Chapter Four
The Opera Years 1850-1870 Part II
As time passed Erik began to critique the performers and their performances. He even offered advice to Alphonse for little presentations his mentor had worked on to use as entertainment before a performance. Erik practically wrote the whole piece by the time he had finished picking apart what Alphonse had penned himself. Alphonse did not mind as he would be the first to admit that Erik could be declared a true genius when it came to music.
When Erik completed his composition, for now it was his, he tried to think of a way to receive compensation for his talent. He would not take from Alphonse the little recompense he had received. Alphonse did not get paid his true worth as it was.
For many months Erik considered things. He continued the status quo for a while. He would make little changes in the notations for a performance baffling the directors as well as the chorus instructor. The only section he left strictly alone had been the ballet corps. Antoinette would not have been pleased for him to dabble in her chosen field of expertise.
Erik finally decided it to be time to collect for all the things he did around the opera house. All the little repairs that went unnoticed, costumes that were not nearly ready when needed, suddenly appeared finished with little additions in the designs that made them even more spectacular. Erik calculated his worth based on the amount of salaries all those department managers received. He added them then tacked on a little just for good measure. His total came to roughly 20,000 francs a month.
That sum far exceeded what he needed to survive but Erik had come to know that things were always changing and he needed to be prepared for any change that might come in the future.
At first the manager Monsieur Lefèvre laughed off those notes Erik left on his desk as a prank. Who would expect to be paid 20,000 francs sight unseen? Indeed what man received such a salary? That amount would pay several top employees for a month.
When those notes continued to be dismissed Erik's ire rose up. He began to add dire threats to his missives. Still he was summarily dismissed as a prankster.
Deciding he needed to convince this man of his serious intent Erik left a note stating he would be causing minor accidents during the next performance.
The night of the performance Monsieur Lefèvre sat in his usual box expecting to be entertained as always. What he expected and what actually happened were miles apart.
Scenery mysteriously fell, landing on the performers. Instruments that had been in perfect tune suddenly screeched with discordant notes. The lights flickered when they should not causing concern among the confused patrons.
All in all the night could be called a dismal failure. To say Monsieur Charles Lefèvre was upset would be a mild statement. This evening could cost him a few tickets at the box office tomorrow. Revenue he could ill-afford to lose.
Charles returned to his office as he did not think he could bear facing his wife's questions this evening or give the honest answers to her questions. Upon seating himself Charles took notice of the small envelope sitting on his desk. He feared opening it just as he feared the consequences if he ignored it.
Opening the envelope then pulling out the note Charles read the words with a mixture of fear and outrage.
My dear manager,
As I stated in my earlier notice things would not go smoothly during the upcoming performance should you disregard my instructions. As you chose unwisely not to adhere to my demands you suffered the consequences.
Let us not begin our association on such a sour note. Please let us go on from here as if we had just sealed our bargain. I am sure you will prove to be a wise man and forgo any further disastrous displays during what should have been an untroubled evening.
Please place my salary in an envelope and have a young ballerina, Antoinette Devereaux, deliver it to box five, which from this moment shall be kept empty for my exclusive use. Do not try my patience good Monsieur.
What I have done thus far is only a small example of what I am capable of. You are free to test me if you wish but in light of your current financial situation I think it would be foolish to ignore my demands. Give in graciously and we shall form a most amiable bond, one that will be of benefit to the both of us.
You have until just half an hour before tomorrow night's performance to deliver your answer to me. I must say it would grieve me to have to destroy any part of this grandiose building, but needs must.
Until tomorrow I bid you a cordial adieu,
O.G. or if you prefer, the Opera Ghost or perhaps as some have dubbed me, the Phantom of the Opera. You may choose whichever address makes you feel more comfortable.
Adieu once more,
O.G.
Charles could only stare in disbelief at the words on the paper as they began to dance around in front of his eyes. How could this, this O.G. person know of his financial difficulties? It was outrageous. This unknown person dared to blackmail him, make demands about his own theatre? Preposterous. Still…
Charles had heard the rumors that had begun to circulate about some mysterious phantom stalking the opera house. He had dismissed it as theater folk tended to be a bit high strung and prone to flights of fancy. Their easily swayed minds proved to be invaluable to grasp some fanciful roles meaning properly but totally useless in the real world.
Over the last five years or so he had heard of all the little mysteries being performed by some unknown fairy or Phantom as the theater employees preferred to call this unknown entity.
Erik did not exaggerate his abilities. Over the last five years he had learned every nook and cranny of the opera house, above and below. He had changed things to suit his own needs. Passageways had been constructed. Hidden doors had been made where only solid walls had been before. Trap doors had been added as well as other various means of defense. Antoinette no longer came down to him as it would now not be safe. He always contacted her when he needed something.
Monsieur Lefèvre had given in to Erik's blackmail and thus had been formed an association that would last for the next twelve years.
Things had gone along smoothly for the most part. Erik made his demands as to performances and performers. Objections were made. He performed some slight difficulty that persuaded everyone to adhere to his demands.
As the years passed Erik came to depend on Antoinette less for his needs other than the notes to the manager. Antoinette's marriage and giving birth had all but severed any ties the two had.
Antoinette only saw Erik briefly now that she had taken the name of her husband, Pierre Giry. Erik had sulked and thrown fits for days destroying anything that had the misfortune to catch his eye.
Antoinette had been his long before that man Pierre had come to the opera house to work as a mere stagehand. Antoinette could do better. If she had waited a few years Erik ranted, he could have offered her much more than a paltry stagehand's salary.
Once Erik had come to accept things as they were he pulled even further back from Antoinette. He could not bear to see how happy that man made her.
When Pierre had died of a fever four years later leaving a young widow with a three year old, Erik offered his help in financial matters only. He did not even make the offer face to face. By this time Erik had almost completely cut himself off from the whole of humanity. It had been far easier not to see how happy Antoinette had been without him from a distance.
His contact with the outside consisted of notes placed on the counters of different shops with instructions as to what, when and where to leave items. Money would be left in a fake drainpipe, the only black pipe on the side of the building. The desolate shade of black had become one of Erik's favorite colors over the intervening years. It suited his melancholy mood most of the time.
Time passed and little changed other than Erik became less tolerant of any person he found lacking, be it a performer on stage or someone assigned a menial task. There could be no legitimate excuse for sheer laziness.
Injuries began to mount as workers entered into what Erik considered his domain. One man in particular drew Erik's wrath more than once. Joseph Buquet. That man tried to follow Erik every time he saw a shadow on the wall in the upper region of the stage. Erik knew that sooner or later he would need to deal in some permanent way with this man. His habits alone were disgusting. Erik might be a dweller in the lower bowels of the opera house but his personal habits could compete with any fine noble gentleman.
Erik had spent many evenings during a performance perusing the other audience members. He had observed how a true gentleman treated a woman he had feelings for. Although only a young man just on the cusp of becoming what some may consider adulthood for most young men, Erik found himself having strange and disturbing thoughts about those ballerinas and the many beautiful girls and women who made up the chorus.
When his body began to behave in a particularly embarrassing fashion Erik sought the answer in books. He needed to know if he experienced these things because he really had been born a demon or if others had the same wicked thoughts and dreams with the same result every morning.
He even began to feel somewhat flustered in Antoinette's presence. He would not let himself degrade either one of them by making ungentlemanly advances, even if he thought she would welcome such a thing. Antoinette had been in mourning for her husband.
Erik kept himself separated from all those women who occupied what he now considered his opera house, not wishing to become one of those poorly behaved patrons that took up residence of the many corridors after a performance in hopes of snagging a woman for the night.
Erik had seen too many young girls forced to leave due to some man planting his seed where it should not be. Erik vowed never to do that sort of thing to any woman. When, if ever, he found a woman he might chance approaching, she need not worry that he would expect anything other than companionship unless he found her willing to offer more. Of course then the possibility of creating something in his own image would spoil any happiness he may find. With his cursed face he dare not try to bring forth something that might be even more cursed than he himself had been. As hard as if would be Erik thought companionship alone should be all he hoped to attain.
Erik had serious doubts about ever finding a woman who could look beyond what God had given him in place of a face, to see the man beneath all the horror everyone saw when they looked upon what passed for his face.
Antoinette had never shown any of those emotions that others displayed when she viewed his face. Erik considered her one of the rare exceptions. As the years passed Erik missed his friend dearly. She had injured her knee during a performance. She had landed wrong and pulled the ligaments in her knee. She had been told she would never dance again. Erik had not told her but it had been his influence that had gotten her the position of assistant to the Ballet Mistress. When that woman retired the position had naturally been offered to Antoinette.
When she had been called away to attend the funeral of one of her husband's friends Erik had missed not being able to at least see her from afar or watch her as she instructed all those promising talents. Meg her daughter would one day be prima ballerina he was certain and it had nothing to do with whatever threats or demands he might make. Meg truly had talent.
Erik had been quite surprised when Antoinette brought back with her a little sad eyed girl perhaps eight years old. To a young man of twenty-five she had been of little interest to him.
On one of his nightly rounds just shy of a month since little Christine's arrival Erik heard sobbing coming from the chapel. Not many here in the opera house made use of the chapel.
When Erik squeezed himself into the cubbyhole behind the alter he pulled out the little plug that covered his spy hole. He saw Christine with her head lying on the alter with her arms folded beneath her head.
"Why papa, why? Why did you leave me? First maman, now you. What am I to do here? I do not know anyone here. Madame Giry is kind as is her daughter Meg but they are not my family. I miss you. When will my angel come papa? When will he come to guide me as you promised?"
Erik saw her raise her tearstained face to glance around as if she expected to see her angel at this very moment. Erik could never say for sure what possessed him to answer Christine's plea but something in her pitiful face called to something in him with the same suffering of abandonment.
"Child, do not cry. Christine you are not alone. I will never let you be alone again for as long as you wish me to come to you. Is it your wish for me to come?"
"Oh yes. Are you my angel? My Angel of Music papa promised me?"
Erik bowed his head trying to decide if he dared enter into this blasphemes deception. Surely God, that most hateful of all deities would not begrudge Erik deceiving this child so that he may offer her some small measure of comfort? This little girl was one of God's own angels. If Erik could show this little kindness, who would it hurt? Years later that question would come back to haunt Erik repeatedly as the years passed and his benevolent feelings for Christine changed as she matured and her beauty and voice rivaled all who had ever stepped foot on any stage.
Erik began teaching Christine how to sing. His pride in this accomplishment colored how he perceived all the other singers who came to grace the stage of L'Opéra Populaire.
To Erik, Christine had become the angel he once thought her. In his eyes she was perfect. His plans for her began to take a nasty turn the year she turned seventeen.
Erik thought Christine to be ready for her début. During this time Erik had let his interest in the opera house wane. To his surprise Monsieur Lefèvre had decided to retire. If Erik had asked the man would have told Erik that his decision had come in no small part due to Erik's increased demands and sometimes near fatal escapades.
Erik positively hated the new Italian diva, La Carlotta. He supposed her voice would be adequate for some roles but not for the lead soprano. That position he had ear marked for Christine.
Erik had become somewhat of a despot. He had control over the opera house almost exclusively and over Christine's life completely. He told her who she could and could not see. She was to have no interaction with any male who may wish to call on her as her time would be better spent on her music and not on frivolities. Erik would not admit to himself that most of his dictates had more to do with chancing Christine falling in love with some young swain than it did any artistic reasoning.
Another disturbing factor had been when he began to notice Meg on stage more and more as she grew more graceful as well as becoming somewhat of a beauty. She caused the strangest sensations to rise within him.
Erik found his eyes drawn to her even when Christine graced the stage with Meg. His body's reaction to Meg disturbed him. Should not he only feel this attraction toward the one who had won his love and devotion? Erik felt somewhat disloyal but could not control the way he reacted when he watched Meg dance.
He even found himself seeking her out just so he could watch her graceful movements when she spoke to others. Her voice struck some cord within him which confused him as Meg did not sing in the way that Christine did. Should not only Christine be the one to bring him such pleasure from mere words?
When Erik nearly approached Meg one evening after a performance he had angrily removed himself from temptation. He would only think of Christine. Meg was not the one he wanted or needed. Christine would serve his music much better. What he felt toward Meg he convinced himself to be only the lustful stirrings of a man for any pleasant looking woman. Erik thereafter avoided any place he might see Meg. He even had to forego watching rehearsals when the dancers took to the stage.
The arrival of two new managers and a new patron heralded the end of L'Opéra Populaire as a proud building of the arts. In the end it would be nothing but a pile of smoldering rubble. One could also say it brought about the end of the Opera Ghost and Phantom of the Opera in one fell swoop.