by Joy Elbel
Crimson’s flight to freedom turned into an immediate run for cover. Just as she made it to the dressing room, she heard footsteps and hid behind the rack of costumes. She waited until she was certain that Jonas wasn’t returning then ran barefoot through the snow to the first open business she could find where she called the police.
As each person gave their account of what happened the night before, I could sense growing apprehension from both Zach and Lucas—and neither one of them seemed willing to explain what brought them to the theater. They both gave vague, brief explanations of how they ended up there right when I needed them.
“I thought Rachel was still there. While I was looking around, Jonas hit me on the head from behind. I woke up tied up,” was Zach’s excuse.
“I went back because I forgot my phone. I heard noises and went to investigate,” was Lucas’s. While I felt that at least part of their responses were true, I knew that they were both still hiding something. Something big.
Secrets keeping them. were far less fun when I wasn’t the one
41. Kiss and Control
Most days my shifts at Something Wick-ed were pretty much the same—stocking shelves and listening to old ladies complaining that the shelves were never stocked. Aside from occasional visits from friends, everyone who walked through the door was there to shop for candles—not to talk to me. My next day at work was anything but typical.
About twenty minutes after I opened, a fancy black car rolled up outside and parked directly in front of the store. Cars like that one usually didn’t drive through Charlotte’s Grove let alone stop here. It just wasn’t a fancy car kind of town so obviously I was curious to see who got out of it.
A dapper looking older gentleman stepped out of the luxury sedan wearing a long coat and a bowler hat. He used a gleaming silver cane to help himself up onto the sidewalk and came to a stop in front of the store. He glanced at the sign as though he were making sure he was in the right place then proceeded to pull the door open. He carried with him an air of sophistication and refinement and I found myself straightening my spine as he approached. He simply wasn’t the kind of man you slouched in front of.
“I don’t even have to ask your name. I can see right away that you are Ruby Matthews,” he said with a stern deep voice. “You are exactly who I came to see.”
Me? Wtf?! I immediately ran down through the list of things I possibly could have done to attract the attention of a man like him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who paid social visits for no reason—he was clearly all business. His mere presence left me speechless.
“My name is Giuseppe, Giuseppe Mazzerati. Some most unfortunate occurrences have led me back to your small town. Something even more unfortunate has led me to you.”
I relaxed slightly when I realized who he was—he was Jonas’s father. Then I realized that he was probably there to accuse me of killing his son and I stiffened my spine a bit more. This was going to be awkward.
“Mr. Mazzerati, I can explain—,“ I began with absolutely no freakin’ clue of how I was going to explain anything to him whatsoever.
“No,” he said as he raised a white gloved hand in protest, “it is I who should be explaining things to you.”
Okay, now I was just confused. And scared, definitely still scared. “I’m here to explain and to apologize,” he said as he lifted a small heart shaped candle from the display, examined it then placed it back on the shelf. “I heard about all of the terrible things that my son has done and I feel that I am to blame.”
My first impression of him was that there wasn’t a single thing in this world that this man and I could possibly have in common but I was wrong. Guilt, we both shared misplaced guilt.
“But I’m sure that none of it was your—.” With another raise of the white glove, I stopped mid-sentence. “Please hear me out before you make that statement, Miss Matthews. I knew that my son was not mentally well. I’ve known that his whole life. He was a difficult child but never dangerous. When his mother left us, Jonas was only five years old. She couldn’t handle the strain of caring for a child like him and ran away with a young stage hand. I kept hoping that she would return once she remembered her love for both Jonas and me. Repeatedly, I told him that if he was an obedient and patient boy, his mother would return to him.”
“As the months and years passed, he became more and more anxious for her return and I noticed a disturbing change in him. He began to withdraw emotionally into a fantasy world where he saw himself as The Phantom. He found a series of long forgotten passageways within the theater itself and roamed them during each production. You can imagine how excited he became when he overheard people attributing his nightly wanderings to The Phantom of the Bantam. The Phantom of the Opera was his mother’s personal favorite and I think he thought that if he became the Phantom, that she would return.”
“Eventually, I knew that I couldn’t indulge his fantasies any longer. I blocked off the passageways and removed the masks from the balcony. Those masks were fashioned in his mother’s likeness shortly before she left us and he stared at them constantly. She was such a beautiful woman, my Madeline. You bear a striking resemblance to her. I see why Jonas became fascinated with you.”
Just when I thought I’d figured out everything there was to know in this strange set of circumstances, I discovered one last clue that I never should have missed. The day that mask fell from the balcony, Jonas told us that it was the likeness of Charlotte Baker. I should have realized right there that something was wrong. A portrait of Charlotte hung on the wall at Rosewood and I walked past it several times each day. That mask looked nothing like her—it more closely resembled Scarlet who in turn looked a lot like me. If I’d paid more attention to the details, even Jonas would be alive today. I listened even more intently to Giuseppe’s story, enthralled at the intricacies of it all.
“When I saw that this only made his obsession grow, I took him away from here. Life in New York City, while difficult at first, seemed to be exactly what he needed to break free of his imagined persona. For years, he behaved normally and I believed that the worst was behind us.”
“Five years ago, the college theater arts group attempted to reopen the theater but I never learned of the tragic death that occurred during this time. Returning to the Bantam must have retriggered his obsession and led him to kill that poor young girl. Jonas and I lost touch in the last few years and I believed him to still be teaching in New York. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own career and sharp denial of my son’s dangerous potential, lives would have been saved.”
Giuseppe sighed heavily and motioned to the stool beside me. “May I?”
“Of course,” I replied and pulled it out for him. He dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out what appeared to be an expensively bound leather checkbook and a black pen. “I did not tell my son the truth about his mother because I didn’t want him to feel as abandoned as I did. Because of that lie, innocent people died. I will pay for that mistake for the rest of my life. I will compensate the families of those whose lives he took as well as you and the other young lady who survived.”
I watched with curiosity as his pen swirled elegantly around on the paper, unable to see the amount. I wasn’t a greedy person—I was simply hoping that the check would be enough to cover even a third of the cost of replacing the window in the school. I’d never had to raise three thousand dollars before and every little bit I could contribute myself would make the job that much easier.
He carefully tore the check out of the book, folded it precisely in the middle then handed it to me. “I only ask two things of you. First, when you cash this I want you to remember that while lying may feel good at the time, the truth will always feel better in the end.”
I nodded my head in agreement. While I pondered the fact that he seemed to know exactly how I felt in so many ways, he stood up slowly and made his way to the door. Before he left, he said one last thing.
“Second, I ask that you grant this
old man the pleasure of your attendance for the opening night of “A Phantom Affair”. Without Jonas, I am its only possible director. It was my son’s twisted view of love and devotion but it is my only way of honoring his memory.”
“I will,” I agreed with enthusiasm. While Jonas was a psychopath in everyone else’s eyes, I couldn’t forget that to his father he was something else entirely. He was a terrible regret.
I waited until the car was out of sight before I opened up the folded slip of paper in my hand. Twice, I blinked and counted the zeros I found on it. When I came up with the same number the second time, I screamed out loud. In my hand was a check for one hundred thousand dollars.
From that moment on, my luck seemed to change. Everything started to go my way for once. The x-rays Dad ordered on my ribcage revealed that the injuries I sustained when I flew through the wall were merely bad bruises and that nothing was broken. When I tried to give Mr. Raspatello a check to pay for the window, he refused it. He explained that he thought I would learn more from the fundraising experience than I would by simply forking over some cash. Since he had heard about the kidnapping, though, he gave me an extension on getting the Black Raven Society under way. He was also happy to inform me that one of my short stories made it to the semifinal round of the contest he entered it in. I walked away from our conversation three thousand one hundred dollars richer.
My luck held out all week, too. Better grades on tests than I was anticipating, Coach Hunter very excitedly begged me to put my name on the signup sheet for track—my hair was even behaving. The only thing that fell short of perfect was my love life. Every time either Zach or Lucas asked to spend time with me, I would make up some excuse for why I couldn’t. But I’d been running from the problem for way too long—it was time to put it all to rest. I resolved to discuss it with Shelly sometime over the weekend in hopes of having it all sorted out by Monday.
Friday was opening night of A Phantom Affair and Rachel was more excited than I’d ever seen her before. Now that Crimson was safe, she could completely focus on her acting debut. She pranced around school all day like she expected everyone to ask for her autograph. No one did, of course, but it didn’t discourage her the slightest bit. Show time was at seven but she asked me—who for some odd reason she’d begun calling her ingénue—to meet her at the theater at six to help her get dressed. I obliged as any good ingénue would.
Rachel showed no signs of stage fright whatsoever so when she jumped up and ran for the restroom mid-sentence, I was baffled. After about ten minutes, I started to worry. Once fifteen minutes passed, I went to look for her. The curtain would be going up in ten minutes. She needed to pull herself together and do it fast.
“Rachel,” I called as I entered the restroom. “It’s almost seven! Finish throwing up already—you’ll be just fine. You know your lines inside and out now. Don’t be nervous. I know you think this is your big break, but even if you totally bomb out there tonight I really don’t think Hollywood is going to catch wind of it.”
“Oh Ruby,” she called from the back stall, “but they may catch wind of something else! I’m not nervous and I’m not throwing up—I have diarrhea and horrible stomach cramps. No joke—if I go out on that stage, I’m going to end up crapping in my costume. I can’t risk embarrassing myself that way!”
Most people have a nervous bladder—leave it to Rachel to have a nervous colon. “It’s just your nerves. You’ll be just fine,” I said, completely believing that was all it was. Until I heard her groans of pain among, well, other noises.
“Now do you see what I mean? Giuseppe had food delivered for us but I didn’t eat anything weird. Everything came straight from the All American Diner and you know as well as I do that I’ve eaten there like a thousand times. Other than that, all I had was an energy drink. It must be the flu. Everyone else in the family got it weeks ago and I didn’t. It must have been incubating in there, waiting to attack me at the worst possible moment.”
Mentally, I chuckled at the fact that she thought the flu virus spent weeks plotting the demise of her future acting career. But to Rachel it was not only plausible, it was precisely what happened to her. I had to find a way to convince her that she was going to be just fine.
“Hey, Shelly is like a walking pharmacy. I’ll ask my dad what you should take to settle yourself and chances are she’ll have some in her bag. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
The sound of sobbing now echoed through the restroom. “Thanks, Ruby, but that isn’t going to help me any. Even if she has the miracle cure, I’m still going to worry the entire time I’m out there. There’s only one solution to this problem. You have to take my place.”
“I have to WHAT?” The flu was affecting more than just her digestive tract if she thought I was going to get on that stage instead of her. That idea was cra-zy!
“You heard me, Ruby. You know Kira’s lines just as well as I do—maybe even better. You have to do it. Quick, get into the stall beside me and switch me clothes.”
“That’s insane! You’re insane. I can’t go out there. I won’t go out there.” “You have to, Ruby. If you won’t do it for me, do it for Giuseppe. This is his tribute to his son. Regardless of how you feel about Jonas, you know how awful his dad feels about everything that happened. Not to mention the fact that he gave you a nice fat check to make up for everything you went through. You owe it to him, Ruby.”
Dammit. Why did she have to go and lay a guilt trip on me? Theoretically, yes, I could recite every line of that play— not just her part. I spent countless hours helping her rehearse plus at least triple that amount of time sitting in the audience while everyone else ran their lines, too. But I had no desire to be the center of attention. In fact, I shied away from it every chance I got. Less than five minutes until show time and I gave up hope of getting Rachel to take the stage. My luck was excellent all week long but would it hold out long enough for me to not make a complete fool of myself tonight?
I made a rash decision and flung open the stall door next to hers. “Hurry up and toss me your costume! But if I walk off that stage tonight with serious psychological scars, I’m sending you my therapy bill.”
As I ran backstage to take my place, one thought entered my mind. What’s the worst that could happen? For the first few scenes, I was less emotionally expressive than a department store mannequin. Stiff motions, wooden delivery. Slowly though, I began to feel more comfortable. By the second act, I was positively glowing. I’d never dreamed of exposing myself in that kind of way, of setting myself up for either epic praise or epic failure. The feeling was incredible—like sky diving naked in a thunderstorm. The fear, the adrenaline, the vulnerability all mixed together into a wonderful euphoric cocktail. I was having the time of my life. As the final scene approached, I started to become sad that it was almost over. Rachel would surely feel fine by tomorrow and she would be dying to reclaim her role. I had to make those precious few moments last.
Since either Lucas or I were in almost every scene, I hadn’t had a chance to explain to him why I was playing the part of Kira instead of Rachel. When we finally had a moment to talk, he didn’t give me an opportunity to tell him what happened.
“Wow, Ru! You’re incredible out there! Didn’t I tell you to never say never? You bring life to the character in a way that Rachel doesn’t. If you had tried out for the part like I told you to, I guarantee you would have gotten it instead of her.”
“Really? Thanks, Lucas! I was super scared at first but the longer I was out there, the more natural it felt and I started to enjoy it. Oh, but we only have two more scenes left and my acting career is over.”
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll just make these two scenes the absolute best they can be. I have two ideas for how we can make the most of them.”
“I’m all ears—what have you got for me?” “I was thinking that it would make the final scene much more powerful if you could shed a tear or two as you tell me how much you love me. Can you cry on command?”<
br />
Holding back tears was my specialty. Would I be able to force one or two out just for the sake of the play? I decided to give it a try. I searched my memory for one of the saddest moments I’d collected in my life—how I felt when Mimi died. I dug deep into that pain—wallowed in it—until I felt the moistness in my eye accumulate into a single tear.
Lucas smiled and gave me a fist bump for my efforts. As the scene ended and we needed to take our places, I asked quickly, “What’s your second idea?”
He tossed me the necklace that Kira was supposed to be wearing, the one Erik gave her and would have to comment on in one of the last few lines. “You need to take off all of your other jewelry, too. Everything about the costume needs to be the same tomorrow night even if Rachel is the one playing the part. It’s an old theater superstition.”
“Thanks,” I said as I slipped the beads around my neck. “I certainly don’t want to bring any more bad luck down on this production.”
I slid my promise ring off of my finger without hesitation and stuffed it into my pocket. Ever since Lucas pointed out that never taking it off even when it made sense to wasn’t exactly what Zach meant when he gave it to me, I’d removed it every night before bed. It’s a good thing I got used to not wearing it on occasion otherwise I would be having a panic attack right now. I took my place on stage just as the curtain rose.
It’s weird how some of the most monumental moments of your life happen when you least expect it. The final scene, the final line—not just of the play, but of a confusing time in my life. As Lucas took my hand in his and raised it to his heart, he pressed his lips to mine. I’d watched him and Rachel rehearse the part dozens of times. The kiss between Erik and Kira was meant to be nothing but a soft, sweet peck and that was exactly what I was prepared for. But if there’s one thing I should have learned in life by now, it was to expect the unexpected.
