"Explain to me again what happened?" Reza asked.
"He threw the peg box at me. Mama and I were too close for his liking."
"Good God."
Darius was stitching up my shoulder where Masson had bounced the peg box off me; Christine was whipping the patricidal toddler, and his howling had alarmed the rest of the household.
"I'm glad things are going well otherwise," Reza commented obliquely.
"Oh yes," I winced.
"Sorry, Mr Erik," Darius apologized.
"It's fine, Darius. Yes, that's sorted itself out beyond all expectation. One day she was ill, the next she'd gone insatiable on me," I wondered.
"Anci got like that as well," Darius grumbled. "It didn't last."
"What a blessing it is to be a bachelor," Reza smiled.
"Erik?" Christine bustled in, fretting.
"Don't look, Mrs Erik, you'll get queasy;" Darius warned. Too late.
"Oh, dear…" she wobbled. As usual, I caught her just in time.
"Well, gentlemen, would you have a look at what just landed in my lap," I chuckled.
Reza and Darius beat a hasty retreat, leaving me free to plunder Christine's ba-bas.
"Behave yourself," Christine giggled. "We're in the kitchen!"
"Where is the little fiend?"
"He's in the corner chair with a glowing bottom. I don't know what to do with him, Erik," she worried. "His temper…"
I surrendered to her maternal preoccupation and buttoned up her dress. "Right, well, after corner time we're going to have to discuss this, because it's all good and fine to try and brain me, but—"
"Yes, the baby; I know."
"Do you know why you had to sit in the corner chair, Son?"
"Mm. I threw my toy."
"And why is that bad?"
"Because you got hurt."
"Masson, I know that you don't want to share Mama with anyone, but you must. It's alright for Mama and Papa to be close, and it doesn't mean Mama doesn't love you if she cuddles me. Mama can love us both."
His lip stuck out.
"Don't make that face, Masson," Christine urged. "We don't hurt people when something upsets us. We find another way to feel better, such as by talking with Mama and Papa."
When Christine came downstairs for breakfast, she asked me where Masson was. I hadn't seen him yet that morning.
"He wasn't upstairs with you?"
Christine blanched. "Don't say that! Erik!"
I tore all over the house and garden calling for him. Soon, Reza, Darius, and Anci were searching as well. Christine was searching for, well, Christine.
He was gone, with my cape and his cat. When we finally realized he'd gone, Christine fainted. I put her to bed and went to the park while Reza contacted the authorities.
He was not in the park. I combed the zoo, but there are so many places for an angry little boy to hide. He's just like you, I kept thinking; how will you civilize him?
The ladies at the candy store had not seen him. I did not find him in the theater; but again, he could be anywhere in the opera house. It began to drizzle; I started to worry about exposure. I ran home to check on Christine.
"Hysterical," Reza advised. "I slipped a little something into her drink so she would sleep."
I nodded. "I have to get back out there; it's raining. I can't believe this, Reza; I can't believe it!"
I walked the streets for hours. I was soaked through and shivering, but my baby was smaller and colder.
I prayed; yes, I did, I promised anything. Anything. Just give me a sign, whatever you want me to do. Just give him back to us safe.
I ran back home again in case he'd turned up. Nothing. The authorities were useless; somehow I'd known that all along. Reza had to force me out bodily after I screamed at the hapless police that they'd take it more seriously if it were the Comte de Chagny's son missing.
I fell to accosting perfect strangers--I didn't care how badly I terrified them--and asking them if they'd seen a chubby boy carrying a boneless cat and dragging a cape behind him.
It was going to be dark soon. I went under the opera house to find dry clothes. I tucked a warm blanket under my coat for when I found the baby as well. I ran back upstairs. As I turned to move across the stage, I glimpsed those pretty golden ladies Masson loved so much.
"Brrrrow." Something brushed my leg and startled me.
"Christine? CHRISTINE! Where's Masson? Where's the boy, you stupid cat?"
Christine skittered offstage and upstairs. I gave chase and lost the bastard anyway.
"Christine…Christine? Christine, it's high time you came home for your liver, Darling. Where's the boy?"
"Brrrrow." Christine scampered up the main aisle. I dashed after him.
"Christine…Christine, wait. Oh, for God's sake, wait!"
He ducked across the aisle and ran back to me. When I came level with the aisle he'd run down, I saw my cape all crumpled up. I raced toward it, unable to tell whether the boy was inside or not from where I stood.
He was there…I fell to my knees and wept.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you…" I would keep my promise, I swore. Whatever it was, if I could get a sign, I'd do it.
I bundled Masson up into my arms, and he was warm and dry, thankfully. He must've come straight to the theater and played all day. I pressed tear-soaked lips all over his precious face.
"Papa," he sighed, throwing his arms around my neck.
"Let's get you home, Big Boy. Mama's been beside herself all day," I sniffed.