29th April, 1838, Sunday

Mother was restlessly walking up and down in the salon, and ordered Boy to dress up in Sunday clothes. Boy never understood why he had to dress up nicely when only Mother went somewhere, where he was never taken, but he had his job as well. He had to read a part of the Bible by the time Mother had arrived home and he had to tell her what it was about. Mother then handed him his lunch and told him to go away and it was Sunday, always. But now when Boy arrived down to the hall, Mother walked to him and announced

- We are leaving soon. If you need to do your business, do it now, as I am not coming back or stopping anywhere after we left.

- What does it mean we are leaving? – Boy asked with surprise.

- We are not going to be home for a while.

- We go further than the garden?

- Yes.

- Including Boy? He is allowed to go out to the streets?

- Yes, but you have to do exactly what I say, because if you misbehave I will never take you anywhere again.

- I will do what you say, Mother. – Boy's eyes lit up, as he was legally allowed to go somewhere with Mother. It was the happiest day of his life so far! Mother takes him outside at daylight! Does it mean she likes him?

- Do you promise? – Mother looked at him in the eye. – Please understand it is dangerous what we do now. But we have to do it.

- Dangerous?

- Yes, if you misbehave or remove the mask, it is dangerous to me and you as well. You have seen it in the mirror what is behind the mask. – Mother pointed at him.

She wouldn't have needed to remind him. He did not even dare to remove the mask for bedtime nowadays and he bathed with it since he accidentally saw his reflection in the mirror when he removed the mask a few months earlier. He needed a few seconds to realize it was his own face but when the horrid figure in front of him moved just like he did… he finally understood why he had to wear a mask. He was frightened by his own face, terribly… and now that Mother warned him it was dangerous to go around without a mask, his eyes filled up with tears of insecurity and sadness. Of course, Boy wasn't old enough yet to word these feelings, he simply whimpered he was scared.

- Don't be afraid. – Mother was unusually kind and encouraging. – God shall protect us. – She sent a kind smile towards Boy, which was utterly unusual, she would mostly only smile at Bisous, or at the memory of "Maurice, dear". He did not remember Mother smiling at him on purpose.

He had much more urge to go like that, the small amount of fear he had felt before about the mask had disappeared. If God and Mother will take care nothing bad happens, he can be sure everything will be all right. As Mother said good bye to Bisous and asked him to follow her, is heart bet rapidly from happiness and he was hardly able to breathe out of excitement.

They were walking on the dirt road which led to the main street of the village, he jumped around Mother in excitement, and she was so beautiful in rays of sunlight. She was much more beautiful in her nice Sunday dress and warm smile, she looked less pale than at home, her cheeks had a rosy tint, and her cherry lips showed a delighted smile for the first time in his life. He felt he was looking nice as well, he had a full suit, cravat, waistcoat and a pair of shoes he was never allowed to wear before. As he felt, save for the mask, he looked like any other young children going to Mass.

Looking around, he was now able to see more houses, as they were reaching towards the center of the village. A few people were walking around them, heading to the opposite direction, and they greeted Mother, but did not notice him, as Mother made him hide behind her skirt, not to notice the masked child. He understood he had to hide and did not fuss about it, but he got more and more curious about the buildings that surrounded them. He was turning his head around curiously and in awe. He pointed at one of the bigger buildings, and asked:

- What is that?

- A tavern.

- And what's that for?

- It is not a good building. It is for people to do sinful things like drinking and fighting. They drink the "holy water" you accidentally had the other day.

Boy made a face beneath the mask, remembering back the odd taste of the liquid, and feeling disgusted he did not feel like forcing on the subject any longer, losing interest about the building, but he noticed yet another nearby.

- And that one? – He asked.

- That is the school.

- What is school? – He went on.

- It is the place where children go to study.

- Why don't I have to go there then?

- Because… because you don't have to any more. You can read and write already… well writing isn't your forte yet and I expect you to get better soon… but… you are already… clever enough.

Mother had much more patience to explain things to him than before, yet Boy sensed subconsciously that school wasn't unavailable to him because he was already too smart, but because of the mask and danger… and he was even surer he was taken to the village when the least people were around because of the mask. He knew people were already going home from the place they were heading to, and he did not understand what they had to do there when no one else was around. Will his all life be about hiding from people?

Arriving to the biggest building he had ever seen, Boy was amazed of the size and beauty of the house they stood in front of, and he was speechless examining all the decoration of the stone put on the building. How did they do that? What are these at all?

- Mother! Mother!

- Don't be so loud. What happened? Come we must go inside.

- Inside is so beautiful too? – Boy inquired with excitement, putting his foot up to the upper step of the stairs to reach his shoelace.

- What are you doing? – Mother asked with surprise and a bit of annoyance.

- Removing shoes.

- What has gotten into your mind? – She shook her head. – You must not remove your shoes before entering church.

- Is this church? – Boy stood up, examining the building more.

- Yes it is. It is God's house.

- And we are visitors? – Boy asked.

- Yes, we are visiting church.

- Then God is a kinder host than you. – Boy pointed at Mother, who sent a shocked little glance towards him.

- You are talking nonsense again.

- No, because God does not want you to remove your shoes before entering his house, while you do. Even Uncle has to remove his. I know because once I put a toad in his shoes while he was visiting.

- I always knew it was you. – Mother sighed. – But now stop talking nonsense as usual. You promised me you will be a good boy, didn't you?

He nodded, walking next to Mother towards the door. He tried his best to stay quiet, but when they entered and he noticed the fresco on the ceiling, he did not know what to think of it right away, and of course it resulted in the usual act of children meeting a new thing: he asked. Loudly.

- Mother how did that picture go up there?

- Hush. – Mother silenced him, as church was a place where one could hear his own voice more times louder than at home. Boy right away started to think how that can be.

- What happened to my voice? It is louder. If I yell something what happens?

- It is impolite to yell in church. – Mother explained softly. – Father is coming to see us, please be polite and say hello as I taught you.

Boy noticed a tall man heading towards them. He wore all black, and it looked like he was wearing a dress like women, which made Boy a bit of confused if he should address him "Monsieur' or 'Madame', but after some brief thinking, he came to the decision he will use 'Monsieur", as the figure looked more like a man in general.

- Bonjour Monsieur! – He cheered, partly because he wished to show he was a polite boy as Mother asked him to be, and partly because he wanted to try out what happens to his voice if he speaks loudly. He was amazed it filled out the whole room, getting powerful and ringing in the air by full force.

- Forgive him, Father. – Mother said softly.

- I have nothing to forgive him for. – The man replied, turning to Mother with a serious expression. – He can't do anything better, can he?

The tall man leaned closer to him and with a kind intonation, he started speaking to him.

- Little Bastien, if you meet me, you ought to say hello to me as "Good morning, Father".

- Are you boy's father? – He rolled his eyes in confusion.

- How dare you? – Geneviéve gasped in shock, but the priest waved towards her.

- In a way, I am the father of everyone in the village, but I am not your Papa, Bastien. He passed away when you were just a baby.

- Who is Bastien? – Boy rolled his eyes yet again.

- You, my boy. – The priest looked at him in surprise. – Did you not know?

- No. – Boy shook his masked little head. – Mother never called me that.

- She would better start to call you by your name, then. – The deep voice sounded strictly now, with a hint of accusation. – And I think she shall explain in a confession why did she not take you here earlier and why didn't she use your proper name.

Looking behind his back, boy noticed Mother silently weeping into her handkerchief and was only able to whisper softly.

- Forgive me, Father.

- We will need to talk. Soon. – The priest sighed, but turned back to Bastien. – Do you know why we are here, Bastien?

- Mother said she will show me how to be a good boy.

- Right answer. And to get closer to God.

- I can see how this building is huge. – Boy nodded. – God sure can see me better from here than at home, our house is smaller.

- Oh, God can see you everywhere. – He laughed out. – Never forget you are seen by God and he knows what you do. This is why you have to behave well, not to make God sad.

- And how can I make God happy?

- This is what I will tell you every Sunday. Mother and you will come here after Mass every Sunday and we will talk about God together.

- Sounds good enough. – Bastien shrugged, but to be honest, other things interested him much more. For example the question how big and long of a paintbrush the person should have owned who painted the picture up there on the ceiling, and how did his voice get so powerful… and that… what are those metal pipes on the wall at the other end of the room? They are huge and they are full of holes. What a strange thing, if the pipes have holes, what is the use of them?

- Are you looking at the organ, Bastien?

- What is an organ? – He asked with growing interest, hoping the Kind Father will at least explain him everything.

- It is a musical instrument which help us to admire God.

- Musical… music…! – Bastien gasped in excitement and he could literally not help himself, he stomped his feet against the ground and did small jumps in a sudden fit of eager.

- Do you happen to like music?

- Yes… yes… - Bastien nodded impatiently.

He was partly afraid he will be punished because he could not stay calm, and asked too much things, but the priest seemed to be happy he was so enchanted by the thought of the organ and going to church. And something unbelievable happened…

He was taken to the organ. The priest showed him the instrument, which was much more interesting than the piano at home. He could not wait to know it better, to explore it, and to his biggest surprise the kind Father allowed him to sit at the keyboard. He wasn't yet tall enough to be able to reach the pedals with his feet, so he kept jumping on and off of the organ bench. He did not know how much time flew like this, but he was allowed to do whatever he wanted, and for the first time in his life, he was seen by someone else other than Mother, and treated kindly… and he wasn't punished for being around other people… and he was allowed to play music…

- Your son is gifted, Geneviéve! He has such a talent in music, God sure gave him a gift.

Bastien heard a sentence when he had to rest for a few seconds when the mask was already a wet mess against his small deformed face. He was panting a bit, and hearing this applause behind his back only encouraged him even more.

- I have to admit music is something he can do well. – Mother sighed softly. – But what is the use of it? I mean God gave him a gift, but took the most important thing away from him. He has no use of any talent as long as he looks …

- What I hear? – The Priest thundered. – Geneviéve, do you dare to question God's decision and say blasphemous things in his house? You have to learn a lesson! God has a plan with every soul. He has a plan with Bastien as well. And we have to help him the best we can, to achieve God's will.

- How? – The woman asked. – I thought it was enough if you, Father, teach him to the Bible and morals… I already taught him to write and read and he can count well. He multiplies four digit numbers.

- By the age of six? – The priest gasped.

- Yes, I don't know how he can do it.

- It is against God's will to hide such a clever mind.

- And what shall I do?

- Give him knowledge. Teach him. Give him books to read.

- About what?

- Everything. – The priest nodded knowingly. – As I know he can't be schooled… the original way… he can't grow up like this! He has to learn.

- I want to learn. – The boy admitted, hoping Mother won't slap him later because he talked while grown up people were conversing.

- It is your only chance. – The priest nodded sadly.

What came after this, was partly good and partly boring for the boy. The Father explained him the basics of the religion and the ceremonious hand gestures. He did not like this part too much, as it reminded him of the scene when Mother trained Bisous to stand on two paws to beg for a treat, or to roll on the carpet. When this part finally ended, the Priest asked him if he had any questions about the things they had learned that day.

- How can someone draw a picture on the ceiling? – He asked the only question he could think of the whole time.

- Oh! – Surprisingly the priest wasn't angry because he asked something out of context, rather he laughed out shortly. – I see you are interested in arts of any forms?

- Yes, and nice buildings like this one.

- There are nicer buildings than this one. – The priest slipped a huge book in front of the boy, and smiled. – Here is a book of beautiful artworks and architecture.

- What is architecture?

- It is the art of creating beautiful buildings. Take this book home with you, child, and read it. When you come back next Sunday, we will talk about God again… and you can ask me anything you want to talk about in this book you don't understand.

Boy was so happy, he nearly cried, and Mother seemed to be happier than usual. She warned him not to drop the book as they were walking home, and told Bastien he needed to take great care of the book. Not to spill or write anything on any of the pages.

- You received a huge chance from the Father, don't ruin it.

- I want to know everything possible. – The boy's eyes lit up in happiness.

- I know how you feel. – She nodded. – But you need to pay attention to God's words as well. Not only architecture and art.

- I try my best.

- I think I know a way you can achieve it. I am going to teach you psalms to sing and play. You know, organs are for those. Psalm is what you sing at church. They are like prayers.

- Prayers in music are much better. – He stated.

- We ought to save your soul. – Mother sighed as she looked at the excited boy, who could not wait to finally read and look at the book he got.

It was half past eleven, when Geneviéve opened the door of that normally abandoned room of the house, noticing the boy laying on the top of the bed on his stomach, still dressed, reading the book in total darkness.

- Bastien… - It was the first time she said that name out loud

The boy, not knowing at first it was his name being called, not being used to having a name, did not look up, but suddenly he heard the sweetest voice ever saying:

- Please put away that book. It is enough for today.

He obeyed, and while that, Mother said such a kind thing he never heard before….

- Don't read in the dark. It damages your eyes.

Several years later, in an abandoned dark room at the fifth cellar of the Paris Opera House, a bony finger caressed the spine of the album of great architectural artwork, and a dreamy sigh escaped those malformed lips. This was the first book he bought for himself when he was finally in the financial stability to be able to buy any, and though the book did not exactly look like the one he borrowed from Father, the memories he linked to the book were the same, and they were so sweet to recall.

It happened so rarely he could find sweet memories in his earlier life.