CHAPTER 35

As the first day passed, then the second, and the third, Erik and Gustave knew things were not as they should be. A moment didn't pass that the man didn't consider going to Lisa and forcing his way back into her good graces, but he was a man with an ego like any other.

Gustave on the other hand would not be quiet on the subject. Although it made him rueful, Erik had to get away. So he left early on the fourth day and went to the park. With the holiday season on the horizon, attendance dwindled to only a few fun seekers. Any staff that had family that they could visit had been given leave to, so only a skeleton crew remained to man the park.

Among them was Madam Giry. Since the night of the concert she'd kept her distance, convinced once again that she was on the verge of ruin. She'd been on hand the night of the Monsters Ball, directing much of the performance, and afterwards she'd lingered to make sure that the concert hall was all in order.

She'd known the master had watched from his box with a guest, and she'd known that after they'd descended into his lair. Not emerging again till the morning. Through a series of carefully directed inquiries she'd discovered the tragedy that had cut their romance short.

Given that several days had passed and neither Erik nor Gustave had visited the widowed woman, and she had not in turn called on them, the rumor was that the affair was over. And the melancholy way Erik sulked around the park that day only bolstered everyone's suspicions.

Antoinette wasn't surprised everything had gone south so quickly. Though she had no suspicion that Erik had anything to do with the old woman's demise, she felt he had some culpability towards it. She suspected that the woman was probably feeling that same liability.

Madam Giry was surprised that her little conversation with the colored made had not caused more of a stir. She had made some veiled accusations that weren't necessarily well founded, but her intention had only been to instill a sense of gravitas for the situation; one that would hopefully filter down to Mrs. Faolan.

Though he never used the common entrances that patrons or employees used, Antoinette knew the moment he entered the theatre. For a while she watched his shadow out of the corner of her eye as he stood observing the remaining dancers rehearse. She knew this was a signal that he wanted to speak with her.

No matter how many years she'd been in the man's service or known his ways, it still made her nervous when he stalked her like this. As the performers dispersed, Antoinette lingered on the stage. The moment the last of them had exited the hall he stepped forward. She remained silent while he circled.

"The girls did well at the concert." He said nonchalantly. Giry gave a small nod. "The men on the other hand have no sense of grace or rhythm. They nearly collapsed the rig every time they ran into it." The older woman's face instantly fell and she began grinding her teeth in agitation.

"Perhaps if you spent as much time communicating with them the proper way to move as you have talking to maids they might have been bearable." He stopped right in front of her, blocking the light that illuminated the stage and casting her into an eerie gloom.

"I haven't said anything that wasn't true." She responded.

"You had no right to say anything at all." Erik's voice reverberated through the theater. "What is it exactly I have done to you and yours to have earned your constant interference in my life?"

"What have WE done by given you everything? And you never see, never acknowledge that we are anything more than disposable." Antoinette caught her breath against the emotion that was threatening to burst forth. "All I've ever done and help you, and look what it's cost me."

"And what has it cost me! What is it still costing me?!" For just a moment, Giry thought she heard some hurt underlying his outrage.

"I don't know what you want from me now. I have nothing left to give." She finished sadly. Erik resumed his pacing around her, making several circuits before he spoke again.

"Madam, I think it's time you joined your daughter." Erik said, mastering his temper as best he could. Antoinette's face fell.

"After everything you're finally getting rid of me. After all we've sacrificed and lost on your account you are goi…"

"SILENCE WOMAN! You're always taking things too far." He breathed deeply before continuing. "You are going to Chicago. I will arrange your passage. When you arrive I will have set up an account for you and Ms. Giry. Its funds won't be limitless, but it will be more than enough for the both of you to live comfortably for the rest of your lives. I will also right letters of recommendation for you both to the conservatory there if you wish, or perhaps you can open your own small studio." He finished.

Erik waited for a moment for her to respond, but she just stood there looking dumbfounded. It was definitely far from what she'd been expecting.

"You would do that… for us?" she asked skeptically.

"I think it's far past time for both of us to let go of the past, though I have not forgotten the service you have given me. The only other thing I need from you is to find a new choreographer for the troupe. Then you are free to go." Erik stopped just before he left the stage, waiting for her reply.

"Very well." She said weakly. So it was over, it was really over.

"Thank you," Was the last thing he said before disappearing. It was the first time he'd ever thanked her.

Madam Giry stood alone in the dim theater. She didn't know if she should be grateful or hurt, maybe she was a little bit of both. Was it really all over? Had the last act of their story been played out and another was about to begin. There was a mixture of relief and consternation warring in her mind.

After all these years of walking in Erik's shadow, Antoinette had acquired a proprietary sense of ownership over his life. From the moment she'd taken his hand and led him away from the frenzied mob of gypsies, she'd held herself as exclusively responsible for his well-being and survival. It had been an instinct so strong she'd even used Meg, her own daughter, to support it.

Who was she now without that purpose and goal? Defeated, Madam Giry left the stage and retreated to her apartment. She set to work right away with the last service she'd give the man she'd idolized for so many years. She finished the advertisement and set it aside for the morning post. The sun had set and she felt more tired than ever before.

There had been few times in her 48 years that she'd given in to tears, even when her lover had left her with a child out of wedlock or her daughter had been banished. But that night she cried herself to sleep.

When Erik stepped out onto the alleyway a cold chill had settled in the air. It made him shutter, but not because it was cold. It was the sense of disquiet he'd been carrying with him, and there was only one way to settle it.

Without another thought of what it, why, when, or how, Erik set out to find the resolution that agonized him. From the carriage to the ferry, then to the city streets he focused on just one thing, Lisa. To see her, hear her, hold her, was his only aim, because if he stopped to think about why he felt so… no he wouldn't even consider it.

The mansion was covered in a thick shroud of darkness as he approached, like it too had dressed for mourning. The gate was unlocked so he didn't have to scale the wall as he had in the past. He didn't knock on the door of course, because he was already so adept at jimmying the lock, but he didn't have to. It also was no secured, and he stepped in the building without resistance.

The only light he found was a soft glow coming from the right hall, where Mama Aguilar's sitting room was. Like an adventurer in a book, he tread lightly in that direction, not knowing what evil or miracle awaited him. The stillness of the entire house was strange after having spent so many full moments there.

As he reached the room's threshold he scanned the area. At first it seemed there was no life there, but his eyes finally found a lone figure sitting in the high-backed chair nearest the fire. The same chair Mama Aguilar had normally inhabited, but the woman sitting there now as still as death was much younger with copper hair that flowed around her face and sparked the emerald green of her eyes.

Lisa was looking back at him, but it didn't seem she was seeing him. Even as he came into the room and approached she did not acknowledge that he was a real person. When he was only a few feet from being within arm's reach of her, his foot kicked something on the ground.

A wooden box stuffed full with parchment and portfolios lay partially open before the fire. It seemed she might have been burning the contents. It gave him a feeling of foreboding, but it also prompted him to look about the room. All of the furnishings had been draped with white sheets, like when someone was leaving their residence for an extended period of time.

When Erik looked back at Lisa, her eyes were on the fire. She sat stiffly in a black dress that made her look like death's bride. He shuttered at the thought and steeled himself to speak.

"What's going on here?" was all he could come up with. He'd never been a man of few words before. Lisa didn't immediately respond, but she did seem to be blinking herself back to reality.

"I… I'm going away Erik." She said.

"When, where… for how long?" he said, feeling flustered. Lisa's frown deepened as she forced herself to answer.

"Forever"