Chapter 5

MADELEINE

The first rays of the sun that weren't blocked by the building on the opposite side of the street found me awake and full of energy the next morning, even though I didn't have much sleep. The faint autumn sunshine lit through the pathetic newspaper curtain as I brushed my hair and washed my face. Marie was surprised that I was the first to get up in the morning and I was fully dressed and washed when she sat up in her bed. Other times I always wanted to sleep in, but this time, I even had the time to prepare a small and poor breakfast for us. At least we still had tea.

- Didn't you sleep well, Madeleine? – she asked worriedly.

- Why, yes, yes I did. – I smiled and put the plate on the small table in front of her.

- Thank you. – she smiled at me, and I couldn't help myself but laugh at her amazed expression.

- You were right, I have to change. – I sat down to the edge of my bed to eat my slice of bread- This can't go on like this. I know now what I will work and I hope you will help me as well.

- I will, Madeleine, with everything you need. – she nodded and smiled.

After breakfast I said no more words, just asked Marie to follow me. She did not show any surprise, she knew that I was a determined and stubborn woman and I always knew what I wanted. We walked to the center of Paris and I stopped in front of the Institution of the Blind.

- Here I want to work as a nurse or a teacher. – I pointed at the building.

- Are you sure this is what you want to do? – Marie asked with a rather uncomfortable look on her face, as if she was thinking I have gone mad. She was looking at the big stone building in front of us.

- Yes. – I nodded with determination.

- Madeleine, these children are… very sensitive, they have a very sensitive little soul and…

- And you don't think I should ruin their self-esteem, just as I did it with my son, did you want to say that?

- No. But I wanted to warn you that they might not tolerate well if you keep talking to them harshly like a soldier. Also they need assistance and patience, something you seemed to lack in your life, Madeleine. Please, don't get me wrong. You are a good person, but I am not sure you should work with disabled children. You don't have to prove anything. – she took my hand.

- Marie… I know what I have to do. I know that I have to work here to learn what it takes to work with these children. Yes, I need more patience and kindness. I have to be here to learn it. Will you help me? I know that you will be a great tutor. Please, Marie. – I looked in her eyes. She pulled me closer to herself and gently hugged me.

- I know you will be successful, and if this is what you want, I will help you the best I can.

We walked closer to the building. Next to the giant two-wing door there was a sign that said

"Primary School and Home of the Blind"

Here lived the blind children that could not go to school at home, or their parents couldn't know how to take care of them. To tell the truth, I was feeling a bit of uncomfortable about this place, and I thought my old self would have sent my blind child here without a second thought. But the new Madeleine won't be selfish any more.

When we stepped inside I was surprised to see that instead of the prison like atmosphere, I felt like I stepped into a big family's apartment. May children were there, in pairs, one child guiding the other. As I later found out, many of the children weren't totally blind, they could still see some, and these partly disabled children's job was to guide their fully blind mates to eat or to take a walk.

The headmaster was very kind. When I told him why we came and what do we want, he only asked if my intentions are serious. When I said yes, he asked some questions to explore my knowledge and level of education. As I was well- trained as a child and young woman, it wasn't hard to answer those questions. I had way more than average knowledge in literature, geometry, history and music. I finally got a job as a music- mathematics teacher. They said I came just in time as the children had a very old teacher in these subjects, and he could not really do his job any more.

Marie, as she wasn't as educated as me, and to be honest, did not even have the courage to speak in front of a bigger crowd, became a nurse in the home of the children. Her job was to help the children in need, to teach the younger ones to do everyday things like get dressed, and to look after them. She had eight more co-workers to look after about 200 children.

In the institution we got home and food, so Marie went to our apartment to bring the few things we had there and to talk to the landlord about cancelling the apartment. She returned a bit of grumpy, because we had to pay for the whole month when cancelling the apartment. I did not mind that we didn't have to go back there.

I happily got to know that I did not have to stay in the same room with Marie. As I was a teacher, I got a room for my own. It had a piano in it, a desk, some chairs, a big dresser, and a bed. It wasn't as luxury as my old home, but definitely much better and comfortable than the apartment we rented. I sat down in front of the piano and decided to practice a bit. It did not go too well at first; I was ashamed of the sounds I made. I did not really play the piano at home as Erik usually thought the piano was his, and he occupied it most of the time. As my lazy and untrained fingers were slowly getting used to the piano keys and I started to form better melodies, and with time, the imaginary audience could recognize some old Mozart and Bach pieces I learned in my childhood, I unintentionally imagined what Erik might say if he heard me playing right now. I did not start to cry, to my own surprise. The sight of his white kid mask and hearing his displeased voice just made me to practice harder so that I can gain his applause. I could see and hear him so clearly as he was right there with me in the room. He was sitting on my bed with a book on his lap, and first he didn't even lift his head. When I made some terrible mistakes I heard he sighed, and after some very pitiful tries to play the right notes, he got tired of my musical fails and jumped off of the bed, walked closer to me and started giving criticism in one word sentences. "Faster" "C" "F" "Softer" After some successful lines he nodded and said "Good". This made me happier than anything I have ever heard. I wanted to hug him but my hands just cut through the air. His thin form disappeared just like when I blurred my reflection in water when I put my hand in it.

It was a bit of sad feeling, but I still did not cry. I felt that Erik was somehow with me and deep in my heart I knew that Father Mansart must be wrong. Erik did not die. He was alive somewhere, and he was with me, in my soul. Even if I can't touch him, he is still with me, giving me instructions or advices. And I will try to see him as often as possible.

ERIK

When I opened my eyes I found myself in a tent. I was lying on my side on the ground and there was a sack under me, filled with straw. I was quite comfortable, to be honest, the only thing that made me feel bad was the aching wound on my back. It did not hurt as it did before, but I could still feel it. After I shook my head a few times to regain my mind's normal working, I was able to think things through. I did not think I died. At first, this place, however comfortable it was, didn't meet either Father Mansart's descriptions, neither my expectations of Heaven. Well, if I thought about what a bad child I was, I might have been in Hell, but that place did not even look like that. It was an earthly looking normal tent. I also doubted that in either Heaven or Hell, I could still feel my wound, as it only my soul should have been in those places, not my body.

As I finished with my musings, I realized I wasn't alone in the tent. A shadow sat a bit further than my sack- bed, and as I was yet unable to move my head properly, I could not even see if the shadow figure was a woman or a man. The only thing I could see is the human being was a bit overweight. I did not really dare to move, just tried to keep an eye at my companion to see what they might want of me. Considering they did not kill me or let me die on the field, I thought they might be harmless. But I did not dare to make sure of it. I was yet very weak and I knew I would not win a possible fight in this state of health.

The thing moved when it realized I was watching it. It stood up and I still could not tell what it was. It looked around and I tried to hold my breath not to make noise, but it was too late. The thing had already found out I was still alive. It took some steps closer to me and leaned close. My eyes got wide open and I wanted to scream but the only faint sound I could make was just a pitiful whine.

- Don't be afraid, you poor thing. – it was a very gruff voice, but certainly female. As she was examining me, I could see she was an old woman, with a very ugly face, giant nose, no teeth and a missing eye. She was very fat, and she was hunched. She put her hands under my jaw and pulled me closer to her. Only then I realized I wasn't wearing my mask.

- Where is my mask? – I asked when she finally let me go

- What mask? – she asked with surprise.

- That I was always….. made to wear…. – my mind was racing and finally I remembered back that I had removed it when I kissed Sacha. I had no more memories about what could have happened to it, but most likely I forgot to put it back on.

- I haven't seen a mask on you. – she shook her head. – Who made you wear it?

- My mother. – I lowered my head and closed my eyes.

- Heartless thing. – she spat in the corner of the tent. I rather found the whole figure a bit bizarre and somehow disgusting, but to be honest, she looked a lot like me, and she did not seem to be repulsed by my maskless deformed face.

- Are you not… afraid of me? – I asked, though I knew I will sound rather dumb.

- No. – she replied simply.

- What's your name?

- Devil knows. – she sat down behind my back and as I could feel she was taking care of my wound.

- My name is Erik. – I told her after she was done and came back in front of me again. She nodded.

- The others in the camp call me the Crazy Ilka. – she said after a long pause.

- Thank you for….

- You don't have to thank me. – she shook her head. – I am not even sure I made you good by doing it. You seem to be a good boy, but people are bad.

I knew well how she meant it. Maybe it would have been a more merciful act of her to let me die in peace, but she seemed to be kind and I wanted to make her happy.

- I'm still thankful.

- Just don't show your feelings too much. – she replied. – Others might use them against you. You'll learn it.

- Is there anything I could help you with?

- You have to feel better.

- And after? May I stay with you or…

- Why not? I was always alone here. You will see there is lot of people in this Gypsy camp but even in a crowd you can be lonely. At least, if you stay, there will be someone for me.

- I can work. – I added some minutes later. – I can take care of you.

- I take care of myself. Is there a way you could make money?

- I can sing and play the violin.

- There are a lot of musicians here. – she waved in frustration – every second Gypsy is a musician.

- Might be true. But they aren't like me. – I proudly lifted my head.

- We shall see after you get more strength. – she smiled and patted my shoulder. – Now I go and fetch you some food. Don't go out. The others might attack you.

She left me with my thoughts. Should I go with a travelling Gypsy camp? As I heard Gypsies were travelling all around Europe all the time. They did not stay at a place for long. I was never outside of Boscherville, I wasn't really outside of that damned house. If I go with them, might be I will be out of the country for years. But who would miss me, anyway? My mother always hated me, my sister is safe in that house, as sure some good person adopted her, and mother sure will find a new gentleman for herself, wherever she is, as she found Dr. Bayre. She is young, still, she could still give birth to a few children and live happily ever after with her new family. No one needs me and I could finally live my own life, see some of the world, and have adventures. Also, my new companion seems to be kinder than my mother who would always make me aware of her constant nausea upon looking at me. Maybe finally I can live with someone who tolerates my face?

The dear old woman was protecting me as I was a nicely painted Easter egg. We became friends and I briefly told her my life story. I did not tell her everything; she was too sensitive to handle all the things that have happened to me. She took care of me and chased the few gypsy kids away that came to bother me as they heard there was a very ugly thing in Ilka's tent. I was slowly getting better. I needed two more weeks to be strong and to be able to take care of myself, finally. My wound mostly healed, and I found myself ready to start a new life just in time when the Gypsies decided to pack and move on from the border of Darnéthal. It was early October, and it started to be very chilly in the mornings, so the gypsies thought it will be better to go somewhere warmer.

- Italy? We go to Italy?

- Yes, Erik, we usually do in the Autumn.

- I can't wait. I will see the famous buildings of the Italian masters, finally.

- Be careful – Ilka sighed and waved her head – just be careful, Erik.

- I will. I made myself a new mask.

- Why? You don't have to wear it.

- Not with you. For when I go outside.

- Do you really want to go in the cities, Erik?

- Ilka, I have always been interested in architecture. I want to visit all the monuments, castles, and every beautiful building. Don't you want to see them too?

- What for? I am fine here, in my tent. You will find out yourself that you will be more content with an own place once. But you are young yet. How old are you? – she looked at me with dreamy eyes.

- I can be 8 or 9. – I sighed. – We did not… celebrate… my Birthday.

- Well, you get a Birthday from me. The day I found you on the fields. It was Tuesday. You will have Birthday on Tuesday.

- But Ilka, one can only have one Birthday a year.

- Who said that?

- Mother.

- I say it other way. Not only one truth is there. We can see things differently.

I scratched my head, but I actually liked the idea. I liked to see things from more perspectives, and hearing an adult thinks similar was really a nice touch.

- Do you know what I would like to have for my Birthday?

- What? – she leaned closer to me and smiled.

- My violin. I left it at home and I would like you to accompany me back to …. to the place I lost it.

- Won't it be easier if you get a violin from one of the kids here? A lot of them grew up their child violins. I see you'd need a ½ violin. I think I could get you one.

- Well…. mine had an amazing sound…. but if you could get me one, I'd see if it meets my standards.

- Oh, you are a strange little kid – Ilka laughed. – I like you have standards; it is unlikely from a child at your age.

- If my face isn't perfect, everything else should be. – I murmured mostly to myself.

The next day when I woke up I saw a violin next to my bed in a violin case. I opened it with trembling hands and picked the instrument out. I just watched it for a few seconds…. and after I realized the case was very familiar. I looked inside and… yes. I found the little piece of sheet music under the bow's place in that tiny hole where I hid it. It was my first piece I ever wrote and kept it in the violin case to make sure I will never lose it. It was my violin!

- How… how did you… - I looked up at Ilka with eyes filled with tears

- I found it under a bush. You told me your house burned down, it was easy to find that place in Boscherville.

- How can I thank you for it…

- Just play something, so I can see if it worth to get it.

I started to play one of my favorite pieces by Bach, and I could see Ilka's jaw dropped from surprise. I bet she never heard a child play like this. I was always proud of ow I could control my audience's feelings. But my secret weapon was yet unused. I finished playing the violin and put it back to its place. I stood up straight and closed my eyes. With all my knowledge and heart, I started to sing.

The piece I sang was a simple Ave Maria, but the way I sang it was so unique that Ilka was just sitting there, speechless. I realized that as I was singing, the tent's entrance got blocked by gypsies. Soon the whole camp came and was listening to my singing. Ilka took my hand and turned me towards them, and though some of them gasped by the sight of my face, my music made them forget about it.

There was no more need to be afraid of the gypsies. I knew that I will be able to control them with my voice. The journey could begin.

ALBERT BOSWELL

Little Suzanne had the nicest nursery in all Normandie, I bet. She got a beautiful cradle, nice baby clothes, toys, bottle, pacifier, very soft carpet for her if we will be able to put her out on it to play and everything a nice little girl could want or need. Even though I wasn't rich, I had enough money to buy her the finest things a man in my state could afford.

She was a nice baby, she did not cry a lot. She seemed to be surprised if someone lifted her up, as she did not see that coming at all. Christian came to visit us for our usual chess or card parties, and every time he was there he would examine Suzanne if she was developing normally.

The first few months passed in happiness and idyll. Madame Bonhumeur and I were so happy to have a sweet little girl with us. I wasn't in the pub anymore and I also quitted smoking my cigars not to blow that stinky smoke on that little angel girl. It was a pleasure to see how she was growing and developing day by day in front of me.

Madame Bonhumeur turned younger because of our dear little angel. She did not complain any more about pain, she smiled all the time, hummed while making food for Suzanne, or when she cradled her. The good old lady looked at the baby with warm and happy eyes just like a new mother. She had one daughter but the poor girl died in an accident when she was 15. I wasn't sure what has happened to her, as Madame Bonhumeur did not like to talk about it. She was a good mother to my daughter. She spoiled the baby, and so did I.

She could be 8-9 months old when we saw the first signs that made us worry. She wasn't interested in the toys I put in her cradle or the little bells I hang above it. Only if she accidentally touched something, she would pick that one toy up and play with it. She did not look directly at us, only if we spoke to her. We could not play peek a boo with her, or she did not react when I made a face to make her laugh. When we put her down on the rug, she would not really dare to crawl, only on the areas she knew. I could not imagine what her problem could be, at first I just thought she was just very young and maybe it changes with time. It did not. Madame Bonhumeur started to nag me about I should ask Christian's opinion about this.

Suzanne was a little more than a year old when I finally dared to ask the doctor about our problem. He picked the girl up and examined her for a time. He directly flashed in her eyes with a lamp but Suzanne did not cry or close her eyes. As he was looking at her, his face got more and more worried. He finally put her down to her rug and looked at me.

- Is there a very big problem, is it? – I asked softly.

- Yes. – the doctor nodded.

- Is she going to die? – I leaned against the table not to fall.

- No, it is not that bad… but it will be most likely very hard for her in all her life.

- Why, for God's sake, Christian, what is my child's illness?

- She is blind. – Christian replied.

I felt like a heavy rock hit me on the head falling from a giant cliff. I was so stunned at first that I could barely breathe. But after the first shock I stood up straight and lifted my head.

- I shall help her to live a complete life even with her disability. She won't be a helpless thing that will be up to people's cruelty or intentions. She won't need their help or pity. Suzanne Boswell will be a successful young woman, strong, determined and awesome. I will do everything to help her.

- I will help you with it too. – Christian said and put his hand on my shoulder. – It won't be easy, but I like your way of thinking and I know that you will be successful.

I nodded and we silently looked at the tiny girl on the rug. She found a toy and was happily playing with it and giggled. What a positive little girl she is!