Three weeks passed after our first argument over Erik wanting to come with me to church. I slowly started to overcome my silly fear about Erik making the house disappear, so the next week I went to Mass, just like always. Father Mansart agreed as well that I should not take such a weak threatening seriously. Erik, of course, did not like the fact that he has no power over my actions, and he threw several mild or more serious tantrums, but I did not let a four year old win the battle. These always resulted in a few slaps, our Erik being grounded.
One day, after dinner Erik was surprisingly quiet, and he did not go to his room as usual, but was seeking my presence. He did not say a word, but he was following me just the way Sasha always followed him. Pretty soon, his behavior started to bother me so I growled at him.
- What on Earth do you want, Erik, go to your room and leave me be.
- I don't know. - Erik paused. - I am... sleepy.
- Sleepy? - I repeated the sentence with such a disbelief as Erik has just stated that he didn't believe in God himself. Erik was never sleepy, as I remembered, we literally fought every night when it came to bedtime, and after a while, I just let him stay up as much as he wanted, but locked him in his room. Looking at the clock on the mantelpiece, it was only half past seven. I ordered Erik in his room at 8 o clock every night, and he stayed up reading his books even when I went to sleep at 10 o clock. I couldn't believe my ears.
- Do you want to go to bed? - I took a few steps closer to him, examining his eyes, trying to see the trick behind his words.
- I don't know. - he sighed and sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. - I'm cold. - as I was examining him a bit more, I could see he was trembling. I haven't seen him like this before in those 4 years of his life. I went close to the armchair he was sitting in, and after a bit of hesitation I leaned closer to the child. I only touched him when I found it necessary, and then I felt I needed to put my hand on his forehead. He was really hot, compared to his usual coldness.
- You are hot. I think you have fever. It would be better if you went to bed. - I paused a bit and saw his pleading eyes resting on me. - I will be in your room in five minutes to wish you good night. - I added, a bit of kinder than I usually spoke to him. He sensed my tone changing a bit and he now obeyed.
When I went to his room with a candle in my hand, I saw Erik laying in bed. He removed the mask for bedtime and I did not really want to look at him, but something caught my eye. He was extraordinary pale, but his cheeks had a reddish color, and there was sweat all over his face and forehead. I have never seen him this sick in his life. Of course, like any child, Erik had a cold as well from time to time, he was coughing, he had headache, sometimes some indigestion, but these sicknesses did not move my heart. Just a sick kid, he will feel better eventually. This time, however he seemed to be seriously ill. A thought ran across my mind: what if he passes away?
I could not leave the side of his bed that night, no matter how I wanted to. My guilt did not let me escape and hide in my own bedroom. I was thinking about our relationship with my son, and all the strict and cruel words I have told him in his life. How I wished him dead at the very moment of his birth! How I was repulsed by his skull face! I could not even bear myself to look at his face even now, when he was sleeping all sick and weak, I rather read the Bible and worked on my embroidery works.
- Mama! - I heard his beautiful, but now extremely soft and weak voice beside me a little bit before dawn.
- Yes, Erik? - I asked, nearly crying, not looking at him at all.
- Mama, please... will I die? - he asked with sadness, but surprisingly, there was a hint of hopeful tone in his soft whisper.
- No, of course not, Erik. - I tapped his hand quickly to calm him. - You are just ill now, you need to rest and you will feel better. - for some strange reason, I rather wanted to comfort myself with this than Erik. I wanted to be sure Erik survives. Despite of how I wanted to see him dead in these past years, now the thought of his death and missing him really alarmed me. I did not want to see him dead. I did not want to erase his memory from my mind... I wanted him to be here with me, as, I don't know what was in my heart and soul, but in a twisted way, I needed Erik.
-Mama, if I die... - he paused a little bit and closed his eyes, I was hoping that he fell asleep, but after a few seconds he finally grabbed my wrist. I did not move my hand away from him, I knew that the child needs my support. I wasn't the best mother at all, but not even I had the cruelty of leaving this uneasy, worried and maybe dying child to his cold fears at night. - Mama, if I die... do you know... what I regret?
- What do you regret, Erik?
- I regret not seeing the church. And... the organ.
Oh, how I loathed father Mansart at that very moment. He should not have talked about the choir, the church and the organ to Erik. He knew well that I am not safe to bring Erik among people. Why did he have to put the bug in Erik's ears if he knew well that the boy can never go past the garden's gate? This child wants to see that damned organ for weeks. And now, he is laying here, very ill, and technically worded his last wish: seeing the church.
I did not say another word, I was just biting my lips, cracking my fingers... Erik seemed to be asleep again. And then... I finally understood it. Maybe Erik needs to go to see the church because that's how God blesses him, finally? Maybe that's the way God makes his soul pure? If he dies, what a better place to die in, than a church? And maybe if he goes there, he doesn't even die? What if it's God's way to test my will if I want to save him from the Devil or not? To test my strength? I finally knew what to do. I ran to my bedroom and puton my warmest and finest clothes. It was very cold outside, it was snowing and the wind blew. After I was done with dressing for our walk, I hurried back to Erik's room and shook him.
- Erik... wake up, Erik, we will go to see the church just what you wanted.
- Are we? - he smiled a bit and without any dispute he let me help him out of the bed, putting his clothes on, taking his hand and walk out of the house. Sasha, as always, followed us. I put Erik's warmest cape on him, because I was afraid he will get even sicker. He was never out of the gate of my house and in winter, I rather did not let him outside for long. He was walking next to me like a good boy, staring at the black silhouette of the buildings at night.
- Why did we come at night? - he asked. - The choir isn't here yet.
- But yes, it is. I smiled at him, and lead him by the hand.
- What choir? They are asleep, they are young boys, Father Mansart said.
- Ssssh! Don't speak, you will breathe cold air in your lungs and catch a cold even more. Father Mansart was talking about the small angel boys that come here at night. They sing you a lullaby, Erik.
He seemed to think things through, but finally accepted my reasoning, and followed me without any more doubt. We turned to the church's stone pavement, and Erik was looking at the building with awe. The church looked beautiful in this snowy quiet night, it was like it just popped out of a storybook.
We entered the church and sat down in the last row. Erik pierced his eyes at the outlines of the organ, but he stayed on his place. I am not sure if it was God's effect on him, or he was just tired, but I saw him eventually leaning his head against the pew. I was praying to God that Erik will feel better and find the correct path to follow. I don't know how much time passed like this, biut I lifted my head to Erik's voice:
You were right, Mama... I heard them. It is the most beautiful music I have ever heard. - he smiled.
I sighed with relief, thanked God in my mind, and we slowly walked home.