The Pug of the Opera
I have to apologize for not updating in months. At 4th of November 2017 my own pug died of old age and I could not bring myself to continue this story sooner. Of course I want to continue it and eventually finish it in memory of my beloved pug!
Erik couldn't forget Christine Daae and berated himself for not asking more about her. He knew her name, but that was all. He didn't know where she lived, if she was married or not, if she had a job or not, he knew nothing! Beau didn't mind. He found new friends whenever he left the house, there always were girls or women who wanted to pet him. Men usually laughed at the odd duo Erik and Beau, but even some men found Beau nice and asked Erik if a pug was a good pet for their wifes or children wanted a pet.
They were on their way back from Erik's favorite tailor - the tailor had complained about Beau shedding hair everywhere over the shop and Erik had to pay quite a sum to win back his favor - and Erik shook his head wondering why he was such an idiot, the tailor's daughter had offered to him to make a suit for Beau matching Erik's own dress suit for an exorbitant price but seeing how much the girl loved the pug Erik had agreed. "I am such an old fool!" he berated himself, deciding he would need to get more money. A dress suit for a pug! He must be completely mad!
It was daylight and there were many people in the streets. A man came closer to Erik, then, as he saw Beau jumped aside in shock. "What's that?" the man asked in a funny accented French that made Erik's heart skip several beats. Erik felt like he had just seen a ghost - well, not seen, heared. The man didn't look like he remembered him, but his bass voice was one Erik would never forget. The voice had given him his life back when he had waited for his execution.
"This is a pug, you fool!" Erik snapped in Farsi that was now tainted with a terrible French accent.
Now the other man looked like he was suffering a heart attack. He had to lean against the wall, struggling for breath. The Daroga, for it was him, could not believe what he saw before him. Not that he recognized the face, Erik had not had the prostetics in Persia, with the false beard and false nose Erik looked very different than he had in his youth when he had usually been wearing mask.
Erik smiled. "It is a pug, his name is Beau," Erik explained with a smile, picking up Beau and holding him in his arms. Beau waggled his tail and reached out with his paws to the Daroga. "You can touch him."
"Is that a dog or a pig?" the Daroga asked with a disgusted shudder. Both animals were considered impure and this weird mix of both animals... well, it did fit its master somehow.
Now Erik was really insulted. "Never call my lovely Beau a pig again if you value your life!"
The Daroga had to laugh. They had not seen each other in more than twenty years, both considering each other dead and after learning that they were both alive, not only alive but in the same city, it took less than one minute for Erik to be back to threatening his life. "I missed you too..." he gasped between laughing and trying to catch his breath.
"Now apologize to Beau for insulting him," Erik grumbled. Beau squirmed on his arms and did not look in any way insulted, he tried to reach the Daroga and was licking in the air as he tried to lick the Persian's face. Erik stepped closer to his friend and held the pug up. The Daroga could not escape the pug's enthusiastic kisses. Erik laughed. The Daroga's rather helpless attempt to get away was too funny. When he decided to put Beau back on the sidewalk, Beau rushed to the Daroga, jumped up on him, whining to get his attention.
The Daroga wiped his face and looked down, seeing the pug's wrinkled face, his large brown eyes and the waggling cinnamon-shaped tail. He smiled. This fawn little pug looked like he was the opposite of Erik. Erik looked like he was starving, the dog was rather round, Erik was reclusive and paranoid, the dog seemed to love the whole world. The pug was so enthusiastic greeting the Daroga, the Persian felt his heart opening up to the small furball. He bent down to pet him, touch the silky ears and had to smile at the pug's stakkato snoring.
"He likes you," Erik explained, "But that is nothing new - he loves everyone."
"Let's not talk here on the street," the Daroga offered, "Come to me and have tea."
It did not take long until the Daroga regretted inviting Erik. Erik took the pug with him and as the door was closed he released him from the leash. Maybe half a second later Darius yelled something and came from the kitchen to ask his master for help to expell the animal. He nearly fainted when he saw that his master had invited a guest.
"Darius, bring us some tea," the Daroga instructed him, "Do you remember how Erik takes his tea?"
The servant had to sit down on the floor or he would have fallen. First this unidentified animal in his kitchen and then the frightening magician-assassin of his nightmares. Erik helpfully went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for the poor servant, the man clearly needed it now. Beau decided being alone in the kitchen - with the food well out of his reach on the worktop - was boring and followed his master back to the parlor. He immediately noticed that the man sitting on the floor was unwell and decided to climb on his lap to comfort him.
Darius was close to hyperventilating.
"Don't worry," Erik said with a soothing tone in his voice as he held out the glass of water, "Beau is neither a pig nor a dog. He is a pug. Pugs are... unique animals. Don't worry, they are surely not impure." He winked at the Daroga, who rolled his eyes and shook his head, but said nothing. The Persian accepted Erik's lie because it calmed darius who dared to pet Beau, much to the pug's delight.
"He's purring like a cat," Darius commented wondering if this was a purr or a growl.
"He likes you," Erik explained.
The pug liked Darius even more as Darius went to the kitchen to prepare tea and continue cooking. He followed the servant as if he had done that a thousand times before.
The Daroga and Erik sat in the parlor.
Erik looked around in the flat. "Nice flat," he said, "Even if it is... too French for my taste. I thought you would go for something more oriental."
The Daroga snorted. "What? With a harem and a torture chamber? No, thank you very much, I am done with Persia. Now I am as Parisian as I can get."
Erik shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"And you, Erik? What are you doing nowadays?"
"I was a contractor once but I am retired. Now I am trying to make Beau happy - and this is a fulltime-job, I assure you!"
The Daroga laughed and shook his head. "You love this lapdog, don't you? Well, you seem to be happy. The way you look at him tells me much."
Erik's eyes became soft. "Yes. Beau turned my life upside down when I found him last winter. I guess he must be about ten months old by now."
"If you are retired, you must have earned much as a contractor?"
Erik snorted annoyed. "Is this going to be an interrogation? Yes, to satisfy your curiosity: I was one of Charles Garnier's main contractors. The opera house. I build it. Well, not alone. But very much of what you see there is my work."
The Daroga relaxed visibly. "That's good to hear. So you kept your promise?"
"I did quite well. Except... well... during the Siege and the Communard's terror... I did what I had to do to survive. Otherwise I was just another contractor, living like so many others from my daily labor. Until I had enough and decided to retire."
"Will you invite me eventually?"
This question had been coming and Erik sighed. Of course. It was custom to thank one for the invitation with another invitation. It was... quite possible. Not his real flat, but the fake one. A basement one-room-flat near the opera house. Why not? He could always claim that he lived rather undemanding because he wouldn't want to be forced to work again in his old age. "Erik Cordier, Boulevard des Capucines," Erik said, "A basement flat, but it is enough for an old bachelor like me." There was a certain bitterness in his voice. He could not hide that he felt he missed something in his life. He never had a wife, never had children. If he had married the age gypsy boys did, he would be a great-grandfather by now, if he had married at a normal age he would be a grandfather now.
A crash from the kitchen brough both men to that room. Darius had obviously fallen over the pug and dropped the food he had been carrying.
While the Daroga was worried about his servant, Erik grabbed the dog before he could eat up all food. "You have to be more careful!" Erik scolded Darius, "You could have hurt my poor Beau and he might have accidentally eaten shards! You have to be more careful!"
"Maybe you take him out of the kitchen," the Daroga suggested.
Erik did and placed Beau on his lap on the couch like a duck takes to water. Erik didn't even consider asking before he snatched a pillow to make Beau more comfortable on his bony legs.
"It seems all these years didn't teach you to ask if you want to use something that isn't your's," the Daroga scolded him.
Erik's eyes grew big. "Don't you want your guests to be comfortable? And isn't Beau your guest?"
"Beau is a pet, not a guest!"
Erik caressed Beau as if he had to comfort him. "My poor cute boy. The Daroga doesn't mean it. He's just his usual grumpy do-gooder self." Beau panted and looked highly pleased.
The Daroga had to laugh. "It seems he twisted you around his little finger... or better, paw."
"Yes he has and I love it!" Erik defended himself, "We have to go." He didn't. He just did not want the Daroga to ask him more questions. To his great surprise the Daroga didn't but bid him farewell and as Erik fixed the leash at the dog's collar he noticed that the Daroga noted the name and adress he had given him. He was sure the Daroga would soon show up at his door and excuse himself that it was just a coincidence. Well, why not? There was a normally furnished flat. Erik made a mental note to have some suits and used household items there so it really looked like he was living there and not just using it as entrance to his real home.
On their way back they passed a advertising column and while Beau decided to take his time sniffing around, Erik read the placards. "Take your time," he told the pug, "I like reading the newspaper too." Sniffing a column must be like reading newspapers for a dog.
There was an advertisement for the opera. "Faust" by Charles Gounod, starring La Carlotta, Carolus Fonta and others - and one name burned itself into Erik's eyes. It was just among the supporting cast: "Siebel ... Christine Daae".
"She is a singer..." Erik whispered, "We have to hear her, don't we, Beau?"
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Thank you for reading and please leave a review!
By the way - some did not get the mail about updated stories lately. I don't know why. I hope you get this and maybe those who follow my other stories: If Love Were A Flower has been updated too.