Author's Note: I'm finished! I finished a story! It's a Halloween miracle!
peace,love and lipgloss,
Mlle.Fox
November 2nd, 1876
Erik stepped out onto his porch for a little night air, only to find it was broad daylight and his once messy front yard was cleaned up and looking fresh and new. He turned his head and smiled when he saw the Fairfields pruning one of his overgrown marigold bushes down to size, even replanting some of the flowers, roots and all into flower pots. Imogene looked up and smiled at him, she put down her gardening tools and stood to her feet,
"There he is! There is our Don Juan! Bravo! Bravo!"
Laughing at the older woman's enthusiasm, Erik gave a slight bow while Mortimer commented,
"And apparently some of that chemistry onstage translated to offstage as well."
Erik merely smiled as he remembered that he and Manuela had snuck off at one point during the evening fiesta, after prayers had been said for those who died before they knew Christ. They had walked under the night sky, hand in hand, talking animatedly about the cotton press. Erik was fascinated with the mechanics, Manuela went on and on about the ramifications and as an example, she cited how it brought about the recent Civil War between the states. Their talks had brought them all the way to the vineyards, where silence began to fall between them. But their eyes told each other what their words could not. Erik was about to be bold enough to ask for another kiss, when Manuela wrapped her arms around his neck and answered his question for him.
Erik sighed remembering how intoxicating Manuela's kisses had been. Then, realizing he was not alone, Erik cleared his throat and said to the waiting Fairfeilds,
"Yes well...Mlle. Montevilla and I had a very pleasant evening."
"He's not going to tell us is he?" Imogene asked her husband with a pout.
" Genie, ol'girl, sometimes things are best left unsaid." Mortimer said giving Erik a playful wink.
Erik jolted awake when he heard a distant rooster crow. The sunlight was beaming in through the open curtains of his music room. He had sat at his desk upon returning home, too excited to sleep. With a pen and paper he had wrote Manuela a poem, though it was more of a sonnet. Reading it now, Erik laughed aloud. It was the worst thing he had ever written. And he didn't care. For once, something meant more to him in his life than his art or even his music. He stretched as he stood, his back popping and cracking in protest after having fallen asleep at his desk.
Remembering the Montevillas had invited him over for breakfast, Erik began to go upstairs to dress and freshen up, when he paused upon seeing fresh marigolds placed on the alter in his dining room, right next to the freshly baked bread and jam. Compelled to go outside, Erik stepped onto his porch and saw his garden neat and tidy. Confusion settled in on Erik's brow as a wind chime twinkled in the chilled November wind.
"I'm never going to get this thing done!" Pedro exclaimed as he sat on Crawford's bed that morning. They were amusing themselves by making ojos de Dios, or "eyes of God". A simple craft of weaving colorful yarn around two crossed sticks, Crawford found it easy and told Pedro so,
"Ah come on Pedro, it takes a while to make something beautiful or well crafted. I once heard about this lady writer who took a whole year to finish a short story she wrote!"
"Did that writer have to fight tangles?" Pedro said holding up his mess of yarn. Bringing in a tray of breakfast, Sister Sarah Elizabeth smiled and said,
"Here you go...nice and hot."
"Thanks Sister." Crawford said giving the young nun a wink as he took a bite out of his bread. Sister Sarah Elizabeth blushed and nodded her head, leaving the room once more. Crawford shook his head and said lamentably,
"Why are all the cute ones married or nuns?"
"She's not going to be a nun for much longer." Pedro told him. Crawford looked at him confused,
"Say again?"
"I heard her talking to Padre about it. She's going to leave the church." Pedro said.
"Hold on!" Crawford said hopping to his feet. Grabbing his crutch, Crawford went out the door and caught up with Sister Sarah Elizabeth yelling,
"Sister! Sister wait up!"
"Mister Crawford! You should be in bed!" scolded Sister Sarah Elizabeth. Out of breath, Crawford ignored her question and asked,
"You're leaving the church?"
"Well, yes. How did you hear...Oh...Pedro!" she said rolling her eyes.
"What for?" Crawford asked.
"After a great deal of prayer, I realized God wishes me into a different calling." Sister Sarah Elizabeth said.
"What's that?" Crawford asked.
"A wife." she said. Crawford nodded,
"Ah...yeah that would be kinda hard to do while being a nun an' all..."
"I'm a little scared...the church is all I've ever known." Sarah Elizabeth said.
"So...who's the lucky fella?" asked Crawford. She shrugged and smiled,
"I don't know."
Crawford narrowed his brow, he asked,
"You're getting married without a groom?"
"Well I'm not getting married yet...I just...I know I want to get married, but I must leave the church to do so. Even if I never meet anybody, a desire to get married would not make me a very good nun."
"How true. Well, good luck Sister. And don't fret. I have a feeling you'll find your Prince Charming soon enough." Crawford said.
"Thank you Mister Crawford." Sarah Elizabeth said turning to return to her duties, not seeing Crawford pump his arm with victory. She looked back and he stood nonchalantly and smiled at her polite nod and then she turned the corner and giggled.
Don Richardo sat in his chair in the parlor, chewing on a pencil. Donna Maria came in and exclaimed,
"Honestly Ricardo you have been in that chair all morning!"
"I'm trying to think of a calavera for Uncle Jorge..." Ricardo said staring at the blank piece of paper before him. Maria sighed when their butler Carlos announced,
"Senor Bordeaux, Donna."
Maria greeted Erik with a smile,
"Buenos dias Erik! How are you?"
"Very well Madame, thank you." Erik said politely.
"Say hello to our guest Ricardo." urged Maria.
"oh, hello Erik...say Erik, you're a clever fellow. What's another word for a drunken mule?" Ricardo asked.
"If Erik was not polite, he'd say Don Ricardo Montevilla!" Maria said dryly.
Chuckling slightly, Erik asked,
"Um...I'm not sure Monsieur. Why do you ask?"
"I'm writing a calavera..." Ricardo said distractingly.
"A what?" Erik asked.
"A calavera is a short epitaph or poem we write for our departed. Although they are suppose to be flattering as well as funny!" Maria said pointedly to Ricardo who merely shrugged. Carlos reentered and announce,
"Senorita Manuela says breakfast is served, Senora."
"Gracias Carlos. We'll have it in the conservatory." Maria said as her husband stood. Ricardo whispered in Erik's ear.
"If I were you I'd stick to the bread my boy. That's all Manuela can cook without burning it!"
"Duly noted." Erik said smiling upon learning Manuela's endearing flaw.
"Erik, after breakfast we will be meeting a group of people at the cemetery behind your house to clean it up and prepare it for the spirits. Would you like to come?" Donna Maria asked Erik as they walked down the hall.
"I would enjoy that, thank you. Um, Madame Montevilla? Have you noticed or heard anyone around my house at night?" Erik asked.
"No, and I often do a bit of stargazing before bed. I can see the whole town from my window. Why do you ask?" she inquired.
"Well I found my gardens tended to this morning. And unless I'm sleepwalking, someone has come at night and cleaned the place up." Erik told her.
"That's curious. No one I've spoken to has seen anything unusual." Maria said shaking her head.
"Not that I'm ungrateful, but I would like to know whom to thank for their hard work. Another curious thing is I've been dreaming of my house and my garden being put in order, but I never did so. It was the former owners, the Fairfeilds." Erik said.
"Ah...there's your answer then." Maria said.
"Excuse me?" Erik asked pausing.
"It's the Day of the Dead Monsieur...It would seem the spirits of the Fairfeilds have returned to celebrate it with you." Maria said going ahead into the conservatory. Erik looked back at Don Ricardo and asked,
"She is joking with me...Isn't she Monsieur?"
Ricardo shrugged,
"Mortimer Fairfield did work hard on that garden..."
He went into the conservatory only to be followed by Erik who was shaking his head and wondering.
Half of the town had shown up to clean the graves behind Erik's house. Armed with canvas bags for trash, rakes, and gloves, the townsfolk dressed not in their finest but they're day to day work clothes. And it amazed Erik that people would randomly shout out a cheerful greeting at him. Finally, towards the afternoon hour, Erik and Manuela were off by themselves.
"Do you realize, " Manuela said to Erik as they were cleaning off one grave, "That this is where we first met?"
Looking up to her smile, Erik asked,
"And you hold no ill feelings towards the place?"
"No...It wasn't the graveyards fault. Besides the spirits would object to me avoiding this place." Manuela said.
"Speaking of spirits, I think these two have been visiting me a lot lately." Erik said brushing off some dirt on a set of headstones. Manuela gasped and leaned over when she read the name,
"Mortimer and Imogene Fairfeild. Died on February 14th, 1875."
"They died on Saint Valentine's? What is it with this town and holidays?" Erik asked.
"You should see us at Christmas." Manuela said.
"I hope the Fairfeilds come visit me then as well. I've never had a real Christmas. And while they may very well be a product of my overactive imagination...fueled by fairy tale like stories of a certain whimsical home economist, " Erik said pointedly, "The Fairfeilds feel like the parents I never had."
She waited a moment before asking,
"Did you know your real parents?"
Erik shook his head,
"My father no...I don't even know his name. All I know of him is that he was an architect who fell off a building site to his death, leaving my mother a pregnant widow. I suppose that's why I got into architecture. To feel closer to him. My mother on the other hand," Erik sighed, hesitating to continue.
"Go on." Manuela said.
"My mother was a vain, spoiled, selfish brat. When I was born...she...she never even held me...She didn't even name me, the priest did. There was not one day where she failed to remind me of how ugly I was. For my fifth birthday...I asked for two kisses. One for that moment, and another one to save for later. Instead she showed me my reflection and cursed me...The next day she sold me to gypsies who made me a sideshow freak." Erik said, the story pouring out of him with tears gathering in his eyes.
"Where is she now?" Manuela asked.
"I read she had died a few years ago. The wife of a wealthy doctor. With five gorgeous children and fifteen beautiful grandchildren. No mention of her previous marriage or her firstborn. I laughed aloud. I'm glad the old bat is dead." Erik spat with bitterness.
"Erik!" scolded Manuela.
"Manuela please don't start with that talk of lost souls." Erik said.
"Well obviously I don't have to. You know you should pray for your mother's soul! No matter what she did to you." Manuela said standing to her feet, hands on hips. Erik stood as well and retorted,
"Pray for her? Did she ever pray for me? Did she even think of me after selling me off to be a slave? Apparently not for she went on and had an easy life, didn't she?"
"You don't know that. Just as you don't know if your Mother is in purgatory for her sins." Manuela told him.
"I hope she's burning in hell!" Erik yelled.
"Erik!" Manuela gasped.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you my dear, but while I may accept forgiveness from God and myself, I shall never forgive that woman!" Erik said growing angry.
"Then God will not forgive you! For it is a sin to hold on to such hate and to not show mercy!" Manuela told him.
"Well then you can pray for my soul when I'm dead. For I shall never let my hatred of her go!" Erik stated
"Oh you are impossible!" Manuela said throwing up her hands.
"Fine." Erik said simply and coldly. Then he turned and began to walk away.
"Erik! Where are you going?" Manuela yelled at him.
"To be impossibly alone!" Erik yelled back.
Meanwhile, Alejandro Garcia had been watching Erik and Manuela fighting. He turned to his lackey, Miguel,
"You know what to do?"
Miguel nodded,
"It's brilliant. But do you think you can imitate the Frog's voice?"
Alejandro laughed and said not in his own voice but that of a deeper baritone with a hint of a French accent,
"My father taught me ventriloquism at a young age...Who know a useless talent would suddenly become very useful indeed?"
He grinned wolfishly at Manuela as she watched Erik walk off, tears welling up in his eyes.
The final night of the festival for the dead saw Heaven's Corner ride out fully dressed in costume to their larger cemetery set high on a small island at Angel Feather Lake, called Hallow's Eve. They rode out in special boats called mariposas. Shaped like giant butterflies, another symbol of life after death, the townsfolk would bring ofrendas to the graves and decorate the place with candles and flowers. They ate at the graves and danced on a large gazebo until the dawn of the next day. It was Manuela's favorite part of los Dias de los Muertos, so no one could figure out why she would not come out of her bedroom.
"Manuela, please! We shall be late! You remember how your grandfather hated to wait for people. He's no different now that's he dead!" Don Ricardo said to her closed door.
"Oh Papa...I'm sure Poppi shall understand." Manuela said stroking her cat sadly.
Concerned, Donna Maria said gently,
"Manuela...would this have anything to do with Senor Bordeaux leaving the graveyard this afternoon so abruptly?"
Hearing no reply but a sudden sobbing and sniffle, Ricardo said dryly,
"We'll take that as a yes."
Maria hit his arm in warning, before saying through the door,
"Manuela...I'm not sure what your argument was about...But I know Senor Bordeaux will come tonight and apologize."
Maria wasn't sure if Manuela had heard her, until Manuela cracked the door open and said,
"Why do you know this?"
Smiling gently at his daughter, Ricardo added,
"Because he's your future husband. He may not know it yet...but that's what long engagements are for, no?"
"Oh Papa!" Manuela said collapsing into her father's arms and crying her eyes out.
Drying her tears, the Montevillas waited for her to dress and they were not dissappointed. She was going as Lady Autumn herself. A shimmering gown with gold, red, and orange beaded leaves on the billowing skirts and the tight bodice made her a vision while the enamel hair clips in the shapes of falling leaves in her hair made her stunning. A brown velvet mask completed the look and they were off to the docks. They arrived only moments before Father Rodriguez, Sister Sarah Elizabeth, Mister Crawford and Pedro. They asked where Erik was, leaving Manuela sad and looking for him again. When she couldn't she sighed and got in the boat, determined to have a good time. The mariposas were lit with lanterns and gave a wonderful magical quality to the lake, lighting it up like fire, the wings of the boat seeming to fly in a crowd of stars in the black sky.
The boats were getting crowded now, and Pedro gave his seat to the Widow Willowsworth. While he waited for the next ferry over, he couldn't help but hear wicked laughing on the wind. Now Pedro was a very curious boy, so he went to investigate the sound. He found the noise coming from a secluded part of the docks, where a waiting rowboat full of drunk rabble-rousers where toasting a masked figure in a cloak. Seeing it was the Don Juan costume, Pedro thought it was Senor Bordeaux making new friends. But hearing the voice of Alejandro Garcia, Pedro listened in to hear them say,
"A glorious trick!"
"Marvelous!"
"Tell us again Alejandro!"
"Alright but then I must leave. First, I ride out unseen to the graveyard. I wait for Manuela to be alone. I make her think I'm Bordeaux, and then I 'attempt' to compromise her. Miguel raises the alarm to Don Montevilla while I give Manuela some chloroform to knock her out. Taking off the disguise I'll say I rescued Manuela from Bordeaux." Talking over their outburst of laughter, Alejandro went on, "Montivilla will be so grateful, he's probably arrange the marriage that moment and throw that Frog Bordeaux out of town the next!"
This would be the unfortunate moment where Pedro gasped aloud. Spinning on his heel, Alejandro caught a glimpse of Pedro's eyes shining in the low torch light. He barked to his amigos,
"It's that noisy brat Pedro! Get him! Vanomos!"
Pedro began to run, Alejandro's men hot on his heels. The boy ran down the deserted dirt road first, finally taking the chase into the over-brush on the side. The larger men followed, almost slowing down. Almost. Pedro finally managed to run ahead just enough to pull back a small tree branch, wait and then release it with a snap into his assailant's face. The first pursuer cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, knocking the rest of the comrades down. Giving Pedro the chance to gain a head start.
"There he goes!" called out one.
"Let's get him!
"Vamonos!"
Watching them run ahead and search, Pedro peeked his head of the hallow tree trunk he had hidden inside of, scrambled to his feet and then run off in the opposite direction of his tormentors.
All Erik could think about was her. He sat alone in his parlor, staring at the blazing fireplace. He sighed listening to how quiet the house was. He had grown tired of silence. He shouldn't have yelled at her. It wasn't her fault his mother had been a witch of a woman. But there was no way Erik would forgive his mother.
"Not in a million years." Erik muttered aloud taking a sip of brandy.
"Oh for the love of gravy!" echoed a disembodied voice over his shoulder. Erik jumped and looked, but there was no one there. He furrowed his brow, turning his head back to stare at the fire, when his breath caught in surprise upon seeing the petite form of Imogene Fairfeild standing before him. She looked perturbed, her hands on her hips and her pretty blue eyes narrowed. Calming down, Erik said more to himself,
"I'm dreaming again."
"Keep telling yourself that Son..." said the voice of Mortimer Fairfeild as he materialized out of smoke beside his wife. Erik watched him take up his pipe and sit in the opposite chair as he continued to say, "But the fact remains Mother and I are very disappointed in you."
"Disappointed in me? Why?" Erik asked.
"That lovely girl Manuela was right! God will not show mercy for someone who does not give mercy to others! Yes Erik, your mother was vain, selfish...and...what else was she Mortimer?" Imogene asked her husband.
"A spoiled brat." supplied Mortimer.
"Ah yes...But she was also young. And in her mind she had this perfect fantasy fairy tale life figured out. Perfect husband, perfect baby, perfect life. So when her husband dies and leaves her to raise a baby with a birth defect that he'll have to struggle with the rest of his days, well...she couldn't handle it. She was a bad mother Erik. And she probably is responsible for why you hated the world for so long. But don't forget you made a lot of foolish choices that led you to sin." Imogene pointed out.
"And Erik, " Mortimer said, "We are not responsible for the sins of our fathers...or mothers...we are responsible for ourselves. The only way you will ever step out into the light and away from the shadow of the Phantom...is if you forgive your mother."
Erik looked back and forth between them, tears trickling down his face. He took off his mask and tried to dry his ravaged face. Finally he nodded and said,
"I do forgive her...and I only hope God forgives me."
"He does." Mortimer said with a smile.
"Now go apologize to Manuela. She's such a lovely girl." Imogene told him.
Erik shook his head, smiling,
"I've got to lay off on the brandy before bed."
"SENOR BORDEAUX!" came the yell of a frightened young boy.
"Pedro?" Erik asked standing to his feet as an incessant pounding came on his door. He opened it to find Pedro, out of breath and sweaty from his long run.
"Pedro! What in the world? Here, come inside." Erik said ushering the lad in.
"But Senor...we've got to...hurry..." Pedro tried to explain.
"Wait here and catch your breath first. I'll go get some..." Erik stopped short upon seeing a glass of water on his table that he knew had not been there a moment before. And while no one was in sight, Erik had a funny feeling he knew where it came from."...Water..."
He handed the glass to Pedro who gulped it down. Kneeling before the boy, Erik asked,
"Now, what was so important you nearly had a coronary over it?"
Recovered, Pedro stopped drinking and cried out,
"Manuela's in trouble!"
"What?" Erik said his senses reeling.
"Alejandro Garcia is gonna trick Manuela into thinking he's you and attack her! You'll get thrown out of town and Manuela will have to marry him!" Pedro told him. His jaw set, Erik stated,
"Not if I have anything to say about it. Come!"
Putting down his glass, Pedro asked Erik's form as he began to go out the door,
"Aren't you going to wear your mask?"
Erik stopped cold in his tracks. He put a hand to his face realizing that Pedro had seen his abomination! And he had showed no less respect and not a hint of fear. But there was no time to ponder such things now.
"No time let's go!" Erik ordered with Pedro hot on his heels. But the second he stepped outside, Pedro gasped,
"Whoa!"
Aggravated, Erik demanded.
"What now?"
"How'd you do that? More magic?" Pedro asked.
"Do what?" Erik asked confused.
"Change clothes and put on a mask!" Pedro told him.
"What?" Erik asked going over to the window to see his reflection. His eyes went wide when he saw his skull shaped mask in place, black makeup on underneath and all. He looked down and saw a similar velvet costume to his Red Death that he had worn to the Masquerade Ball at the Opera Popular. Only instead of a red, it was a deep royal blue, trimmed with silver instead of gold. He looked up to the glass again after fingering the lapel, only now he saw the transparent forms of Imogene and Mortimer peeking out at him from behind the curtains. Erik sighed,
"It's a long story. Come!"
"But we'll never get there in time! Alejandro already has a head start and it took me forever to loose his friends who were chasing me! Not to mention that it take twenty minutes to get across the lake by the boats." Pedro told him.
"Pedro think! Do you know how the funeral hearse gets across?" Erik asked grabbing the boys shoulders. Pedro hit his head and muttered,
"Pedro tu idioso! Estupido!"
Soon they were on the back of Erik's horse, willing the animal to grow wings and fly.
Meanwhile, the celebrations at Hallow's Eve were in full swing. Don Ricardo was making everyone laugh about Uncle Jorge, while Manuela's eyes kept scanning the crowd. Her mother put a hand on her shoulder and told her,
"He'll be here."
Manuela nodded and said softly,
"I'm going to talk to Poppi."
Her mother nodded, letting her go. Poppi Montevilla's grave was in a quieter part of the cemetery. Laying flowers at his grave, Manuela sighed,
"Oh Poppi...I'm in love...but how can I love a man who refuses to forgive? What kind of life would we have? What if I make a mistake?"
"Manuela..." whispered a voice on the wind. She looked up searching,
"Who's there?"
"Manuela..." whispered the voice again. Her gray orbs darted over the headstones, seeing no one in sight. She turned back to Poppi's grave only to jump and gasp when she saw a shadowed figure standing behind the tall grave marker. Recognizing the Don Juan costume, Manuela put a hand to her chest and breathed out,
"Erik! You startled me!"
"I'm sorry my dear." Alejandro softly said, his voice sounding very much like Erik's. But Manuela could tell something was off.
"Erik? Are you alright? There's something about your voice..."
Ignoring her question, Alejandro held out his gloved hand and said,
"Come. We need to talk."
Manuela hesitated, "I hope it's about you forgiving your mother..." Then she started reaching out for him, "...But alright..."
"Manuela STOP!" cried Pedro coming over the hill. Manuela stopped reaching for the fake Erik's hand, confusion in her face as she asked,
"Pedro? What in the world...?"
Just before he could grab Manuela, Alejandro felt something sharp jabbing at his neck. He looked to his left and saw Erik, a rapier pointed right at Alejandro's jugular.
"Erik?" Manuela asked. With a flick of the wrist, Erik cut away Alejandro's mask. Manuela spat with hate, "Alejandro! I knew that wasn't Erik's voice."
Alejandro flickered his eyes back to Erik and said,
"Are you going to give me any chance Bordeaux? A chance for satisfaction and honor?"
"You have no honor. But I shall gladly give you satisfaction!" Erik spat placing himself between Alejandro and Manuela.
"Erik!" Manuela protested.
"Stand back Manuela." Erik gently ordered, his eyes still fixed on his opponent. Manuela backed up desperately pleading with her eyes to stop this madness. She held Pedro close as Erik allowed Alejandro to unsheathe his rapier. They sized each other up a moment, then Alejandro started the attack. Erik parried three times. Alejandro waited before striking again. As they clashed swords amongst the graves, Erik reflected that this was not the first time he had dueled in a cemetery for the woman he loved. Only now the roles were reversed. Had DeChangy been this scared? This desperate to save Christine from the monster?
Before he even realized it, Alejandro had tripped over a stone, losing his footing and tumbling to the ground. Erik kicked away Alejandro's sword and pointed his rapier at Alejandro's throat once more. Out of breath, Alejandro glared up at Erik, who said,
"You are fortunate I am not the man I was five years ago."
Alejandro shivered when he looked in Erik's cold eyes. He knew those eyes had killed before. Erik ordered him to his feet with a simple flick up of his sword. At that moment, Don Ricardo and several of the men from town came over the hill.
"Papa!" Manuela cried rushing to her father.
"What's going on? First we saw Erik and Pedro ride in like madmen and now this!" Don Ricardo said.
"Would you care to elaborate Garcia or shall I?" Erik asked Alejandro. Staying silent, Alejandro merely sneered when Pedro spoke up,
"He was gonna hurt Manuela Don Montevilla. And make you kick Erik out of town."
Don Ricardo looked condescendingly at Alejandro,
"Really? Well Senor Garcia...it would appear your plan backfired. Sheriff!"
A tall man in head to toe black, a cowboy hat with a tin star on his lapel stepped forward and said with a thick drawl,
"Gladly Ricardo."
"Wait a moment! You can't prove any of this! It's their word against mine!" Alejandro spat as the sheriff took a hold of him. Suddenly, Miguel ran up to Don Ricardo and said,
"Don Montevilla! Senor Bordeaux is dressed as Don Juan and is trying to compromise your daughter!" Then he took notice of the scene before him and Alejandro's heated stare and said, "Uh-oh..." He tried to run, only to be caught by the sheriff's deputy.
"That's good enough for me." said the Sheriff.
"That's not fair!" Alejandro spat as he struggled. The sheriff smiled and laughed,
"Son...this is Texas. You're lucky we haven't found a tall tree!"
The men laughed and followed the sheriff as he began to take Alejandro away.
"Erik!" breathed Manuela. Sheathing his rapier, Erik began to step forward to her,
"Manuela..."
Then suddenly, Alejandro turned on his heel, shaking loose of the sheriff and give a hark right hook across Erik's jaw, sending Erik's mask flying. Manuela cried out and went to help Erik as the Sheriff and a few helpful citizens grabbed Alejandro and dragged him away.
"Ow!" Erik said clutching the cold rag to his swollen left eye.
"Hold still...you're not quite cleaned up yet..."Manuela said wiping his face off with another wet rag. Erik looked her in the eye and searched her face,
"You don't shrink in fear at the sight of my face...and neither did Pedro. Why?"
Manuela simply smiled and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. Erik deepened the kiss, a hand going up to tangle itself in her hair. Manuela broke the kiss and said,
"I just see Erik. The man behind the mask."
Erik nodded then replied,
"That still doesn't explain Pedro."
Manuela giggled and let Erik wrap his arms around her tight, as fireworks sailed up to explode into the night sky.