Time the Avenger
Mad Props to my new BETA Amy!
Re-cap: Erik locks Gabrielle in his carriage for the ride back to his manor after discovering her in a Paris music hall dressed as a man. He ain't a happy camper…
Ch 23 – Moving On.
I slumped into the corner of the carriage. My mind whirled madly, seeking for an exit strategy—any exit strategy that would get me out of this mess.
How could this happen? My plan was foolproof—go to Paris as a man, and enjoy the freedoms masculinity afforded. I was drowning in the nineteenth century. No phones, no lights, no motorcars, not a single luxury… I felt like freaking Gilligan, without the professor and his ingenious coconut-shell inventions.
Caron was right after all; Erik was odd. He seemed dangerous and volatile. For the first time since being birthed into this century, I was on the precipice of panic. Harkening back to the Leroux novel, I remembered that the book's Erik could be a man of servitude and devotion one moment, then of malice and cunning the next—a true psychotic. History showed that this was my preferred type of man.
The trip back to the manor was brief. Erik drove the horses at break neck speed. I imagined his goal was to arrive close to the same time as Caron.
The brougham made the familiar turn down the winding driveway to DuPuis manor. I knew zero hour was close at hand. I will not back down, I pledged to myself. Yes, I cared deeply for Erik, I adored him, and I empathized with his plight, but I would not succumb to his barbaric attitudes.
The conveyance stopped. Erik unlatched the door from outside; I sat inside the carriage staring at him, not moving. Damn it, I thought. He wants to run this show so badly, let him orchestrate the next move.
"Come Gabrielle," Erik commanded in an imposing voice, "We have arrived home, it is time to disembark."
I crossed my arms across my chest and glared at him, "Kiss my ass."
That threw Erik for a loop; he pursed his lips and stared at me, unsure of what to do next.
Without warning, I found myself being hauled out of the carriage's cab by my feet. I suppose he thought I would stand once outside. I'd covered many pro-life protests as a novice reporter in the South, and I knew how to stage a peaceful objection—go limp.
Erik became infuriated when he realized he would have to drag me into the house. "What in the blazes has gotten into you Gabrielle? Stand up now or I shall toss you over my shoulder and carry you in."
"Whatever, dude."
Exasperated by my insubordination and my lingo, Erik bent over me, reached around my body and picked me up off the ground. This time, I struggled fiercely, dislodging his mask.
This enraged him beyond comprehension; he pinned me to the earth with his knees and hands. "You hateful little viper you!"
"Ditto," I spat in his face. "Let go of me, you freak."
This earned me a pinch to the neck, the paralyzing, Mr. Spock kind.
I awoke in my bed. My hair had been brushed, my make-up and faux mustache removed, and I was wearing a soft flannel nightgown.
Had I dreamt the whole business? The morning was a perfect mirror of countless others, save for the trepidation in my soul. At that moment, Caron cautiously opened the door. "Gabrielle, you are awake," she said with surprise.
She rushed to my bedside, brimming with concern, "Are you alright? After Monsieur DuPuis sent me on my way last night, I was beside myself with concern for you. He was most angry."
"Oh, I'm alright, Caron," I reassured her. "Monsieur Dupuis thought it imprudent for me to put both of us in harm's way; that was his main concern when he discovered our clandestine plan. You needn't worry. It's all good, as they say." Why make her worry?
"I am so relieved," Caron said, touching my arm fondly.
"How are you? That's my concern," I asked.
"Tired, but no worse for the wear. Monsieur DuPuis kept his word and has not divulged our misbehavior to Mama or Papa."
"Misbehavior? Caron, we indulged in an excellent adventure, not a torrid crime, dear."
"I know, but being caught was so disquieting. Today is my last day here. Papa will be taking me to the train station this afternoon. Before I depart, I want you to know how much I have appreciated your companionship and your kindness, Gabrielle. Most women I know care only about what they can gain for themselves, but you are a true comrade. And last night…in spite of our tribulation, I enjoyed myself more than any other time I can remember. I will treasure our adventure always. It will be, as you say, something to tell my grandchildren about someday," she beamed with delight.
"You are a fine woman, Madame Spencer. Have a grand life, enjoy your husband and your children, be strong, and remember, it is your legal right to have orgasms. That law was passed three months ago, you know."
"Of course, Gabrielle," she blushed. I will be sure to insist my husband be as considerate of my needs as I am of his."
"There you go, girl," I encouraged.
We embraced warmly, and then she was gone.
Violent despair washed over me. My only girlfriend was gone, the man I was falling in love with was treating me like a caged animal, and I had nowhere to go. Erik and I did have one thing in common, we found ways to survive in the face of adversity, even if our methods were not always the most noble, but we managed to endure.
I would endure. Already résumés had been forwarded to publications in London and Paris; I was trolling for whatever writing assignments might be out there for women (or women under male pen names). It would still be another forty-five years before women won the right to vote in America, but freedoms in that country were considerable when compared to those in post Revolution France. Crossing the big pond was also an option.
I got out of bed to check the weather. From my window I noted frozen fields veiled by low clouds. If I dressed in four layers of clothing; underwear and long johns, chemise, bra, corset, two petticoats, two dresses and my scarf,gloves,and cloak, I wouldn't freeze. My mind made up, I packed my large shoulder bag with the IPOD, journal and various necessities.
I'll be damned if I am going to be the Phantom of the Opera's next victim. I didn't know what had gotten into Erik, but he was freaking me out big time. The thought occurred to me that I might not have a good grasp of what normal behavior was for a man of the 19th century. What if Erik wasn't acting so odd? What if he was reacting as any other Victorian era man might? I didn't care at this point. Besides, Erik was not any other man.
I waited until all members of the household had gathered in the back to bid Madame Spencer adieu, then crept out of the house from the side porch entrance. Quickly, I slipped into the thick woods.
With snow threatening, I was glad to have so many layers on. My plan was to follow a path through the woods to the main road, after which I would attempt to hail a ride from a benevolent passerby. I really hoped to make it to London, since speaking English and understanding the British entertainment scene would be easier for me.
I had saved a considerable amount of money from my earnings at the manor, so I was certain to survive comfortably in a boarding house for the next three or four months.
Hours passed before I finally hiked my way to the far side of the woods, and onto the main road. My luggage was becoming cumbersome, so I stopped for a rest. The cheese and bread I'd brought along helped revive me. After a while, I stood, stretched, and resumed my trek.
Dark was coming quickly; I would soon have to enter the dense woods again and look for a pine tree to make a pallet under for the night.
Behind me a coach was approaching. Could good fortune finally be smiling upon me? I turned to wave the vehicle down. The impending dusk made it difficult for me to see the driver's face clearly.
As the carriage neared, a chill wriggled up my spine. I knew those horses, Sophie and Dante. Good lord, it was Erik. Before I had a chance to flee into the woods, he called out to me, "Gabrielle, please, don't run from me, I will not harm you."
"Go away!" I screamed like a banshee, picking up my pace.
He pulled up along side me as I walked, "Gabrielle, listen to me. I realize that my handling of your foolishness was harsh and I regret it. I know not how to deal with women; I've little experience in matters concerning the fairer sex."
"Yes, well Erik, you handled me as if I were a possession, a thing. I am not anyone's possession; I am not an object; I am a human being and I deserve the same respect and freedom as any other human being. You may choose to hide in your misery Monsieur, but I, refuse."
"Please, I am trying to understand. Won't you indulge me in conversation?"
"Go away, Erik," In my mind, it was too late for explanations.
He ignored my request and continued to shadow me. "When I returned from London yesterday and found the hotel confirmation, I was confused. Then you were not to be found at the Giry's, or the hotel, I feared the worst—that someone had abducted the two of you, or worse, that you had returned to your…to your time. I searched all night before finding you on stage, at the Alcazar. Why did you do it, Gabrielle?"
"Which part of the scenario confuses you, Erik? Is it the dressing like a man part, or leaving the house? I know you cannot comprehend why I might wish to spend my leisure time singing, drinking wine, and dancing rather than sitting on my ass in the house doing needlepoint or making lace."
"I am not blind to your unrest, but you cannot run the streets of Paris without a male escort, it is improper and dangerous! What if someone had discovered you weren't a man? Who knows what sort of horrors you could have been subjected to Gabrielle?"
"Oh, and I suppose you will offer to escort me anywhereI want to go?"
"Gabrielle, darling, you know such a thing is not possible for me."
I stopped walking and faced the carriage. Erik's eyes were red and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days. That's what you get for chasing me all over Paris, I thought.
"Bull doo, Erik, you could do so if you wished. You go shopping and you meet with clients. Why not go to a restaurant or the opera one evening? Who gives a whit if they stare at your mask?
This earned me ascowl.
"I never told you about the big purple birthmark I had on my face when I was a child. Fortunately, in my time, such defects can be surgically removed. In grammar school other kids called me kool-aid face—it was a fruit drink that would stain your skin. Anyway, the birthmark, along with one brown and one green eye, made me a bully magnet. Don't tell me I don't know how it feels to be ridiculed. I hated it, but I wouldn't let it keep me from going to the movies and concerts and other public events."
He shook his head at me, "You do not understand. It is different with me, Gabrielle. I cannot partake of activities enjoyed by others. That is why I remain reclusive."
"Well I'm not a recluse, and I refuse to be your means of personal entertainment, Erik," I huffed.
"Is that what you think, that I have you around for my pleasure? What an absurd charge, mademoiselle, While I do enjoy your company, I do not consider you my plaything!" he raged.
"We'd spent a night and a morning of intimacy together. I allowed myself to believe you had certain feelings for me, Erik."
"Gabrielle," he continued pensively, "can you not tell that I do?"
"That explains why you didn't tell me good-bye when you left for London."
"I looked for you, but when I could not find you, I assumed you must be occupied elsewhere, so I left. Is that improper?" He honestly sounded perplexed.
"What do you think?"
"Woman, you try my patience." He sighed wearily, pulled the horses to stop, and began climbing down from the driver's seat.
"Leave me alone!" I screeched. Without looking back, I slung the bag over my shoulder and dashed into the woods, running as if I were a stalked animal.
Frantically, I shot through the deep brush. Darkness was coming, making it hard to see more than shadows and small threads of light through the trees. From the forms to my left, I could tell there was a grove of white pines. It would be easy for me to crawl under one and hide in its dense limbs.
While sliding under one of the trees, my skirt caught on something. Wretched dresses. Fabric ripped when I yanked on the garment. No time for vanity now. I gathered the skirt up and tied a knot in the hem. Carefully, I climbed the branches of the tree until I was just far enough to be above my pursuer's head.
Stop shaking, Gab, I told myself as I perched precariously on two large pine branches, holding onto the tree's sticky trunk. The woods were abnormally quiet, as is usually the way right after sunset. Ever so slightly, I heard dry leaves being crushed under foot. From what I could tell, Erik was about five feet from the tree. I willed my body to cease trembling. I did not want to be found.
How could I return now? His precarious nature frightened me. It was difficult to predict what reaction I would be met with when I did or said something that was beyond Erik's emotional grasp.
Once more I heard leaves crunching. He moved farther away from my post until I could hear him no more. Tonight I would sleep in the arms of my indigenous shelter. It protected me from the cold, and provided a soft bed of pine needles to sleep on. Not exactly a five star hotel, but it would have to suffice for tonight.
- O -
Since authors are being reprimanded for mentioning reviewers by name here, let me just say thanks to those of you who bother to review—It makes writing more of a pleasure to hear from you. Thank you for reading. Those who are worried about a bad Erik, he's not bad, just confused. Keep reading…
- Leesa