The Phantom's Compass

A/N: Ok, first off, this whole thing is just silly. Absolute sillyness. TOTALLY pointless too! Here's how this all started.

Me: You know, Madame Giry says that Phantom's never left the opera. How then, does he know how to get to the grave-yard?
Her: lol I dunno. Maybe he had a map.
Me: Well where'd he get the map from? He never leaves!
Her: I dunno! Maybe he left to get one just after she said that?
Me: But how would he know where to get one if he needs a map to find anything?
Her: maybe he had a compass?
Me: well where'd he get that?!
Her: I dunno! Maybe its Jack's!
Me: Oh! That solves both our problems. He went out through his canals and into the river and then through the mediterranian and stole it from Jack. Then he sees this chest and opens it, and its full of maps and he says "OO! MAPS!" and puts it in his little gondola too.
Her: Exactly! See, what'd I tell you.

.....

So here we are with this crackpot story that came from a silly instant message convo.

I don't want any complaints saying he's taking way too short a time to get throught the places, because I don't really care with this one. Its MEANT to be silly. Total sillyness.

Enjoi.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He squinted as he came out into the bright daylight, far different from the dull grey light within the sewers he was so accustomed to. Even though it was barely 6:00 in the morning, the water was far less calm here, as people bustled by in a rush on their gondolas or took water to wash things with. He cringed as a plump woman with bright red hair passed by, reminding him of that horrible over-done diva; Carlotta. He would someday find a way to deal with her, but for now, he had to find a way to be with Christine.

As he pushed his boat along, he saw new sides of the world he lived in, ones he was not used to seeing anymore. He saw the poor houses, grimy children dressed in rags hiding away in alleys, everything. The markets interested him most however. Hundreds of people, all being much too loud for comfort, screaming about how their product is better than so-and-so’s or arguing a price for their wares. He thought to himself that he might make an opera bout them someday, but for now, Christine.

As the day rolled on, he found himself becoming rather tired, and called out to one of the boys in an alleyway. “You there boy, would you like to earn some money today? I will give you a job for the rest of the day as well as tomorrow if you wish, but it is hard work and you need to work fast.” They dirty boy ran over to the edge of the canal excitedly, nodding his head up and down.

“Good. Come down here then, I need you to push the boat for me. I’ve been doing it all morning and now I’m about to fall asleep.” The boy nodded, then carefully stepped into the boat as to not fall into the water, even though it might have done him some good. Erik sat down, handing the push pole over to the boy. He turned out to be strong despite his small, frail looking body, and they moved quickly.

Once Erik felt that the boy was doing good enough, he settled into the boat’s less than comfortable seats, leaning back against the head of the boat. He watched the people in the streets as they went by, noticing that as they got further and further away from his home, the buildings became less and less grand; the streets became dirtier, the clothes shabbier, the people dirtier. The quality of living seemed to be going down as he left the capital.

As the day rolled on towards noon, he slowly made his way out of France and into Germany. Erik had the boy stop at a market by the canal so he could buy some bread and cheese. After buying enough for the two of them, he let the boy continue pushing the boat forward slower for a little bit while they ate.

“Boy,” the Phantom said, “I do not yet know your name, and you do not know mine. I am Erik, you need not know my surname. Who are you?” he continued in his lyrical voice. The boy looked up at him sadly, then looked down into the boat, then at the water. He stopped pushing the boat, and touched a finger into the water, then wrote out “John” onto the dry inside of the boat with it.

Erik looked down at the name written in water on the boat, then back to the boy who was again pushing the gondola along. “John… are you… can you speak?” The boy looked down and shook his head no slowly. “Oh…” the Phantom said quietly, “I’m sorry.” John shrugged his shoulders and kept going.

The two were silent for another hour or so, before Erik could no longer tolerate the quiet and began singing quietly to himself. He practiced a song he had been working on for Don Juan, mesmerizing the young boy. Erik noticed that he had started to gather a small following on the street beside the canal, and began to sing louder so that he was easily heard. He continued singing the lines of “The Point of No Return,” and when it was finished, much applause followed, along with several coins being flipped into the boat. He smiled and thanked the crowd, allowing it to dismantle. He carefully scooped the coins into one pile and sat them in the middle of the boat. He would later exchange them for his own country’s currency, but there was not much he could do while sitting on the gondola.

He looked up at the young boy who had been so amazed at his singing. A broad smile played across his face, then he looked back at the canal and around at the streets. It occurred to Erik that he may have been keeping the boy entertained as well, and slowly began singing again, only this time much quieter, so as only he and his companion could hear it. This went on for another hour or so, before the Phantom became too tired and needed a break for a while.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, there's more to come. This is all going to be posted in tiny little chapters, as I have books to write. Those pay more than this does. I have prioritys.....