Erik,
It was not the first time I had been knocked unconscious, and it will probably not be the last. Thought I must say, this time I was left with the worst head ache I have ever experienced. I kept my eyes closed, for my mind was still reeling. I had a million questions and no answers. What happened? What hit me? And....
"CHRISTINE!!" I yelled.
I opened my eye and sat up despite the protests or my body. Christine was nowhere to be found. The only thing I saw were iron bars in every direction. I was in a cage. My mind took an eternity to proses this new development.
The icy grip of terror caught my intellect. Like when I was a child, the cage made all of my powers of reason disappear. I was a fly caught in the spiders web. My hands groped at my face, but they found nothing. I had no mask. No shield. If not for the mind numbing fear, I could have picked the lock of that first cage and my story would no longer be necessary.
If not for my mind numbing fear of being trapped, I could have picked the lock of that first cage and my story would no longer be necessary. Sadly I could not get all of the old fear from my childhood under control.
It was not long before my captor came to gloat. I was not as surprised as one would think when the a flap of the tent, that housed my cage, opened, and Javert walked in. He looked much like I remembered him. His hair had some grey in it other than that he looked the same.
"So it seems my little Don Juan has groan-up." he sad in a mocking tone. "You even have a little wife."
The mention of Christine ripped my mind from it's fear induced haze.
"Where is she." I growled.
"Right here." he then yelled "Bring her in!"
Three gypsies entered the tent dragging Christine with them. Before that night, I had never considered Christine's small hight to be a bad thing. I had always liked having a wife that was considerately smaller than me because then she would need my help in order to reach things on high shelves and other little things like that. Seeing those men drag her around like a tiny rag-doll made my blood boil with rage.
She looked the same as I had left her ; only two things where different. The cloak I had put on her was gone, and the other was a slim black blind fold covering her eyes. The absence of her cloak worried me. Christine becomes cold easily, and by then her teeth where chattering.
One of the gypsies opened the cage, and I took one step toward Christine. In an instant guns were drawn.
"Don't be stupid, monster." Javert sneered, reminding me I had to keep Christine's safety in mind before I did something I could not take back. With that in mind, I retreated a step. I glared fearsomely at the man that had my wife. The gypsy became so nervous under my constant scrutiny, he shoved Christine into the cage and slammed the door shut as fast as he could.
Christine stumbled but caught herself. She put her hands out so as not to run into any thing. When she did, her fingers brushed my shirt and she stopped.
"Who-who's there?" she said in a frightened studded "Erik?"
"Yes, my angel"
I reached for Christine's blindfold, but Javert stopped me. "Don't touch that blindfold!"
My hands slid down her hair using the feel of it to calm myself. By now my hands were shaking with suppressed rage. Christine must have sensed my anger, because she clasped her arms around my waist. I never knew if she was trying to comfort me or contain me.
I hated the lack of options. If we tried to run, one or, most likely, both of us would be shot. If I tried to fight, out numbered, out gunned, and trapped in a cage, we would be shot.
"Pick up the girl Monster, we have to get on the road"
Christine whorled around and faced in direction she had herd Javerts voice. I knew what she would say if I did not stop her. Christine hated the word 'Monster', she was always quick to my defence. Sometimes even defending me ageist myself. Her reproofs could be blistering and Javert would not sit quietly wile she scolded him.
Before she could say a word, I spun her back around to face me. I put her arms around my neck. She opened her mouth to protest,but I cut her off.
"Christine, hold on tight to me."
"But, Erik-" she tried again to protest.
I used my authoritative 'Angel of Music' voice. "Christine." Her name was all it took and she would not deify me. Thou she may fount my authority as Erik, she would not disobey her Maestro. She let Javert's comment go. I slid one arm behind her back, the other under her knees and picked her up.
We were escorted at gunpoint by Javert and his thugs to a covered wagon. Inside was our pertinent cage. The design was quite brilliant, if I had not been its prisoner at the time, I mite have admired the ingenuity behind it. It was reminiscent of a trapper's cage where one wall can be raised up to make a door. The trick with this one was the locks location. Instead of being where the door and the floor meet it was, by way of chains, next to the axle of the cart.
Once we were in the cage large canvass flaps were unrolled and we were plunged into darkness.