The Journey
Part 2
by

J. M. McMahon

Note: In the time period between The Return of the Phantom and The Season of the Witch a piece of the story was left untold. This mere setback in the life of the Phantom, and that of his family, proved that living as Raoul de Chagny had unexpected consequences.

* * *

Guarding against overreaction and keeping his outward poise intact, Erik allowed the unsettling impact of the young man’s stunning words to leave him momentarily stunned. Decorum forbade the immediate asking of a dozen pertinent questions. The young man’s unheralded claim to be Raoul’s son – placed so simply and so solemnly before him on this doorstep – demanded careful further exploration. But what could be resolved out here in the open? They were, after all, still standing as two gentlemen at the chateau’s front entrance.

Erik studied the visitor who waited politely for a reply to his startling declaration. The fellow looked anxious and sincere enough.

A nauseating wave of loathsome images dragged Erik’s mind back into the past. The charred flesh of Raoul de Chagny was an indelible picture forever seared into his brain. His handsome rival had died most hideously, the proud de Chagny’s existence diminished to that of mere 'resident ghost'. Unfortunately, more than one man died that fateful night. Erik could readily bear witness to the fact for he was the second victim. Nearly incomprehensible circumstances had placed him in the role of a counterfeit Raoul. The absurdity of the charade, the danger it presented to his own fragmented personality, not to mention the jeopardy surrounding the lives of those intimately involved with the ploy, blared like a siren of alarm inside his head.

Raoul’s-substitute mentally bemoaned the plight brought on by this unexpected visit. Oh, what sad tragedy this repetitious annihilation of the true Raoul brings down upon all our heads. This house hides a secret, dear boy, a mystery it would hold into eternal obscurity if it could! A half dozen kindred souls participate in the crime! All of them put at risk in their willingness to profess a lie to protect my life and soul…to the singular purpose of letting me have a future with Christine. Look how innocently you stand there, in all your honesty and hope, declaring that a title encrusted in lies is your birthright!

All these thoughts occurred in the span of a moment’s hesitation. Stepping backward, Erik beckoned the young man into the mansion. A grand home that for the present seemed to be claimed as the rightful heritage of this young, Raoul Chagny Delacourt. As they traversed the grand foyer, Erik proceeded cautiously, allowing his guest to follow him to one of the parlors. Seeing the curious expression in the young man's eyes, Erik deliberately slowed his pace, allowing the new arrival time to absorb something of the interior luxuries that the title 'Count' might well bestow. There, in those eager eyes, Erik recognized the former Raoul. There was no mistaking the lineage.

As they approached a seating area, Erik turned and with a cautious sweep of his hand offered his guest the comfort of a wing chair. Raoul Delacourt’s stood, unable to move, his inquisitive mind mesmerized by the elaborate gilt-edged furnishings before him. Recalling the exactitude he himself once used to peruse this unfamiliar dwelling that eventually became his home, Erik allowed the youthful Raoul the pleasure of enjoying a visual journey around the handsome room.

He prompted Delacourt out of his cursory inventory with a question. “Shall I call for refreshments? Tea? Perhaps something stronger?” Erik rather pointedly directed the guest to a chair and rather reluctantly placed himself on a divan just opposite.

After carefully ingesting this verbal communication, the new arrival replied, “Tea, Monsieur. If you please.”

“I’ll ring for some.” Off a side table Erik picked up a delicate bell in the shape of stork and softly rang the clapper. While they waited Erik sorted through a myriad resounding thoughts and feelings. The consequences that might result from their ensuing conversation could bring together a father and a son, or a fool and his enemy. Whatever actions Erik took from this point forward depended upon what degree of truth compelled this young man on this quest. If he honestly believed himself Raoul’s heir disappointment or fulfillment hung in the balance. Despair within a tender heart might turn a young hopeful bitter. If however, a young imposter was exposed, one who falsely pursued greed, isolation and death were called for. Should Erik allow his secretive associations to decide the outcome? How would his confederates recommend testing the young man’s desperate motives?

For fraud Delacourt must be, because only Raoul’s immediate family knew Raoul was unable to father children. He cannot be Raoul’s son, reasoned Erik. Raoul produced no seeds. If he’s not a true de Chagny, then who is he? Since he favors them, could he be Philippe’s child?

Erik could not prevent an ocean of memory from resounding inside him. He understood the definition of the word desperation. His own lonely tormented childhood, punctuated by periods of self-destruction and exhaustion, had forged a recluse capable of monstrous acts. His mind had unraveled more than once. Only Christine held the key that reached into the center of his emotions, allowing him a degree of sanity. He called his scattered thoughts into order and silently gathered his composure. Would this young man die before the clock struck midnight? Or live to see the dawn? How should they test this upstart to prove him either guilty charlatan or earnest prodigal son?

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