Author's Note: Okay, a little late, but technically, I finished this around midnight so It's kind of was done for November 1st. Meanwhile, when I was researching Day of the Dead last year, I stumbled across this little bit about the Mexican people putting on a play about Don Juan and I knew this story was meant to be. So the short bit from the play isn't mine, but Senor Molina's. Enjoy!
peace, love and lipgloss,
Mlle.Fox
November 1st, 1876
Imogene and Mortimer Fairfield were sitting in their parlor, enjoying the evening. Mortimer was sitting in his favorite chair, reading the evening paper, while his wife bustled about, dusting everything and pulling things out of crates and placing them around the room. Suddenly, Erik burst into the room, his tall frame engulfing the doorway as he barked,
"I can't do it! I won't!"
"Won't do what?" Mortimer asked confused. Imogene turned to him and explained knowingly,
"The play. He doesn't want to play Don Juan."
"Can you blame me? I played Don Juan before and that was a total disaster!" Erik exclaimed beginning to pace.
"Oh, but Erik dear, this version is so much different!" Imogene said trying to match his steps with her petite legs. Thinking it was like watching a toy poodle try to keep up with a Great Dane, Mortimer commented folding his paper,
"Especially since your version of Don Juan sent a chandelier crashing to the audience below."
"Mortimer!" scolded Imogene. Erik stopped his pacing and flopped into a chair opposite Mortimer. He said dejectedly,
"He's right. Last time...last time I played Don Juan just so I could take Christine...Being in this play brings back so many bad memories...Memories that remind me I'm a monster..."
"Now you stop that foolish talk! Erik, you made a mistake. A horrible mistake. One of many. But if this play has anything to teach you it's this...God forgives...no matter what you have done." Imogene pleaded, raising his face to look up at her with her small delicate hands.
"She's right Son. But getting forgiveness from God is easy. It's forgiving yourself that's the most painful process of all." Mortimer said standing and putting a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder.
Erik woke up just as he had begun to cry in Imogene's apron. Wiping off some stray tears, Erik felt the eerie touch of Mortimer Fairfield still on his shoulder. He rubbed the spot and crawled out of bed. He had returned home from the party a little after two in the morning...and he wasn't the last to leave. He did so because he knew he would have to spend the morning memorizing lines for the play tonight. With his memory, it was child's play. That did not mean he was looking forward to it. But this latest dream about the Fairfields had, in a way, comforted him about it. That still did not explain to Erik how his untouched and boxed up possessions had been put up and the house clean. Looking from room to room as he adjusted his cravat that morning, Erik found every inch of the house neat, tidy and unpacked. Like he had lived there for years. And there was fresh bread by freshly lit candles on the alter that morning. Shaking his head and throwing on his coat, Erik sat down for breakfast, the script in hand, ready to learn how to play the famous rake of Seville.
Meanwhile, Alejandro Garcia was mulling over his hangover cure in the local saloon. He was sitting in a corner and scowling. Everyone was talking about that Frog. That stupid Frog that had enraptured Manuela with those silly tricks of his last night. He had to get rid of this Erik Bordeaux once and for all. But how?
Then, Alejandro got a wicked idea. An idea that just had to work.
"Do you really think Senor Bordeaux can learn all those lines by tonight Manuela?" Pedro asked holding the basket of flowers for her. On the stepladder on the makeshift stage, Manuela took a bright yellow marigold from him and wove it into the garland draping around the stage,
"Well...at this point Pedro...I would not be surprised."
"Is it true what Sister Sarah Elizabeth says? That you're going to marry Senor Bordeaux?" Pedro asked.
"Shush! Pedro! Whatever put that idea in my head? ...Uh...Your head..." Manuela said correcting herself with a blush.
"Oh brother!" Pedro said with a roll of his eyes. Watching from the makeshift auditorium, Crawford sat by Sister Sarah Elizabeth, his sprained ankle propped up in a chair before him. He said to the nun,
"You know Sister, I think this cockamamie scheme of Manny's might actually work. That Bordeaux bloke is hooked."
"Mr. Crawford, we shouldn't speak of others. That's gossip." Sister Sarah Elizabeth said disapprovingly.
"Your point?" Crawford asked evenly. Just before she retorted, Father Rodriguez announced,
"Alright everyone, we should be able to begin."
"No we won't Padre...Our star ain't here yet." Crawford said.
"Yes he is! Here he comes now!" Pedro exclaimed pointing the appointing figure of Erik. Manuela's smile faded a bit as she noticed the solemn look on Erik's face. She sighed in aggravation. He had looked so happy last night. Now what had happened?
"I apologize Father...I was...caught up reading my lines." Erik said to Father Rodriguez.
"It's quite alright. Places everyone!" Father Rodriguez declared. The rest of rehearsal went fine. Erik knew every line, every cue, every emotion to play, which astounded Manuela. That is until they decided to rehearse the love scene. That was when Erik began to stutter and sweat. Manuela couldn't figure it out. She was playing the beautiful and pious Donna Ines, the lady who reforms Don Juan at the sake of her immortal soul. Manuela had thought it would be a perfect way to indirectly detect Erik's true passions. But he was being anything but passionate. And it annoyed her.
Finally, the priest suggested a break, which Erik took immediate advantage of, ducking behind the curtains. But Manuela wasn't letting him off that easy. She followed him into the shadows at once. But she stopped short when she found no one there. She turned around in circles trying to figure out where he had gone. Completely frustrated, Manuela blew a strand of hair out of her face and called out,
"Erik! Erik I know you're here! The back stage area is only the size of a broom closet for Pity's sake! Please, Erik...come talk to me."
She was met with silence and Manuela began to feel foolish. Perhaps he had merely come through here and left. Leaving her speaking to thin air. But her fears were allayed when a soft baritone spoke in the stillness,
"That's the first time you've called me by my Christian name."
Trying to find him, Manuela replied,
"I think we've flirted enough to be past formalities."
"I've never meant to over step my boundaries, Mam'selle." Erik said pleadingly from wherever he was.
"And when did I create these boundaries, Monsieur?" Manuela asked still searching for a figure to go with his disembodied voice. Peeking down at her from the small set of flies above her head, Erik sighed and softly said,
"The moment you looked at me with those beautiful eyes of yours..."
Blushing at his compliment, Manuela asked,
"And what pray tell, leaves you to think that just because I'm pretty that you are beyond reach?"
"You're beautiful, not pretty...and women like you have always been beyond my reach." Erik told her leaning against the railings. Picking up her skirts and sitting on a crate, Manuela said,
"I see...So not trying to sound jealous, who was the beautiful woman that tried to keep you at arm's length?"
Erik hesitated...then simply said,
"Her name was Christine Daae..."
"Daae? That name sounds familiar...I remember Papa reading about this scandal in Paris that involved an opera singer named..." Manuela stopped cold as realization set in and she put two and two together. Closing his eyes to block out the tears that threaten to fall, Erik stated,
"Do you realize who I am now?"
"Oh...so that's why you left France..."was all Manuela could say. Erik began to pace on the flies, the creaks of the wood telling Manuela where he was.
"So now you know...I'm a monster, Manuela...A monster who tried to pretend to be Don Juan before...and failed miserably. "
"Is this why you were upset at rehearsal? Bad memories?" Manuela asked, still to stunned to ask the important questions.
"Partly...mostly because this play...this play gives me a hope I don't dare live for...That even a demon could find love and forgiveness from God." Erik spat, self loathing at it's peak."
Manuela stood in outrage,
"That's enough! Don't you understand? That's what this play is trying to teach! That's why we perform it every year! When Don Juan is told he's to die by his loved ones who have pasted on, he is urged to repent and turn to God before it is too late! Erik, please...I don't care who you use to be...All that matters is the man you decide to let God make you. Please Erik...before it's too late..."
She was met with more silence, and she truly thought she had lost him, when suddenly she heard a board creak to her right, and when she turned her head there he was. Tears softly rolling down his face, Erik whispered,
"You...you don't care?"
"As long as that monster died in that fire in Paris and the man escaped with God's grace...than no...I don't care." Manuela reassured him with a gentle smile. Erik stepped forward, and then took the hand she had to her side. He held it in his own, her small hand looking childlike against his long fingertips. He put her palm up to his face and held it there, breathing her in, revealing in the softness of her skin. With one breath he asked,
"Why?"
Manuela shrugged,
"You are fascinated with my talk of Home Economics...I've never met a man who thought I was more than a pretty face or a good investment for his place in society. You call yourself a monster. How is it I feel so safe around you then? And you know you're the only man who challenges me to be a better woman? For lately, I'm finding myself more in prayer and more in God while I've known you. If that's not a sign we belong in each others lives...I don't know what then."
They were silent a moment or two, then they heard Father Rodriguez call out,
"Erik! Manuela! We are ready for you!"
Opening his eyes, he gazed into her gentle face and sighed,
"We must return."
"Come." Manuela said, pulling him along. They stepped out into the sunlight again, hand in hand. Crawford elbowed Sister Sarah Elizabeth with a smirk, Pedro rolled his eyes and Father Rodriquez nodded with a knowing smile,
"We'll pick up from your line Erik, 'Oh, my loveliest Ines..."
Nodding, Erik began,
"Oh, my loveliest Inés..."
"Oh, my loveliest Inés; mirror and light of vision. Listen without derision, as you do so, it's love: yes, see here at your feet. I confess all the haughty pride of this traitorous heart inside , that never thought to yield, adores you, my life. Ah, I feel the slavery of your love." Erik said that evening after the sun had set and the curtain had gone up. They were well into the play now, and Heaven's Corner was captivated by they're newest Don Juan. Almost as captivated as their Dona Ines. Manuela recited her lines next, but she meant every word and hoped her eyes told Erik as much.
"Oh God! Silence! How can I stand to resist, with my sighing, any longer, without dying, ah, such longing, Don Juan? Ah, to silence, for pity's sake, turn, for hearing you seems to me to bring my mind infirmity, and cause my heart to burn. Ah! You have doubtless given me an infernal potion, oh some that helps you overcome a woman's purity." She turned back and gazed at Erik's piercing stare, "Perhaps, Don Juan, you possess an amulet; a thing of mystery that draws me secretly, like an irresistible magnet. Perhaps Satan set in your eyes his fascinating gaze, his seductive maze of words, and the Love he denies to God. Ah, what am I to do, but fall into those two arms, if you continue to me shatter my heart in two? No, Don Juan, it's no longer in me to own the power to resist you. I turn to you as the river flows that runs down to the sea. Your presence maddens me, your words hypnotize me, and your eyes fascinate me, and your breath envenoms me. Don Juan, I implore you in your noble heart, of pity either tear my heart from me or love me, because I adore you.
Maybe God had meant for Erik to play this part, for he meant every word that he said back to Manuela,
"My soul! Those words indeed change my whole state of being. and I know perhaps I am seeing Paradise open to me. Doña Inés, it is not Satan, in sin, who creates this love in me: It is God, who wants, perhaps through you, to win me to Him. No, the love that is precious mortal in my heart, that is mortal, is not that love, that up to now I've treasured, nor is it a fleeting spark of need that a breath of wind defeats it is a roaring fire that eats all it sees, in its vast greed. Calm then your fears, my most beautiful Inés, for at your feet I feel that, yes, even I am filled with virtue. Ah, I will swallow my pride before the good Comendador and he'll either give me you to adore or death will be my bride.
"My dearest Don Juan!" Manuela said moving into his embrace just as they rehearsed. But looking into her eyes, Erik improvised something that had the stage manager Sister Sarah Elizabeth thumbing through her script. Without warning and without thought, he kissed her. Of course to the audience it looked like part of the show. But Manuela was reeling. It was her first kiss, and oh, she was so glad it was Erik. For he was gentle but strong, needing but giving. He held her flush against his strong form, and soon thoughts other than the play were racing through her head and through her blood.
But Sister Sarah Elizabeth was panicing. In desperation, she threw a pebble at Erik's feet. Remember the play, Erik broke the kiss, immediately resuming his character,
"Silence. Did you hear?"
Still stunned, Manuela wasn't acting when she asked,
"What?"
Later at the fiesta, the music was just as lively at the night before, but there were twice as many stars. And that was just in Manuela's costume. She had changed into a gown of midnight blue, encrusted with crystals and embroidered with fine silver stars. On her head she wore a crown shaped like stars. She was a Princess of the Night, and Erik thought she couldn't look more beautiful. Erik on the other hand stayed in his costume that he wore for the play, and as a result, had more and more people come up to him and tell him what a splendid job he did. Not used to such attention, Erik was very researved, but by the end of the night one could tell he was beginning to get used to talking to people. Erik was actually beginning to feel at home. And it didn't hurt that Manuela stayed by his side. At one point, Manuela disappeared into the crowd a moment, leaving Erik to chat with the Bennetts, who were engaging him in a conversation about the writings of Mr. Samuel Clemens, their family friend. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Erik turned to find Manuela smirking up at him, her arms behind her back.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth."
Raising an eyebrow, Erik said cheekily,
"You sure you wouldn't like to do this in a dark corner somewhere? We'd have more privacy. Even thought all of Heaven's Corner knows what we'll be up to."
"Very droll...Now shut up and do what you're told."
Erik complied, and Manuela held something up to his lips.
"Now take a bite."
Erik bit down, finding his mouth puckering slightly at the sweetness of icing and pure sugar that exploded in his mouth. Opening his mouth, and trying to swallow before he spoke, Erik said,
"That was almost too sweet even for my standards. What was that?"
Manuela coyly held up the treat, a grinning skull formed out of sugar and decorated with various icings. And across the forehead, it read, "ERIK".
"See, it has your name all over it." Manuela quipped.
"Ha ha...Now who's being droll?" Erik asked gathering her in his arms and sweeping her out to the dance floor. Seeing their daughter laugh and sway with the newcomer to the romantic music in the air, Donna Marie sighed happily to her husband,
"I can't believe our baby is in love."
Distracted from his subtle attempts to spike the punch bowl with his flask, Don Ricardo furrowed his brow and asked,
"Love? Are you sure?"
Maria rolled her eyes and sighed. She pointed to the dance floor and their daughter who was locked in Erik's gaze.
"Look Ricardo..."
Amazed, Don Ricardo said,
"Well...past the salt...I'm going to have my shoes medium well done!"
Maria Montevilla laughed at her husband's joke as the dancing continued, and as Manuela and Erik felt themselves falling deeper into each others eyes.