~by Stephanie Piro
Erik could tell there was something odd about his lesson with fourteen-year-old Christine. She seemed preoccupied and would pause every so often and glance behind her as if expecting someone to come through the door. Usually she was an enthusiastic student, always ready to test her voice and wanting to please her Angel of Music, that invisible tutor.
“Suppose we take a break, my dear, and tell your angel what is distracting you from today’s lesson.”
He could see that she had visibly paled at his words. “I can’t,” she replied. “It’s a secret. I promised.”
Glowering at his pupil through the mirror, he caught himself before he snapped at her. Calming himself, he instead tried a different approach. “I see. A secret promise, is it? Surely you have no secrets from your all-seeing angel, have you? I am sure I already know exactly what your secret is…”
“You do? You already knew that Meg was planning to elope tonight with Count Rene Duval? He has been very taken with her, as you know, and has bought her little gifts and treats after rehearsals. Madame Giry doesn’t know; she thought she was with me, in my room. I have never lied to Madame Giry …or anyone, for that matter. I don’t know what to do!” And here, tears began to run down her pretty face, causing Erik to want to reach out and wipe them away with a silken handkerchief, had he one on him, and had he not been an invisible angel.
Of course, he knew nothing about this disgraceful behavior on Meg’s part. And little escaped his knowledge of anything going on about the many levels of the Opera House. Meg was pretty and an accomplished dancer and Antoinette’s only child. Her elopement would break Antoinette’s heart, not to mention ruin Meg’s career and reputation.
He had heard of this Count Duval. He was a known lothario around town and had had his share of dancers swooning over his attentions. Why focus on an underage ballerina when he could have had many a lead or Prima on his arm? He doubted this count’s intentions were sincere. Well, Meg was not going to be anyone’s toy. He would see to that!
“Do not trouble yourself, Christine. Wash your face and rest. We will continue our lesson tomorrow. I will see to it that no harm comes to Meg.” Though I cannot promise the same for Count Duval, he thought to himself.
Swiftly snaking his way through the tunnels, secret passages, and catwalks, Erik soon arrived at the girls’ dormitories and the rehearsal rooms, where he entered a small passageway that allowed him to observe the rehearsal rooms. As he suspected, Meg was seated on the edge of the stage, a small carpet bag at her side. She looked as lovely and innocent as the child she still was. At fourteen, she was petite with blue eyes and golden hair. She swung her legs and every so often checked the clock on the wall.
Steeling himself, he used his ventriloquist skills to announce, “Meg, do you hear me?”
Meg looked around the room nervously. “Who is it?” she asked.
“I am the Opera Ghost. Have you heard of me?” Meg clutched her bag to her. “Everyone has heard of you… um, Monsieur,” she whispered.
“Then you know that I am aware of everything that transpires within the walls of my opera house. And I am not pleased with something that is about to happen.”
“What, Monsieur?”
“That a certain young ballerina is about to make the gravest mistake of her life.”
“I see.” Meg breathed. She had blushed and then gone pale at his words.
“Meg, I want you to go up to Christine’s room and stay there. I will not allow someone as young and talented as you to throw away your life on that so-called minor royalty. Did you know he has had his way with many dancers and show girls all across France with his lies and promises?”
“Rene has been kind to me. He said he loves me…” She tried defending herself, but feeling less sure of her own feelings in this matter and almost relieved that someone had stepped in to prevent this impulsive act. “He asked me to marry him,” she went on hesitantly.
“Do you really want to be the wife of a stuffy man old enough to be your father? Do you want him telling you what to do and how to behave and perhaps never allow you to dance?” Erik snarled.
“No, now that you say those things, I do not ever want to give up dancing. It is my life. I don’t want to hurt Rene…he’ll be here at any moment.”
“Do as I say and go to Christine. I will handle this count.”
And with that, Meg grabbed her bag and cloak and raced away towards Christine’s room with not even a glance over her shoulder.
Christine startled at the rapid knocking at her door. “Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s me, Meg, let me in!”
“Oh, Meg!” Christine embraced her friend and shut the door, locking them in. “I have been so worried about you. What happened? Have you changed your mind?”
“Let us say the Phantom of the Opera changed it for me!”
“The Opera Ghost? Whatever do you mean?”
“He came to me as a voice and told me I was about to make a terrible mistake and ruin my career. He said if I married Rene, I would have to do as he says and maybe not ever dance again, and let me tell you, Christine, no man is ever going to tell me that I cannot dance!”
“The Phantom said that to you? He sounds so much like my Angel of Music…” To herself, she thought, I wonder…?
“They are both wise guardians, then,” Meg replied. “Still, I cannot help but feel a bit sorry for Rene, hoping to find me and finding the Opera Ghost, instead.”
Back in the rehearsal room, Erik removed himself from the secret passage and leapt onto the stage. He had brought with him both his Punjab lasso and his sword. He knew Rene was probably a coward, besides being a sneak.
Not long after the chimes tolled midnight in the square, someone carefully opened one of the doors leading into the now dark room. “Meg, are you there? I have our carriage waiting!” He entered the room and glanced around him.
“Looking for someone?” Erik addressed the count and stalked to the front of the stage, agilely leaping from it, and in no time stood face to face with the shaken Count Duval, who stepped back when confronted with the tall, masked, and cloaked figure before him.
“No?” Erik continued. “Then what brings you to my Opera House at such an ungodly hour? Up to no good, is what I expect,” he sneered. “Or are you preying on underage girls for your entertainment? Were you sincere in your intentions towards this young woman, might I ask?”
Feeling braver, Count Duval pushed back. “What business is it of yours?” he barked.
“What business is it of mine!” Erik raged. In no time the Punjab lasso was around the count’s throat, Erik pulling it just tight enough to make a point. “I am not going to kill you, Monsieur, but I am going to request that you never attempt to contact Miss Giry ever again, nor set foot in my Opera House. If I ever see you again, make no mistake, my little friend here would be delighted to renew your acquaintance. Have I made myself clear? Or do you want to fight for the woman, or rather girl you profess to love?”
Loosening the lasso, Rene gasped for breath. “No, I am done with the little tramp. You can have her!”
Enraged, Erik once again tightened the lasso. “Have you laid your filthy hands on that young lady? Tell me the truth, now. Or I will make you tell me!”
He loosened the lasso enough for Rene to reply. “No, I swear, I never touched her. I was planning to…but now, you see, she isn’t here. I meant no harm. Just a little fun…”
“Fun, eh! Go find your fun someplace else or I swear to you, Count Duval, I have other playthings that I might have some fun with on areas of your anatomy you might not enjoy so much.” And with that, he released the lasso and the count ran for the doors and his life, flying into his coach and beseeching his driver to make the horses go as fast as they could away from the cursed Opera House.
Smiling to himself, and feeling quite pleased at how the Opera Ghost had handled things, he suddenly realized he had meant to present himself to Meg as Christine’s Angel of Music when he told his protégé that the angel would take care of things. Surely, she wouldn’t put two and two together. Oh well, it can’t be helped, he thought. At least my little Meg is safe. For now, anyway.
And back in Christine’s room, Meg and Christine shared some little cakes and hot chocolate that they had beseeched Antoinette Giry for, and Antoinette, none the wiser, was delighted to provide these treats for her two favorite girls.