Erik's POV
The following morning, I woke to heavy rain pouring down among my roof. I stretched and dragged myself out of bed. Usually, when it rained, the only business Coney Island made was the arcades. No one wanted to go to the freak show in the pouring rain, but still, I had to work. After dressing, I headed out in the terrible weather, heading straight towards my podium. When I arrived, I was drenched like a drowned rat and freezing. Though, I didn't complain and sat at my station, ready for the long haul. There was no business, and the only thing passing by the freak show tent was an elephant or two.
When my break arrived, I headed towards the opening of the tent, heading towards the arcade to find someplace dry to sit. Yes, my podium was beneath a hot tent, but even then, it still leaked from the rain. Usually, after work I would find myself buried in my music, but instead, I would be babysitting Christine's child. I wasn't sure how long this would possibly go on, but I knew one thing…If I wanted to get my old life back, I was going to have to help Christine better herself. I didn't want to, but within time, I knew I would be destined to do so. I had bettered her life once before and I knew I would be doing it again.
"Hello, Erik…"
When I heard a familiar voice, I spun around to see Madame Giry standing behind me. Oh, what did she want?
"I do hope that I'm not imposing…"
"Of course not," I scoffed. "Though, it makes me wonder what exactly you want?"
"I guess you haven't read the morning headline?"
From out of nowhere, the woman produced a rolled up newspaper and handed it to me. On the front page, there was a picture of the men I had killed along with a story about it. In the past, I had not been so sloppy with my murders, but what could I say? The years had changed me. Perhaps I wanted to be caught. Perhaps I wanted to be thrown in prison and executed.
"Have you heard of this story?" she asked. "The murderer is still at large. They say he strangled them with some sort of handmade weapon. Sounds familiar, don't you think?"
"No, not at all," I replied. "Each murderer is different in their own way."
"Perhaps, but there are some, whose tactics stay the same."
"What are you saying?" I growled. "Do you actually believe I did this? Oh, you must be mistaken, you vile woman…I have done no such thing."
Yes, I was lying, but I wasn't about to tell Madame Giry the truth. If I did, she was sure to continue checking up on me.
"My life and what I do in my spare time is none of your business, Madame."
"Are people beginning to get on your nerves, Erik? Did those three men do something to upset you?"
"Enough, Madame! I wish to be left alone…"
"Christine says otherwise. From what I've heard, you're watching her son while she works at night. Is that true?"
"Once again, Madame, what I choose to do in my spare time has nothing to do with you. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to get back to work."
"Watch yourself in this new world, Erik…Things here are not the same as in Paris. There are much harsher consequences than we once knew."
I didn't say a word to the woman. No, I simply turned the other way and went on with my business. I had not committed a single murder in the time I had been living here. No, those three men were my first, and they deserved it for what they had done to me. Though, I would never be that weak again, for anyone that ever dared to lay another hand on me would surely pay. When work was finally over, I headed home to change and hurried to Christine's apartment. When I arrived, the woman was already gone and Gustave was playing on the family room floor. As soon as I entered, he ran to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. In all my life, I never had so many hugs as I do now. But why? Why was it that this child always hugged me? Why did he want to?
"Mr. Erik, I've been waiting for you all day."
"Really?" I questioned.
He nodded. "Yes, yes, I have. I want to go to Coney Island and explore the island. Could we go? Please, oh, please could we go?"
"Gustave, I'm not sure your mother would appreciate you and I leaving the apartment all the time."
The boy's smile quickly faded away, leaving him looking as if he were about to cry. Oh, I hope he didn't cry, for if he did, I wouldn't know what to do.
"Please, Mr. Erik? Please, could we please go out? I want to show you something…"
"You wish to show me something?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's something I've never shown anyone before. I want to take you there…"
I knew I shouldn't be taking the boy out, but I agreed to his wish and left the apartment. I expected him to lead me towards Coney Island, but instead, the boy led me towards the beach. Why would we be going here? If there was one thing I hated, it was the ocean and the beach. It wasn't that I couldn't swim, because I could if I had to, but I didn't like being out in crowds. Though, the child was leading me straight past the crowds and beneath the boardwalk that was on the other side of an abandoned pier.
"Gustave, where are you taking me?"
"To Pirate Island…"
"Pirate what?" I questioned.
"Pirate Island," he repeated.
I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but continued to follow him. I followed him for a while beneath the pier, until we arrived at an abandoned fishing boat that was half buried in the sand. The sails were torn, and there were holes in the wood of the boat, but Gustave made it his own, collecting sea shells and decorating it in everything he could find.
"See, Mr. Erik, Pirate Island."
The small boy climbed aboard the boat and took a seat.
"See? I come here all the time and play. Mama doesn't know about it…I only wanted to tell someone that I share my darkest secrets to. Now you know about Pirate Island…"
I hopped into the boat and looked at everything Gustave had collected. This was impressive, especially for a child of his age.
"I'm the captain…And look what I have…"
The boy reached into a storage facility on the boat and pulled out a map.
"See, just like in the story. I made this too…"
He pulled out a cardboard spy glass and held it up to his eye.
"Now I can see fish and storms…"
"That's very impressive…"
"Could we play here for a while?"
"If you wish to, Gustave…"
"Do you think someday I could ride on a real pirate ship?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "You would have to make your own."
"Then that's what I'll do. I'll build my own and sail the seven seas."
The excited child laughed and took a seat beside me. It was only a matter of minutes, before I felt his hand brushing over my sore eye.
"Mr. Erik, did someone do this to you?"
"The world is cruel, Gustave," I said. "It's especially cruel to me."
"Is your job cruel?"
I nodded. "Yes, Gustave, my job is cruel to me. But, without that job, I have nothing."
"Why?"
"Because no one else will hire me."
"Why?"
I pointed towards my mask, and the child's eye became fixated on the object.
"Mr. Erik, why do you wear a mask?"
"I told you before that I was born deformed….There's nothing else to say about it."
"You know, Mr. Erik, I read a lot of stories…Or, at least I look at the pictures. In some books, there are monsters that are scary but do wonderful things."
"Like what?"
"Mama gave me this picture book called "Frankenstein." In that book, he was put together with different body parts and then, his master raised him from the dead…Or at least that's what the picture looked like. Anyway, when Frankenstein came alive, people feared him, but he only wanted others to like him. He searched hard for love…He just wanted to be accepted by others."
"Perhaps…" I pressed my eyes closed.
"And what about the other pirate captains we read about? Some had hooks for hands and others had peg legs and one eye…They all sailed the seas and found treasure. Maybe that's all you need to do, Mr. Erik…Maybe you just need to search for your treasure."
"My treasure?" I questioned.
The child nodded. "Yes…Like in the stories. Pirate's treasure is gold. Maybe your treasure would be a new job…One that would be nicer to you. You said you're good at playing and writing music, so, perhaps you could do that."
I shook my head. "No one wants me, Gustave. I've tried and tried…Besides, I need to make money."
"Well, if Luna Park isn't very nice, then why not make your own place?"
I chuckled. "That's silly, Gustave. Me? Make my own park?"
He nodded. "Yes, we could build it together…It would be better than Luna Park. It could be a place filled with things beyond anyone's wildest imagination…it would be fantastic! Everyone would come, and no one would be mean…it wouldn't be allowed."
"Only in my dreams, Gustave…"
"Nothing is impossible, Mr. Erik…You showed me that when you made me those animals."
There was a long pause of silence, and then, I felt Gustave's hand against my mask.
"I did say that this was Pirate Island, and this is my darkest secret. I only wish to share my secrets with you, Mr. Erik…So, it is only fair that you share some of your secrets with me. I don't want anything hidden between us. Therefore, I want you to show me your face."
"I…I can't…" I stammered.
"Why?"
"Because you would be afraid of me. No one looks upon my face and stays around. Everyone who has ever gazed upon it has run away…It would hurt me if that did the same to you."
"But it won't…" he assured. "The only thing that I'm afraid of is the dark. Please, Mr. Erik…"
I knew the child wasn't going to drop the subject until he saw my face. Therefore, I sighed and slowly pulled the garment from off of my face. I pressed my eyes closed and waited for the scream to occur, but as the moments passed, so did the silence. When I dared to open my eyes, there, standing before me, was Gustave. He was staring at me, his eyes fixated on my face. He hadn't screamed…He hadn't run. Oh, this brought tears to my eyes…
"Y…You don't think that my face is scary?"
The child shook his head. "Nope…Does it hurt you?"
"Only when I keep my mask on for a long time."
"And people pay to see you at Luna Park?"
I nodded. "Yes, and they throw things at me sometimes."
"C…Could I touch it?" he questioned.
Touch me? The child wanted to touch my face? Oh, no one ever wanted to do something such as that. This child was beautiful…Simply beautiful! He pressed his hand against my twisted flesh and smiled.
"It feels strange…Like leather…I like it."
He liked it?! Oh, God was surely playing games with me now. He liked my face? How could anyone like a face such as my own? Christine never even said something such as that.
"I could understand why people are mean to you, Mr. Erik, but that doesn't mean that they should….Even if you don't have a nose, it's not right for others to judge you.
The child wrapped his arms around me, and I did the same to him….He was beautiful and he liked my face…This made me cry. That evening, I tucked the child into bed like I usually did and then, moved to the family room to wait for Christine's return. In all the years I had spent on Coney Island, never had I ever had such a wonderful day. Gustave took a lot of the stress out of my days, and for that, I was thankful. I knew there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for the boy. He never had himself a father of his own, but I knew that I had become the one he never had. The boy latched himself upon me as if he had known me his entire life. He trusted me, and I trusted him. There was an instant bond between us, one that I knew would never fade.
Usually, Christine was home by eleven, but it was already thirty minutes past that. Oh, where was she? Her schedule always stayed the same. I had been watching Gustave for a week now, and never had she once been late. It came to a point where I was now continually looking at my pocket watch, watching both the time, and the front door. When it finally came open at midnight, Christine came walking in dressed in her usual attire, only, something was terribly wrong. As much as I hated the woman with a passion, I always knew her to be smiling, even when I didn't smile back. But tonight, she was not happy and perky…No, when she came into the light, I noticed that her once happy face was stained in dry blood, and the flesh above her eye was cut. Had something happened on her way home from work? Even if I didn't like the woman, no one deserved to be treated differently.
"Christine, what's wrong?"
She was crying now…Caught up in sobs as I caught her before she could fall. I held her up and dragged her into the family room to sit her down. From there, I rushed into the kitchen and wet a cloth, bringing it back to her.
"Did someone do this to you?" I questioned, pressing the cloth against her eye.
She looked up at me and nodded. "It happened at work…"
"Work? You're a waitress?"
Once more, she nodded. "The men were riled up tonight…They…They treated me horribly. No one stopped it. They hit me…"
She couldn't speak any longer. She could only sob into the wet cloth. Oh, they would pay. No one deserved to be treated like she had been treated. Those men would pay. They wouldn't harm Christine any longer. They would perish at my hands, and once I had them, they would suffer. I might have hated Christine, but no one would treat the mother of a child like she had been treated, especially Gustave's mother. I would protect her for his sake, and in the end, she would be safe.
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