Chương 22: Chapter Twenty-Two
Maria was growing cold.
Paris at night was a cold, damp place. Walking along the streets, Maria felt isolated, despite the dark silhouettes of apartment buildings which loomed over every street the pair walked down. On the street, she only found the occasional lonely lamppost.
Raphael clasped her hand as they walked, sensing her uneasiness around such dark streets.
Maria began growing impatient, wishing they had stayed at the theatre. "Raphael, where are we going now?" Maria asked. She didn't recognise this part of Paris, having never been this far over the brook which divided it.
"Surely, you'll recognise it," Raphael said. The streets became narrow, evidence of stalls on both sides of the cobblestone road as they strolled. They met no one.
There was a large courtyard at the end of the road with a water fountain in its centre, while lovely, it did very little to distract from the marvel that was the Church of Notre Dame.
Even at night, it seemed to be alive. A warm glow radiated through the windows of late-night pastors and twilight prayers. The main bulk of the church were the two large towers, each harbouring a collection of grand iron bells, which were rung in the morning and evening to wake up Paris and declare the church sessions. Clinging to the tops and every corner of the church were gargoyles, symbolically protecting the church from evil as well as its status of various saints.
"Churches have this sense of flawless elegance," Raphael said as they approached the sacred building. "But She is the heart and soul of this city. Her job so important, yet often goes unrecognised."
Raphael looked to his friend, seeing a glimmer in her eyes as the Church of Notre Dame Herself reflected in her glassy, wide eyes.
"Do you want to go inside?" Raphael asked.
Maria was terrified at the concept. "We're allowed to go in?"
"She offers sanctuary to everyone, as your church I suppose. She is always open," Raphael said walking up the steps of the church. At the top he looked down, Maria still taking in the grand church. She rushed up the steps to stand by Raphael as he smiled, "Not to compare churches, but this is the real deal to Sister Wendy's."
Maria watched Raphael approach the large wooden doors, grabbing the brass door handles and pulling the heavy doors. He gestured for her to go first. She gulped as she walked into the church, Raphael soon following.
There was always a tone change for Raphael when he entered a church. The Church of Notre Dame was the only sacred place he truly felt safe entering. But inside always felt different from outside. A feeling of claustrophobia, but not in a negative sense, rather as if something was always in the air, surrounding and filling every empty space in the room.
In the evening, the pastors light all the candles in the church, providing a warm glow down the alter and around statuettes of the Virgin Mary or depictions of Jesus Christ. Hanging from the walls were tapestries of men and women Raphael had forgotten the names of, and artworks of symbols such as doves and roses. A long red rug stretched down the aisles of seats leading to an altar. Unlike the church Maria lived in, there was only one room in this church, one large room.
Maria gulped, almost intimidated by the splendour of the church.
"Welcome to the heart of Paris," Raphael whispered.
Despite the late hour, people were littered about the seat, kneeled in prayer, some holding their rosaries, others in deep, silent prayer. Aside from the ever-present murmurs of men and women, the church was calmingly quiet.
Maria was frightened her footsteps would disturb the silence, while Raphael walked with relaxed confidence. He leaned on a column while looking around the church.
"I thought you weren't religious," Maria said as she continued to look at the images depicted on the ceiling.
Raphael shrugged, "I appreciate religion," was all he countered.
"How come you don't go to the smaller church? You've made it obvious that you won't even set foot on the property." Maria felt breathless as she took in the light spectacle the stain glass window provided, even at night.
"Is that so?" Raphael barely took notice anymore.
Maria looked at him, noticing his dismissive answer. "I won't judge you, Raphael. But why do you dislike Sister Wendy so much?"
Raphael suppressed a laugh, "Asking me while we're in a church seemed appropriate?" Maria hit a nerve, but he was determined to brush it off. "Come on!" He took Maria's hand and walked to a wooden side door. It was unlocked.
Inside was much darker then the nave, stone steps stretched up into the darkness, the only light being the occasional naked flame trapped in an old-style lamp. Their steps echoed hollowly in the empty space of the stairwell as they continued up, with every glance out the windows Maria could see more houses and lights further away.
At the top, Raphael walked through a stone archway, leading to a dark attic-like room. Maria halted at the top step, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy room. Raphael spoke, but she could only see his outline. "Are you coming?" he asked.
Maria nodded, however finding his faceless voice daunting. "This place is creepy," she confessed looking down behind her as she took cautious steps inside. The air was cool but frightfully dusty. Once in the darkness, Maria could see the shape of things more clearly. On the opposite side of the room were large glassless windows allowing the spark from stars to cast haunting shadows into the attic. She could see the ribcage of wooden beams holding up the ceiling, as well as entire wooden floors with stairs leading to them. There appeared to be dozens of floors in the one large attic.
When Maria walked every second step was an agonised creak, when Raphael walked his light steps were silent. She watched Raphael run his hand across some wood, stopping to grab a half-melted candle off the wall. He looked around the room again, Maria wondering how he was able to see anything beyond his nose. He walked to a work table, his hands knocking things over in search of something.
Maria attempted to examine the walls to understand what the room was. As she walked, she lost her balance and leaned against a wall; it was smooth and cold as metal. She gasped as she jumped away from it, realising it wasn't the wooden walls.
"You alright?" Raphael's question had a hint of amusement. He was holding a now lit candle, the small flame illuminating the large room, the further it attempted to stretch the weaker it became. Maria saw she was leaning on a large bronze coloured bell.
"Are these the bells?" Maria's gaze was up to the heavens, every platform she saw had one bell hanging above it. In the light, she saw a line up of six enormous bells connected by three thick strands of rope. When she approached one she could see her blurry features. "Are we allowed in here, Raphael?"
"So long as we don't ring the bells no one will know," Raphael informed holding the candle out as he walked, "Only the Bell Ringer ever comes up here. We're acquaintances, I'm sure he won't mind."
"I feel like you're lying," Maria replied folding her arms.
Raphael shrugged, "Believe what you want." This phrase annoyed Maria.
"Very well then," Maria rubbed her arms to ease the chill, "So why are we here then?"
Raphael slapped his thigh as if remembering something. "If you'll follow me." He started for outside.
Maria followed the candlelight outside, the wind picking up and causing a stronger chill. She stared at the taper, watching the fire flicker frantically. Raphael cupped the flame to protect it from the wind.
Maria went to complain but was cut off by Raphael. "Paris isn't our Queen," he stated looking out to the Parisian city, "Her people and Herself are very different. We're often determined by how our Queen acts, but we aren't anything like her. Some of us have never been in the presence of Her Majesty, some of us have no interest." He turned to face Maria, the breeze managing to disturb his hair under his fedora. "The Queen was rude today, and I'm not you but if I was I would potentially see Paris in the same light as I see the Queen. I've brought you here to make sure your view of Paris isn't… perverted. To make sure you know this place isn't just our Queen."
Maria couldn't meet his eyes. She wanted to go home, back to her small town where everyone knew one another, where she knew the streets and the houses and the animals. Where travellers would come through and offer friendly stories to trade for a cup of milk or some eggs. She wanted to go where she was familiar, and where she wasn't reminded she wasn't wanted. She wanted to go home, where she knew she belonged.
In her thought, Raphael took her hand, startling her, and gently tugged her forwards towards the edge of the stone balcony.
The Church of Notre Dame was taller than every building in the area, allowing Maria to see streets illuminated by street lights, apartments and houses awake with open windows, and in the distance an ocean of orange and pink lights, lining the streets and morphing a strange map of Paris.
The cold wind's bite no longer affected Maria as she leaned over the stone railing to see as far out to Paris as she could. It looked beautiful.
But it failed to lift Maria's spirits.
"This is pretty, Raphael, but I think I want to go home," Maria said looking to him.
He smiled, placing the candle in an odd nook on the ground. "You don't see it, do you?" he asked.
Maria was growing impatient, sighing heavily through her nose. "No. I suppose I don't."
Despite her pique, Raphael smirked at the bite in her voice. "Maria, you are witnessing a city that never sleeps," he said, "It's always awake. It's always doing. You are standing in the soul of Paris." He walked behind her, straightening her shoulders to face the city square-on and spoke softly in her ear. "Close your eyes, and listen to her. Really listen. If you listen properly, you'll see what Parisians see."
Maria rolled her eyes, but obeyed, closing her eyes and attempting to listen. She could hear the breeze whispering in her ear, but nothing else. "I don't hear anything."
She heard Raphael chuckle. "I can hear the breath of Paris. The heartbeats of its people. There are people talking, yet to sleep. I can hear the bustling of late-night Fete de Paris." Raphael stood beside her, "Just take it in. Find it's beauty."
Maria felt silly and questioned whether Raphael felt even a trace of embarrassment for what he was saying. She was about to voice this when she suddenly heard it. She couldn't describe it, but it felt like something was alive. She could feel it on her skin and something travelling up the soles of her feet.
"On this street, there are bakers and millers, seamstresses and teachers. Children play in the courtyard, sing and scream at the top of her lungs." Raphael spoke with cheer.
Maria opened her eyes, the view she had looked at a moment earlier seemed different. Lights seemed to flicker, the streets seemed brighter, she could see life in an otherwise sleepy city. She understood what he meant by Paris never sleeps, upon a closer look it appeared to hum to life.
She smirked. "You see it." Raphael was looking at her.
Maria nodded, admitting it, "Yes. I think I can see it."
Raphael took in a long breath through the nose and exhaled an even longer sigh. Maria copied, taking in the scent of the air. It was oddly cold and a strange concoction of dew, water, cigarette smoke and something sweet, like flowers. Maria realised someone had allowed small flowers to sprout along the wall of the balcony, providing a flash of pink.
"There it is. I can feel the pulse of the people, I can feel the rhythm of the land."
"I understand the term 'Paris is alive.' Probably the closest thing to describing this." Maria leaned on the balcony and took in the entirety of Paris. Raphael spoke of the legend of Notre Dame and some smaller feats of history depending on what showed itself across the city. Maria wasn't paying attention to the words, more the energy in his voice, the vibrancy in his tone. He made large gestures with his arms and spoke louder, only to realise he was almost shouting. Maria found him nice to watch.
After a while, Raphael leaned on the balcony beside her. When she looked at his eyes she could see the Eiffel Tower's lights reflecting off them. Raphael had fallen silent, a sombre silence. Eventually closing his eyes to listen. He made a satisfied sigh. "True music to my ears."
Maria closed her eyes to listen but enjoyed the lights far better than the sound. "I like the lights," she said, her eyes tracing the pathways again, "The music is meh."
Raphael grimaced, "Meh?"
Maria smirked, deciding to tease him, "Yeah. Just meh."
"Each to their own," he replied, brushing her comment aside.
Maria shuffled closer to him, so their arms touched. "Does nothing get to you, Raphael?" she asked. Maria could read people, largely to tell when they were lying to her, but with Raphael, while calm and cool, never displayed signs of irreversible frustration. It was almost like he was confident in everything he did and everything he said. "Even as a joke, nothing riles you up aside from music and art and Paris. Why is that?"
Raphael maintained his sombre look, taking a moment to answer. "Just to be a philosophical cliché," he stated looking at her, "Life throws a lot of stuff at you to, as you say, 'rile you up.' For some people, they take it as is, others endure it and move on and some linger on that one thing for most of their life. Things use to get to me, believe it or not, but life handed me some difficult cards early on. If I let things annoy or anger me, and then linger on them for half my life, I found that I have nothing to show for it. Just a grudge and maybe some enemies." Raphael made another long sigh, "What I've gambled with, I can't really afford to let things annoy me. Otherwise, everything I've strived to achieve and everything I've managed to maintain in my life may start to unravel." Raphael was rubbing his fingertips together as if holding money. Maria noticed he didn't seem aware of it. "If I let things unravel, I genuinely don't know how I would react. I can't imagine it would be good though." His fingers stopped. He laughed, "Quite a lot of rambles for a simple question."
Raphael's 'rambles' surprised Maria. She noticed the tension in his face when he spoke of it, but watched it disappear from his features when he stopped talking about it as if it were never there. It made her wonder where his answer had come from. "That's a very genuine answer."
Raphael became bashful, looking down the side of the church. He rubbed his cheeks, but Maria could see he was blushing. She found it cute.
He lifted his gaze and looked at Maria. At first, Maria didn't take notice, but his eyes were soft, displaying kindness that made her heart throb. Her throat became dry as her eyes darted around, unsure where to look, but unable to keep his. Eventually, she had no choice as his hand touched her chin and lifted her head to meet his eyes. She suddenly couldn't breathe, paralysed by his gentle eyes. Maria's hair flapped around with the wind, but he still ran a hand by her eyes and through her hair, his body coming closer due to this gesture.
Suddenly, all the nervous feeling subsided a sudden wave of affection washing over her, leaving her body in warm tingles. Raphael's face approached hers, their noses grazing, and, for a split moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She unconsciously readied herself to kiss him, but his face continued past her lips, their cheeks touching as he whispered something in her ear.
"Do not react to what I'm about to say," his tone became chilling, "Someone followed us here."
Maria couldn't contain her panic but was unable to move as Raphael grabbed her hand and kept her head next to his. She attempted to speak, her words airy, "Who? Are you sure?"
"Do you smell the cigar smoke?" he whispered, his warm breath sent shivers down Maria's spine.
She gulped and made a small nod. "There's no smoking at the Church of Notre Dame. I smelt the same thing back at the theatre. I think I saw who followed us, he was waiting outside the theatre for us and followed us here."
Maria's teeth chattered, forcing her to grit them. "What do we do?"
Raphael pulled away from her, "Just follow my lead." He planted a kiss on her cheek and straightened, "You want to go home now?"
Maria was too stunned to verbalise an answer. She nodded quickly as she grabbed her violin and stood rigid. She took a struggled glance around the balcony in search of the figure, every shadow becoming a potential figure.
Raphael held out his arm, "Shall we? I'll escort you home."
Maria gulped as she took his arm and they started walking back through the attic. Raphael led the way with the candle, it's small glow enough to combat the hollow shadows. "I didn't know for certain," Raphael said quietly, "But when he followed us up here I knew this wouldn't be just a coincidence."
Raphael seemed calm, but that did little to soothe Maria's dread. "Just stay by me," Raphael instructed.
The doorway was only a small path away from them at the opposite side of the room. The smell was stronger inside as if the man who stalked them were smoking it. Maria searched the air for smoke clouds or a thin smog, but couldn't see one.
Maria felt something grab her waist and pull her from Raphael's arm. She yelped in surprise as a hand clamped around her mouth, muffling her words. She dropped her violin to attempt detaching the stranger who held her.
Raphael turned with such urgency the candle nearly blew out. The figure was still shrouded in darkness but appeared to tower over Maria's small size, their hands concealed by black gloves and their face hidden by a round shadow caused by their hat. "This doesn't need to get messy," they stated.
Maria felt something sharp dig into her side, glancing down she saw the gleam of a knife. Her whine was smothered.
Raphael held his other hand up, palm facing towards the man, "We don't want any trouble, sir," he said, taking daring small steps closer. "We don't have much, but tell us what you want from us and we'll give it to you. No one has to come to any harm unless you make it so."
"Shut up!"
Raphael obeyed, the entire time holding Maria's frightened eye contact.
"The ring," the man demanded, "I want your ring."
Raphael looked to the Golden Ring of Liberty still on his right hand. He nodded, "Yeah, sure. Alright, take it," He took a long step towards the pair, appearing to attempt twiddling the ring off his finger. The man's blade turned from Maria to Raphael, the pointed edge facing him. "If you behave Phantom, then your little friend won't be harmed."
"There's no need to pass on threats to a young woman, sir." Raphael continued to pull the ring off, but it seemed stuck. He struggled to twist it, loosen it even a bit.
"Not talking about this pretty one here," the man croaked.
Maria felt his hot breath on her neck and suddenly felt disgusted.
Raphael ceased his attempts to remove the ring, lifting his head to show a glare of hatred even Maria felt frightened by. "You have Anita?"
The man's chuckle was low and grim, "Is that what that little thing's name is? Stumbling about Paris on her own, wouldn't have been easy to pluck her off the street I imagine. She's in our custody, safe and sound, but one wrong move from you, Phantom, and safe will be the last thing you have to worry about."
The anger hardened in Raphael's eyes, the soft, kind eyes she had seen before replaced by an indescribable rage.
Raphael lashed out, raising the candle to the man's face and stabbing the fire against his cheek. In shock, Maria was released while the man wailed in surprised pain. He attempted to push Raphael away but was only met by more hot wax thrust against his cheek and eyes. Maria watched Raphael's hand glow, the Ring of Liberty's radiance almost blinding, as the candle was put out against the man's skin.
Without giving the stranger time to recover, Raphael struck the same side of his face with his glowing ringed finger, sending the shadow across the room and to the floor in stunned pain. Raphael still had a firm grip on the candelabra, his breathing laboured as he stalked the groaning man.
Maria didn't know what frightened her more; the man or Raphael in this moment.
He seemed so dark.
Raphael scooped up the blade which the man had dropped in the struggle, holding it almost curiously in his hands, before approaching the fallen stranger with the weapon in hand.
Maria's eyes widened as she watched him stand over the man and raise the knife. "Raphael! No!" she screeched.
Raphael drove the knife deep into a wooden beam beside him, his heavy breathing coming through his teeth. "If what you say is true," Raphael said slowly, "No God or saviour will be able to save you if you hurt Anita. I will gladly be damned to hell for what I would do you." Raphael levelled his breathing, barely. "Consider this a warning and a prayer that you're lying like I think you are, because next time there may not be a lady in the room."
Maria could hardly breathe as she watched Raphael strike the man again with the stand of the candelabra before quickly turning, and grabbing her hand as he fled.
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