A Way Home

Chapter 18 – One More Puzzle

"Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you/ Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new/ Flashback, warm nights...almost left behind/ Suitcase of memories...time after/ Sometimes you picture me, I'm walking too far ahead/ You're calling to me; I can't hear what you've said/ Then you say, "Go slow" I fall behind/ The second hand unwinds.../ If you're lost, you can look and you will find me/ Time after time/ If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting/ Time after time/ After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray/ Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm ok/ Secrets stolen from deep inside/ The drum beats out of time..."

- Time After Time, Spoken

-

After taking Erik aside and explaining to him the instructions that AM2 had given me before he had died, we both decided that I would follow them alone. Well, actually, I decided, and Erik grudgingly agreed because I threatened not to touch him for a whole month. He and I both knew that if someone from the Opera Populaire saw him, they'd freak, and then the police might show up.

However, we also decided to wait until the next day, as that day had been very tiring, and it was already very late. Everything was moving so fast that we decided to wait a little.

As I lay in bed with Erik beside me, waiting for morning to come, I thought back to what AM2 had said about the instructions. After giving them to me, he had said, "It's something that could alter everything that has happened since you found the manuscript." As I thought about this, I wondered if I even wanted to change what had happened. If I did, then I wouldn't exist in this time and space, and neither would Charity and Dominique. I couldn't imagine life without my two beautiful girls and my wonderful husband beside me. Such a thing was too difficult to comprehend.

I hadn't actually told Erik about the things that AM2 had said after he had given me the instructions. I didn't want Erik to freak out… I wanted to see what it was for myself. I had in inkling about what it might be, but I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure. I didn't want Erik to doubt me.

Once again, I couldn't sleep. But this time, I didn't get up and go to the window. Instead, I stayed in bed with my eyes closed, but not really sleeping, trying in vain to overcome my bout of insomnia by thinking about something else. But no matter what I tried to do to get my mind and body to calm down, nothing worked. So I finally gave up and went downstairs to the living room. Perhaps a change of scenery would help.

I tied my robe tighter around my waist and sat down on the couch. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to think of something else. Suddenly, the day's events seemed to overwhelm me, and my limbs felt so weak that I instantly fell asleep.

-

The next day, after waking late in the morning, I began to get ready for the trip. There was only one last puzzle to be solved, and then we could put this whole thing behind us. There would no longer be police coming up and knocking at our door early in the morning, or late in the evening, with reports of a masked man about Erik's height murdering people left, right, and center. It was a relief to finally be putting all that behind me.

"Can't I come along?" Erik asked as I tied the bow at the back of my green dress. He sounded like a little child who was begging his mother to go with her on a shopping trip.

I smiled briefly and shook my head. "No," I replied. "We've been over this, already. It's too dangerous for you to come. It could cause some misunderstandings that we don't want."

"At least let Philippe come with you," he insisted. "Just in case it's a trap."

I knew that if it was a trap, two people would never be a match for however many were supposedly lying in wait for us. Nevertheless, I agreed. "Fine," I said. "But I do all the talking.

Erik nodded and left to go ask Philippe if he was willing to go with me.

-

I sighed for the umpteenth time that day. So far, the owner of the Opera Populaire had refused to see me, let alone speak to me, and it was driving me crazy. He probably knew about my connection to Erik, and was therefore concerned that the Phantom of the Opera might return, looking for his next victim. But I didn't want to wait any longer. I had no idea when Danton would close his shop, and I wanted to get there as soon as possible.

I swore again, in English so no one would know what I was saying, and I slammed my fist onto the railing of the stone steps. I didn't the railing very hard, but I was sure that I had bruised something because my hand started to hurt like hell immediately afterwards.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Philippe asked after the fourth time of getting turned down.

"Fine," I said, thinking that there was no way he could do worse than me.

Philippe went over to the guard and spoke to him in a low voice. From what I gathered, it sounded as though they were just making small talk. After a few minutes, the guard let Philippe pass, leaving me to wait outside the building.

Ten minutes later, he returned, waving a small piece of paper triumphantly in the air. "I got it," he said, coming towards me.

"What is it?" I asked, snatching the paper from his fingers, almost tearing it.

"The directions to Danton le tailleur's place," he replied. "What else?"

I sighed again and read the directions carefully. They were pretty straightforward. I put the piece of paper in my pocket, and then started walking, with Philippe close behind.

-

We reached the shop just before about five o'clock in the afternoon. The shopkeeper was just locking up.

"S'il vous plaît," I began, knocking on the glass window set into the doorframe. "S'il vouse plaît, ouvrez le porte! Je besoin a parler avec M. Danton!" I knocked on the door again. "S'il vous plaît!"

I cursed again in English when the shopkeeper ignored me.

"May I?" Philippe asked, gesturing to the door.

"By all means," I replied, and let him pass.

He knocked on the door and said something in French that I couldn't catch. A few minutes later, the door was unlocked and Philippe was let in.

But this time, I refused to be left by myself, and I pushed past the shopkeeper before he had time to blink. "I am coming, too," I declared. "I am the one who has business with M. Danton, anyway."

Philippe said something to him in French so fast that I didn't quite catch it. I then realised how it felt to be older, and have all the young people talking so fast that you couldn't catch what they were saying.

Whatever Philippe had said, though, it seemed to calm the shopkeeper, and he led us to a set of stairs that wound to the second story of the building.

"M. Danton is a very busy man," the shopkeeper began. "I seriously doubt that he will enjoy having uninvited guests at this hour."

I swallowed, but kept up the appearance of calmness that I was trying to go for. I needed to get whatever it was that AM2 wanted me to have, and then go.

The shopkeeper led us into a small room that was at the top of the stairs. It had a bed in it, a table, two chairs, and small boudoir for clothes, as well as a dressing table with a mirror. Sitting at the table, looking over some papers with his glasses (they called them spectacles) sitting low on his nose was obviously M. Danton.

M. Danton was an impressive man with a handsome mustache and black hair that was obviously natural. I have always found it easy to tell when a man dyes his hair (like Erik does. He doesn't like the gray that his hair always has in it, so every now and then he dyes it), and I could tell that M. Danton did not. When he stood, the impressiveness ended there, because M. Danton was amusingly short.

A few minutes later, I learned, that wasn't the only thing that was amusing about him.

"Who are these people, Gaston?" M. Danton's voice was unusually high for a man, and it made him seem like a clown. I covered my mouth to hide my smile, and then I had to cough when he continued speaking because I didn't want to start laughing right in front of the man.

"Um," I began, "M. Danton, I am Rebecca, and this is Philippe. We are here because, well, uh…" I really felt uncomfortable saying what AM2 told me to say, but I had to do it. "We're here because Eric sent us," I said finally, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the name. It was because of the fact that AM2 had used it to try and get Erik away from me and the girls, and because that was not a kind thing to do. "He said you had a, erm, item for us?" I queried, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Hm," M. Danton mused, tapping his chin with his fingernail. "Yes, I believe I know what you mean." He turned to his shopkeeper. "Gaston, you may go. I shall call for you when our guests are ready to leave."

Gaston nodded, and, as he turned to the doorway, I saw his smile. So, I wasn't the only one who found M. Danton's voice amusing. I thought back to what the shopkeeper had said, and I realised that he had been making a joke when he had said that M. Danton wouldn't be happy about having visitors. It was next to impossible to imagine this man being angry.

As soon as Gaston had left, M. Danton sat back down at the table and stuck his fingers underneath it. A drawer popped out and my eyebrows went up in surprise. It was something I might have expected of someone other than M. Danton. Reaching a finger from his left hand into the drawer, M. Danton hooked his fingernail into a small crevice. It was hard to tell, but I saw him raise his fingernail slightly, lifting a thin sliver of wood to reveal a second hidden compartment. Once this one had been revealed, he stuck his unusually small hand deep inside the crevice and pulled out what he had been looking for.

As the light seeping through the one window caught the metal, I gasped at what it was: It was a time belt, as I had started calling them. It was exactly what I had thought it would be, and it still amazed me. This one, however, looked as though it had been given an upgrade of some sort. It still looked the same, but the covering it had made it seem almost lightweight, as though it was only made of fabric. But I could tell that it was metal underneath because of the sheen it gave off beside the buttons.

"This is what he was talking about, non?" M. Danton asked, holding it out.

Dumbly, I nodded, and I took the belt.

"What is it?" Philippe asked me.

"Let me give you a hint," I replied. "It can fix everything."

He gave me a confused expression. "Huh?" He asked, completely baffled.

"Nevermind." I shook my head. "I'll explain later."

I finally understood what AM2 had meant. I had suspected it already, but now I knew for sure how he had gotten here. And I knew what he had meant when he said it could change everything. He wanted a second chance, the second chance that he hadn't gotten because he had been hung for his crimes.

But I had another idea.

A/N: There's the next chapter. Two more chapters left, and then the series will be complete. Review, please, and let me know what you think! No flames, please.