payments in your name, Monsieur, then…I…I'm afraid I do not know your surname," Monsieur Giroux eyed Erik a bit warily.
Erik cleared his throat. Curiosity killed the cat, Monsieur. "As I said, Monsieur Renault will contact you with all of the information you will need. Good day to you, Monsieur."
Monsieur Giroux was surprised at Erik's abruptness. "Good day. I shall send the newest projects to the Laurent house for you by messenger," he said, extending his hand to Erik again as Erik grasped it firmly. He then nodded at his new employer, lowered his fedora over the right side of his face, and turned swiftly on his heel to return home.
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Erik was alone in the carriage on the ride home, and he was glad…for the moment that he had seated himself inside and it had begun its journey homeward, his tension was released in a steady stream of tears and muffled sobs. He pulled the dark carriage curtains closed. He was in absolute disbelief…I have a job, he thought, like any normal man. I will be earning my living through honest means. As he wept, he felt an unfamiliar twinge in his belly…hope. "Thank You," he whispered to his unseen Benefactor, "Thank You."
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Erik tossed his fedora on the settee upon entering the small guest house and felt his stomach rumble. He stepped into the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove, stoking the fire beneath it. He opened the cabinets for the first time and noticed that they were fully stocked with food. Finding some bread and cheese, he decided to have a light snack before the evening meal. He had again been invited to dine at the main house with the Laurents and found himself actually looking forward to it.
He settled himself at the small, wooden table in the kitchen and served himself. The house was completely silent, and he realized that he was actually missing the company of the old priest. Who would have ever thought that the Phantom and a man of the cloth would share anything in common…let alone initiate a friendship? He shook his head and finished his food and tea, listening only to the sound of his own chewing.
Erik missed his violin and his organ. He felt utterly bored in this place, though he was grateful to have a place to call "home" again. What is there to do around here? he wondered. He stood from the table and walked outside. In the distance, he could see a small row of wooden buildings. It is over an hour yet until supper, he thought. A walk outdoors would be…a welcome change of scenery, I suppose. He smiled to himself, not believing that he was actually walking outdoors, feeling the cool breeze upon his face and arms. All that I have missed because of this…He touched his mask instinctively and sighed. Most people would take this for granted...walking outdoors in freedom with no one staring at them…feeling as though they were finally free. He came closer to the buildings and saw movement around them. At first he was startled, but then he chuckled to himself as he realized what the movements were…horses. Not since his time in Persia had he been around horses in the open. The ones in the opera house were lovely, but there is nothing like watching a horse run free outside, the wind blowing through its coarse mane, he thought fondly.
Erik had always had a way with animals…cats and horses being his favorites. He hadn't realized how much more lonely he had been without their presence in his life…until now. He slowly approached one of the horses, a black mare that had been observing him for a few moments. Erik could see that she was a proud horse—suspicious, and appearing quite menacing due to her dark exterior. Much like myself, he thought. As he drew nearer, he clucked softly with his tongue and the horse whinnied. He held out his right hand and stroked the horse's neck. She did not pull away in fear, but rather ceased her fidgeting and stood very still, listening to the sound of Erik's voice as he whispered to her.
Suddenly, a short, plump man appeared from within the stables. "Ah! You must be the gentleman living at the guest house!" He extended his hand to Erik. "I am Jacques," he said. "I am the caretaker for these beauties here."
Erik grasped the man's hand firmly. "Erik," he replied. "What can you tell me about this particular horse?" he asked, stroking the mare gently.
"Ah, she can be a wild one," Jacques chuckled. "Her name is 'Baptême du Feu', Monsieur. If you should ever attempt to ride her, you will understand why." He shook his head. "Threw me off the first time I tried…and the second, and the third…and after that, I gave up!"
"Does she have a saddle?" Erik asked.
Jacques looked at him, stunned. "You're not seriously going to ride her, are you, Monsieur? You could be killed!"
Erik laughed darkly. "Well, then the world shall finally be rid of me. Now…her tack?"
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Jacques looked as though he were going to faint. Erik had put all of the equipment on the horse and had effortlessly ridden her around the stables. He spoke softly to the mare the entire time, and Jacques thought that Erik must have used some sort of magic to subdue the horse. "As I live and breathe!" Jacques said, crossing himself. Erik laughed aloud again, for the second time in two days. He felt a smile cross his countenance. He gently dug his heels into the mare and she picked up speed, racing across the field toward a clump of trees. Erik felt the wind blowing about him and experienced a sensation of joy that he had not known since he had been in the presence of another painfully beautiful lady…Christine.