4
Several weeks had passed, peaceful and busy.
Katrina would happily divide her days between her uncle and Mademoiselle D'Arcy. Erick said little when she would pour forth her day's events to his stoic ears, but he gleaned many useful bits of information about the workings above.
Marie found Katrina to be a refreshing puzzle an amusement. The obvious devotion to her uncle, paired with her refusal to talk about where they lived or what her uncle's business was seemed odd, if not disturbing. She was cheerful, willing and learned rapidly. The child's retention of information was astounding. More than once the Prima Donna found her little maid waiting for her, lost in a book, not the kind most children would have read.
Perhaps most puzzling was the girl's matter-of-fact behavior concerning life. She had lost her parents, which lead to a deeper understanding, but her cool observations often startled the jaded woman.
"I wonder why people do that." Katrina said once during a planned shopping trip.
"Do what?" Marie asked, absently.
"Avoid things that make them uncomfortable. Like that woman over there. When the gentleman offered to help her carry her things, all she could see was his old hat. She wouldn't look at anything else, and was quite rude." The girl glanced up at the woman beside her. "What do you see first when you look at people?"
Marie thought about that for a moment. It had been a long time since she had wondered about her reasons behind her opinions of people. Her life had not been conducive to a gentle view of those around her. Since she had been twelve her world had existed solely for her art, the contracts, and the money. Now, she was facing a possibility of more, forced there by the question of a child. After a long time, she said slowly, "I don't see anything anymore. I just know whether I can trust their word or not. I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you, but that was it."
Katrina turned that over in her mind. "You think Uncle Erick doesn't look out for me. Are you going to try to take me away from him?"
The earnest voice caused Marie to stop and really look at the girl beside her. The huge brown eyes bored into the green. "Was it because I said he taught me to use a pistol, or the lasso? He did that because he wants me to be safe when he's not there, you know."
"I hardly think the Punjab lasso is a fitting part of a girl's upbringing. My concern is that I never see him, he never appears. If he is so careful, I should think he'd keep better track of his niece."
Katrina thought that over for a moment, and looked a little uneasy. "He can't be seen. He's…not like everybody else."
"Can't be seen? What in heaven's name do you mean?" Marie felt a stab of fear, the first she had felt for someone else in a long time.
"Not here. When you stop for your coffee?" Katrina pleaded, her eyes growing hopeful, as if the possibility of a confidante was a good thing.
Marie nodded, and they hurried through the rest of the shopping. The restaurant was new, cool white, grey and black graced the walls, and it was quiet. After she ordered a coffee for herself and a hot chocolate for Katrina, she folded her hands on the table. "Tell me. If you wish to remain with your uncle free of any attempt from me, then you must assure me you are safe."
Katrina folded her hands in imitation of her mistress, and leaned forward. "Uncle Erick was born with a different face. It scares people to see him. Mama said it was sad, because he has so many things that make him great. He won't let people see him because it makes bad things happen. He nearly got killed the last time, because of Christine. Because he was wrong too," the girl paused as the waiter brought their drinks.
"Uncle Erick came for me, and helped me. I'm happy with him. He's teaching me everything! You can't imagine what fun we had yesterday talking about poetry. I can't always understand the words, but he always explains. You see, Uncle Erick loves me. He's not gentle like Mama and Papa, but he really does care about what happens to me. If I had to leave him, I'd never stop crying." This sincere declaration made Marie smile a little.
"If he really is what you say," the Prima Donna said, "let me meet him. If I can hear him say that you are safe, and he will look after you, then not another word on the subject will pass my lips."
Katrina pushed her messy hair back from her face, and frowned. "Uncle Erick will have to say."
"Then tell Uncle Erick I'm concerned, and I have a great many lawyers willing to do my bidding."
For the first time, Katrina looked afraid. "You sound like Auntie. Why do you want to take me away? Have I done something wrong? Should I not have told you?"
The look in those eyes hurt Marie. She had overstepped, and tried to correct her mistake. "No, you were right to tell me. I promise, unless I really believe something is wrong, you won't be taken away. Nothing bad will come of this."
Katrina nodded, but held her tongue until they returned to the opera house.
She insisted that Marie follow her up to the roof, up the stairs from the lavish façade the public saw to a world of countless stairs and walkways. It was barren, but tingled with excitement. Katrina continued to until she burst through the doors and a dizzy Marie gratefully leaned against a statue. Katrina climbed up above her like a monkey and laughed.
"Uncle Erick brought me here a few days after we came to Paris. He told me how the statues had been made, and how they had been put here. He taught me not to be afraid of heights. See how far you can look?" Her tiny finger pointed over the roof tops and towards the setting sun. Her eyes shone, eager to grasp the world around her and make it into something new, beautiful.
"Katrina," Marie asked gently, "What do you see when you look at people?"
The child peered at the singer as if the thought were ancient. "I see what they are inside. People are all color and music and silence and sound, and they hurt and laugh. They just want someone to see them. That's what I see when I look at people."