We reached the ground level in a sorry state, both for the climbing and the worries that had exhausted us. Besides Raoul's apparent immaturity, we had created a bond that night, and I was beginning to think of him as a friend.
But if that was Erik...why had we to run away? I wanted to ask him why he took Christine with him again, if he was still in love with her...and if he really thought she could give him more than I could.
As we tried to get to the main foyer, a figure appeared from nowhere. It was the Persian.
"You are walking towards the wrong path," he said mysteriously.
"Excuse me, sir?" Raoul asked. "Meg, didn't you say this was the right way to the Foyer?"
"Mademoiselle Giry knows I'm not talking about directions. She knows the way to the main Foyer, you can rely on her. But she has been walking towards the wrong path." He tossed his riddle, and vanished inside some corridor.
Raoul looked puzzled.
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know!" I said, lying again.
We collapsed on a couch in the main foyer, and a few subscribers coming into the Theater to buy tickets for the next day's performance worked as a feeble distraction for me and Raoul, who couldn't think of anything but the last of the Phantom's strike.
I tried to forget what I had seen, and began a conversation with Raoul, trying to calm myself down. We engaged in a long talk, and he told me, among other things, about his decision to give up joining an expedition to the North Pole because of Christine, and all the problems he was going through with his brother to make the Count accept his love for the singer. The boy had some spirit, that I could tell. Perhaps we were two fools, full of good intentions and courage, but who were just watching what we most love slip through our fingers.
The trip he gave up for Christine was a great opportunity in a the navy career he was following, he told me, but it seemed like all the excitement that new cities, the ocean, the fame and the money held for Raoul were nothing before his dreams of marrying Christine.
At the same time, I found myself telling him about my problems with the injury and my wandering into different doctors, as well as my deception in not being able to dance when my sister came to visit me. And it was nothing before the idea of losing Erik like this...
Raoul was, after all, very pleasant company, and not half as snobbish as I had pictured him. As we talked, I followed the movements in the foyer through a large mirror placed ahead of me. And suddenly, instead of my steady image, I found an unbelievable reflexion in it: Christine was just entering the theater, right before our noses.
She was wearing a beautiful hat and her summer cloak, and looked adorable in a dark dress. Raoul followed my stare, and within seconds found her, falling at once at her feet and embracing her, not caring about the suspicious look people around cast on him.
I also run towards her, not willing to miss one piece of the explanation.
"Oh, Christine, do you want to end my life? Why do you keep running from me like that, disappearing?" he asked emotionally.
She just smiled, a little embarassed, obviously not understanding Raoul's despair.
"Where have you been, Christine?" I asked, trying to keep myself cool.
"What is the matter with you two?" she asked with a smile.
"Christine, tell me everything. If that monster laid a finger on you, I'm going to..."
"What is he talking about?" she asked me, good humored.
"He thought...we thought that Erik had kidnapped you..." I answered, sounding really stupid, and not daring to look at her face.
Christine was silent for a second, and then gave a loud and sincere laugh.
"My love..." she patted his blonde hair with great tenderness, "...of course I was not kidnapped!"
She was still giggling, and I didn't know what to think of that ridiculous scene.
"Did you forget I was spending these days in the hospital with Mama?"
I looked at one, and then the other, and couldn't believe it. Restraining my emotions, I confirmed politely, "Is there something wrong with Madame Valerius?"
"Oh, no! That is why I'm so happy! The doctor said he needed to observe her for a few days to be sure of his diagnosis, and he finally came to the conclusion that it was not serious. Just a different kind of cold, I guess. Mama is already back home."
"I'm glad to hear that." I answered, and suddenly I couldn't restrain my enthusiasm anymore. "So tell me, Christine, let me see if I got it right - you spent all these days in a hospital?" I repeated.
"Yes, that I'm aware of..."
"And you did nothing during these days, except taking care of your Mama?"
"Yes, of course. She needed me, Meg. I'm her only living relative..."
"Christine..." I said, overflooding with happiness, holding her face between my hands, "you are a great, great friend! You are the best!" and I placed a kiss on her forehead.
Christine laughed heartily, "I'm still curious to know how you two came to conclusion that I was kidnapped!"
"Oh, I will tell you, Christine! But now I need to run..." I said, leaping to my feet.
"You are a crazy little thing, you know?" she said, friendly, laughing at me. "Where are you going, Meg?"
"I've got a doctor's appointment!"
"What, now?"
"No, in the morning, but I need to go to bed early."
"I didn't know you were going to see a doctor."
"Neither did I! Actually, I wasn't going to...I had given up. But somehow you showed me I should not give up fighting for things I want. Anything. My ballet will be one of two things I'll fight for right away!"
"I did? What are you talking about? And what will be the other one?" She was still laughing.
"Ah, mysteries, mysteries..." I said, leaving the room, spinning in the corridors of the theater.
It was hard to sleep at night when I had so many plans for tomorrow, and the future, and I felt like I couldn't lose another minute before working on them. When the endless night finally decided to lighten up on me, I left the house with all the money I had and went for Marcelle. I needed her by my side before doing this, for I had this feeling that even my mother had accepted the fact that I wouldn't be dancing anymore.
But I knew Marcelle would always believe in me, and support my hopes.
The house had a very simple facade, seen from outside. It was shadowed by a vast tree, and flowers grew in the front yard. That serene aspect gave me some confidence.
It was the doctor himself who answered the door, and he opened a wide smile as he found me in his threshold.
"I'm so glad you came!" he said with so much satisfaction that I felt myself blushing under his look. Besides, I hadn't noticed he was so handsome last time I saw him, given the circumstances.
"Your mother didn't come?" His smile was really disturbing.
"Er...no. No, she couldn't come."
Noticing Marcelle a little behind me, he introduced himself in a very gallant way, and invited us inside
"Please, come in."
The house was incredibly clean, a strong and unpleasant smell of cleaning products intoxicated the air, and the floor glowed under the daylight that flooded the room through the windows. Marcelle made a face to me, behind his back, and I was not sure if she was surprised by the peculiar house or the doctor's looks, which I forgot to mention to her.
"I know the smell might be a little displeasing at first, but you will grow accustomed to it," he said, guessing our reaction.
"It's an ideology some doctors believe to be correct now-a-days: the vital concern with keeping things as clean as possible, free of any contaminating agents."
"Free of what?"
"Oh, don't you worry about this, Mademoiselle Giry. It's just a new theory, and if it proves to be true, it is already taken care of," he added.
"That I had understood, I just wanted more details," I thought a little angrily, because this situation seemed to happen all the time with me. Everytime I asked somebody a little more about their work, or about something more complicated, I would receive a condescendent answer, as if I was too young or too stupid to learn things. Or both.
Actually I had noticed this was a thing Erik never did. Perhaps it came from his loneliness, his need to share things with people, but whenever I asked him to teach me something about a subject, he would be glad in doing so.
For such a sensitive musician, Erik seemed to have a very scientific mind. He would question things deeply, not take uncertain truths, and explore the aspects of reality before him.
He mentioned many times he had been studing and developing some science projects, mostly medicine and physics, and enjoyed relating his ideas and projects with me.
"You are pretty young to be a doctor, M. Ferrat..." Marcelle hinted, with a fixed stare at the doctor's face, as he sat behind his desk, his office much less formal than the one I had visited before.
I just smiled, knowing Marcelle too well to interrupt her actions. We sat on two opposite chairs and I decided to pretend I was examining the room, giving her time to finish her talk.
"Well, actually I'm not that young. I'll be turning 28 by the end of the month...and I don't know what the problem is with people that simply can't conceive the idea of a doctor who doesn't have white hair and reumatism problems." He sounded rather upset.
Marcelle crossed her legs in a characteristically seductive way, placing her elbow at his desk and resting her chin on her hand.
"Oh. I can conceive that."
I almost laughed loudly at the scene. Still, Jonathan didn't seem to fall for her.
"Mademoiselle Giry, the reason I asked you to visit me is that, although my age seems to go against me - he gave Marcelle a reproving look, which she took with a careless attitude - I've encountered some cases similar to yours, and I do believe there are methods to recuperate your skills.
"Really?"
"The statement that once a dancer breaks a bone, or even twists an ankle, they will be left out of their art forever, is very unfair, and worse, not totally true. Although the old schools support it, and it brought me some enemies fighting for my beliefs," he smiled with odd pride, showing his enticing smile once again, "I just know there are ways around it, and all I need is your permission to try it with you."
Marcelle looked at me with suspicious eyes.
"Er...yes, sure, whatever you think might help me to go back to my dance."
"So, basically the method we'll use here will be a series of specialized exercises, that must be repeated twice a day, and you will be able to do that by yourself, once I have taught you the sequence. I will have to examine you again, but from what I recall, the fracture has healed well, and all we need to do is strenghthen the muscles again. I'll ask you to come here at least once a week, so I can verify the improvements, and change things if necessary."
I considered that, and decided to be honest with him. "'Well, sir, it will be far from my budget coming here so often..."
"Mademoiselle Giry, as I told you, this is a new method, and I'll be testing it on you. It is also my interest that you come here, so I won't charge any money for this."
He gave me such a wild look that for a moment I even doubted he was a doctor, and that his interests in me were more than merely scientific. Marcelle seemed to have noticed that, too, because she said, more for sarcastic fun than for jealousy, "Perhaps you would like to examine me, too, doctor."
He simply ignored her and asked me to lay down on a small couch he had in the back of the room, covered with a shining white sheet.
"You've never had so many men caressing your legs as you do now, hum, Meg?" Marcelle teased me, and I had to laugh, because that remark finally made the doctor blush. When he started to examine me, I understood Marcelle had said that in a clever way of turning any excess he might want to take inappropriately.
The examination actually didn't take long, and soon we were back to the blue chairs in front of his desk. He explained to me patiently and in great detail exactly how I should work my muscles, and assured me that I not only had chances of recuperation, but also of dancing sooner than I expected.
Perhaps I wouldn't disappoint my sister so much, at last.
As we left the soap-smelling house, Marcelle teased me all the way back.
"You got the doctor hooked on you, Little Ballerina!" she laughed.
"Do you think it's a good idea going back there?" I asked apprehensively.
"If I think it is a good idea? The worse that can happen is he just acts professionally with you!" She laughed loudly again.
"Marcelle, Marcelle...you are a lost case..." I said laughing to myself, shaking my head at her in false reproval.
"What! Tell me, tell me he is not incredibly cute!" she challenged me, and as I didn't answer and just giggled, she said, "Why don't you pick the doctor instead of the Ghost, Meg?"
Immediately I felt anger stirring inside of me, and grew silent. Not for her harmless joke, but for the fact that I could see the practicality of the situation, and almost understand Christine's attitude in choosing the Viscount. It would be easier.
Besides, I had no idea of how to reach Erik and try to have anything with him. Maybe I didn't have enough complexity or maturity inside me to understand him, help him, or love him. But I had the will to learn how to do it...
Noticing my change, Marcelle apologized for the joke.
"It is not you that upsets me, Marcelle, don't you worry...it is only...everything else!"
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