The Phantom's African Rose

Chapter 21: The Argument and A Little Gratitude

Erik's POV

As the grandfather clock chimed five, I knew that in thirty minutes, Evangeline would come home. I also knew that what I did this morning would not be forgotten (nor ignored) by my student, so there was no doubt in my mind that she would be talking my ear off about it all evening, if not for an entire week.  As I watched the clock turn 5:30, I immediately heard the sound of her footsteps as it echoed around the lair followed by the sound of moving water as she had, undoubtedly, gotten into the gondola and was starting to row to shore. 

I turned to my music room, mentally preparing myself for the chaos that might ensue and making myself as inconspicuous as possible. But as she approached, I was not prepared for the unexpected blow upon my head. 

"OUCH! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" I bellowed as I got up to face her, my 6'7" frame towering over her 5'6" one. 

"Oh no, you don't get to ask questions, Mr. I-like-to-drop-backdrops-on-children!" Evangeline yelled back as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

"What are you talking about, woman?!" I asked in confusion, "I didn't drop a backdrop on a child!" 

"Really?" she asked in a sarcastic tone. "Then why did I have to save a five-year-old girl from getting hurt by the same backdrop that you made fall?!" 

I fell silent as I rubbed the back of my head. The shock and anger that I felt after she had struck me had temporarily blocked the slight sting that was now climbing across my scalp as I considered what she just said. 

I didn't know that the ballet rat was near the back of the stage where I had released the backdrop from its place. After all, although I was in Box Five, my attention was focused on Evangeline and, through some mechanical work that I had hidden in this particular box, I only had waved my hand and the backdrop fell at my bidding. 

"Well, I didn't notice that the ballet rat would be stupid enough to be in the way," I replied after there was silence for a few minutes. 

And that was when all hell broke loose. 

"BOY! First of all, her name is Jeannette, not 'ballet rat'. Second, you probably didn't notice because you didn't consider the fact that she's FIVE YEARS OLD, you knucklehead! Back at home, kids her age would be fresh out of preschool, so of course she wouldn't think that some random guy would be dropping something on her head!"  

"And should that matter? I learned how to be aware of my surroundings when I was her age. She has no excuse!"

If she was not aggravated by now, then she was fuming as I watched her chocolate-brown eyes darken. 

"Well, we ain't all child prodigies like you, Erik. Most of us were still learning how to speak in complete sentences!" 

I couldn't help but give a small smirk as I started to reminisce on the history of my pitiful existence. One of the very few things that I took pride in was my superior intellect. Ever since I was unfortunate enough to be born, it seemed that the entire world was against me, but somehow I was given the mind of a genius and because of this, I had found multiple ways to survive in this cruel, wicked world all by myself. 

I taught myself how to read and write at the age of three when my own mother was too afraid to come upstairs to the attic, I learned to master the art of ventriloquism and had discovered how to take things apart and fix them back up again by the time I was four-years-old, I was composing and playing complex musical pieces by the time I was five and when I escaped my master at the age of nine, I had become knowledgeable in the art of thievery and self-defence as I wandered the earth for four more years until I found sanctuary in the home of a kind stonemason.