Each day and each night seemed to get longer at Jodi's small flat in Long Island. All she could manage to do was roam her house and try to forget about work until Mr. Curry called her back. Her love of slumbering for hours on the couch seemed like a common joy for her, until she grabbed the title of best journalist. Ever since she had gained that title, she managed to cut off her sleeping hours and live by coffee alone. She knew it wouldn't be long until her body would react to her lacking all things humans need.
After Jodi bought her groceries, she desired to be around the comforts of nature. Going outside to drive out to Brookwood Hall Park, she noticed when she was younger, she would play at that park with her usual friends and had been going back there ever since. To think she used to have time enough to be with friends. All of them would grow up to be journalists or writers, just like herself.
Once she arrived, she could already feel humanity reach back to her. With the breeze brushing past her long hair and the sun gently heating the already frozen ground, Jodi could tell it would be a descent day for a walk. As she looked up at the leafless trees and the still green grass underneath it, she could almost remember eating her small but fresh lunch underneath the tree in Spring. Her memories flooded back to her mind every time she saw an aspect of nature. Whether they we're as sweetened honey or a January blizzard, she really didn't mind: memories don't kill.
By the time Jodi got back to her Mercedes, her cheeks were back to their rosy color and the eyes didn't seem as heavy and tired like they usually looked after work. Jodi could even feel the difference in the atmosphere when she turned the knob at the front door. She threw her keys on the oak cabinet nearest to her and closed the door behind her. As she removed her coat and hung it up in the closet, she noticed a number she never heard of on the caller ID: 631-742-6866.
Jodi shook her head, "People always confuse me for an auto mechanic down the block. I've had enough calls of axles being broken on the side of the highway." she told herself as she removed her shoes. She looked up at the clock: 6:30pm. "Great, even in regular life I must rush." she found her flats and grabbed her coat once again, rushing out the door. This time, she was going to see her much older cousin, Shawn Matracal, considered a 'lawyer extrodinaire'. As she parked in front of the 2 story house on High Ridge Rd. Jodi already noticed Shawn waiting for her outside.
Shawn was sitting on the porch, reading the newspaper and stood up once he saw his cousin. "Ah, Jodi. You finally had time in your schedule to see your old cousin." They always liked to joke about the fact that they were 20 years apart from the other, making him 42. Jodi shook her head, "I don't have that much of a schedule so I can do whatever is needed to do now." she embraced him and headed inside. The place was vast, decorated with mini chandeliers in each room and small works of art on the wall.
Once they were inside, Shawn's 21-year old daughter Carrie walked down the stairs. "Hey, Jodi! Never thought you would actually come back." Jodi went over and embraced Carrie, "I'm glad I am still on break before I go back to my classes." Carrie told her, "They last until 7 at night. With Professor Brandwith talking, he could make it last until midnight!" Carrie was taking nursing at NYU, and was inspired to do so after she saw her mother die from a car accident right in front of the house when she was 10. She wanted to do something then, but all she could manage to do was stop the bleeding with a cloth on the porch .
As the night went on, and the conversations changing from Carrie's classes to Shawn's cases, Jodi's phone rang her jacket pocket. She headed into the hallway and looked at the number: 631-742-6866, answering, "Jodi Whittaker speaking." After a moment of a pause, a man's voce came over the line, "Ms. Whittaker, I heard that you are having a leave of absence from your work at the times." His tone suggested he was intelligent and fairly middle aged. "How did you manage to hear about that?" she demanded from him, his answer was eerily calm, "Brian Regeld, of course. I'm one of his colleagues." "What is this about? And what does my work have to do anything with this?" the man continued with his cool tone, "I have a story that is surely going to get you back your title of 'great journalist'. I have refused to give the story to anyone else but the sincere best."
Jodi thought of it for a moment, "What is this story about?" he answered almost immediately, "I will not answer that over the phone, but if you will kindly meet me tomorrow at NYU in the architectural classroom I will give you all the details there." After a pause from Jodi's point she nodded, "Alright. But I do not wish for any strange, untrue stories." At that, the phone went dead. Early as it was, she bid her cousins good bye and headed home.
The next day brought her high hopes and excitement she hasn't felt for almost 4 years. As Jodi went into the main office of NYU, she noticed her friend Brian Regeld signing some papers. Brian was an actually archaeologist who worked at NYU as a part time professor of archaeology. Today he wore his khaki pants with a short sleeved pressed light blue oxford shirt, complete with a bright yellow tie. "Jodi, I thought you were going to be at work by now." he said when he glanced over to meet her eyes. She laughed, "The boss said I need a leave of absence after I goofed on one of the interviews." "Wonderful," he answered, picking up his black suitcase, "What brings you back here?"
Jodi starting walking with him, "I got a call from someone who wanted to meet me here about a story. Said I have to meet him in the architectural classroom." "I'll go with you," he said, as they started walking up the stairs,"my class doesn't start for another hour or so and the room is just a few doors down from mine." As Jodi and Brian walked down the vast hallway, they found that classes were been dismissed with numerous students coming out with books and bookbags. Brian opened one of the doors and led Jodi inside.
She saw the classroom was empty but the overhead lights were on. Not a soul was around. "Maybe he wanted to meet you at night and tell you a ghost story." Brian joked as he looked around. Jodi looked at some of the projects the students did and a textbook opened to page 189. "Ms. Whittaker?" a voice from the other side of the room called, making her jump out of her skin. A middle aged man was standing there with grey pressed pants and a smoky purple sweater, thin face and peppered hair. "Yes, Jodi Whittaker." she went over and shook the man's hand, "Are you the one who called me last night?" he bowed his head.
"Yes, forgive me for calling you so late. I just needed to reach you before anything got worse." Jodi looked at him confused, "Worse? What do you mean?" He opened the door behind him, "Let's go in the back, I'll tell you the whole story there." Brian shurgged his shoulder and let Jodi go first. The room was somewhat like an office complete with blueprints and regular architectural drawings pinned to the walls. "Let me first introduce myself to you, Ms. Whittaker. I am Edgar Dagnter and I keep the National Archives in Paris running. That is the main reason I wanted you here, Ms. Whittaker." "What does the National Archives have to do with the story?" she asked.
"Everything!" he sat down in his chair, looking up at them with his glasses. "There was a robbery that took place there about 2 weeks ago. A coffin containing a body of valuable importance to Paris culture itself." Brian laughed, "You called Ms. Whittaker here, who so happens to be one of the best journalists at the Times, to do a story on a regular body stolen thousands of miles away?" Edgar narrowed his eyes at Brian, "That body is no ordinary man, Mr. Regeld." he turned to Jodi. "Ms. Whittaker, I am sure you are aware of one of the most famous horror stories, 'The Phantom of the Opera'?" "Yes," she nodded, "I believe it was one of the most famous musicals of the world as well."
Mr. Dagnter looked down at his hands, "That myth, that infamous story of the man behind the mask is supposedly true. The body that was stolen is thought to be the remains of 'Le Fantome' himself." Jodi's eyes went wide, "How...how is that possible?? He is only a pure story book character to frighten and mystify people." Edgar leaned back in chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "The body was found many years ago in an enclosed space, so apparently he starved to death. His face appeared to already be decomposed or to be his actual face. That was my main job at the archives, keep that body preserved."
Jodi shook her head slowly, "You want me to fly over to Paris to do a story that will most likely get me thrown into a psychiatric ward?" "That is why I wanted the best and only the best," he answered, "to show that I am not crazy and that I am sincere about my words." Jodi got up and started to leave the room, "I don't know Mr. Dagnter, I am sure I will be called into duty in the next couple of days and won't have time to fly to Paris." "Then do it for the sake of bringing the robbers to justice, if anything." he pleaded, "With the publicity of your story it will have everyone search for the body and bring it back in less time."
"The whole trip will be on my bill and whomever else you want to come with you. Please, Ms. Whittaker." he sighed sadly, in desperation "That body is important to the Opera Garnier and its mysterious history." Jodi turned around and exhaled deeply. "Yes, alright. I'll do it. I need a descent vacation anyway." Edgar smiled, "Good, and thank you." he took a piece of paper from his desk and wrote something on it. He gave it to Jodi, "All the information is on here of the plane departure. Good day to you Ms. Whittaker, Mr. Regeld." he bowed and went back to work.
Once Brian and Jodi went into Brian's classroom down the hall from Mr. Dagnter, Jodi immediately went for a pen and some paper. "What are you doing?" Brian asked her as he watched her scribbling on a piece of paper. "You..." Jodi said as she ripped the paper from the pad, "are coming with me." She placed the paper in Brian's hand and watched his expression change, "Me? Why me? I have no experience in the journalist field." "Yes but you could also use a vacation. Besides, an archaeologist can be handy in the least expected moments." she walked out of the classroom and left NYU.
Jodi looked down at the paper Edgar gave her, reading it over and over:Dagnter 9:30 2/16. With the way it sounded, he had his own private jet. Well, at least it wasn't in a crowded coach section with strange people around you. As she climbed into bed that night, she continued to replay the words in her mind. Dagnter 9:30 2/16, Dagnter 9:30 2/16...With the 16th coming up in 2 days from now, she was sure to have a jolly good time.