Chapter Four
Shackled by Sins
Four weeks I have pushed Meg from my mind. Not altogether but enough that I could dismiss any guilt I felt. Gustave refused to come back to me after being with Raoul the day of Christine's funeral. That nearly broke my heart. It isn't anything Raoul has told him as much as I would like to think that is the cause. No, it is because to him I am still a stranger. While his mother lived and introduced him to me slowly he could accept my presence. As she lie dying she essentially gave Gustave to me. Now I can see how cruel it was of Christine to blurt out such important life changing information at such a devastating moment. How she expected Gustave to react I am sure is not what the reality is. That night he allowed me to take him with me but I feel it was more because he experienced a traumatic shock than he trusted or cared for me. I am not even sure he believes I am his father. A boy of his age does not know about such intimate details of his father and mother's life that he could readily accept that the man he thought of as his father suddenly wasn't his father and not only that but another man had been named as his father by his dying mother.
What a mess we have all made of things. Each of us conducted ourselves with our own interests as our guide while an innocent child had been a pawn placed in the center of our triangle. Meg I don't credit with as much blame as I do Raoul, Christine and myself. There is plenty of blame to be shared and once her mind clears reality will set in letting Meg see her own culpability. Pain of such unimagiable magnitude is what waits for her.
Dear God I wish I had been clairvoyant or omnipotent as I liked to believe. Now I know it had been my willingness to trample over anyone in my path that had made others bow to my will. All my life I wanted to be recognized as a man yet once I had it became evident I am not a very good or honorable person. It is so easy to blame my earlier years and the consequent years after the gypsy fair for all my anger, vindictiveness and murderous rage but it is not an acceptable reason or plausible excuse for everything I did. So many people had it worse than I did yet managed to hold onto their humanity. There are times when I think perhaps there is some mental instability I may have inherited from my parents. I can not confirm this as I do not know either of them or remember them.
It is to be hoped Christine's blood will dilute any negative traits I may have passed on to Gustave. Raoul hasn't exactly been a sterling example in recent years but he is making an effort to change. I can see he is still struggling with his addictions just as I have done in the past. Love and support will see him through. I just pray he does not seek that support from his family in France. If he tried to remove Gustave from me now I don't know what I might do. I can't lose him. He is my only living reminder of Christine.
Today I will be visiting Meg. It isn't something I want to do but duty dictates that I do so. Raoul to his credit did make one visit but has not gone back since. I didn't ask how he found her and he did not offer. She must have disturbed him because he looked quite pale when he returned back home. He had graciously let me stay with Gustave while he ran some errands. Raoul did not tell me he would be paying a visit to Meg. It had been Gustave who told me his father's itinerary.
As of yet Gustave still exhibits signs of not being totally at ease in my presence. He has seen me without my mask but I do not visit him without it firmly in place. It is better he sees me in a less frightening light than what he must remember is hidden from sight. The servants are becoming less fidgety around me. They seem less inclined to burn me at the stake the last few visits. I have even been wished good health upon leaving one afternoon.
Since I know where I will find Meg there is no reason to stop at the front desk which is a good thing as it is crouded in the hotel today. Several people pass me on the stairs and coming down the hallway. The hotel has an elevator and I imagined more people would use it to go from top to bottom and vice versa. Not me. I am used to climbing up stairs and ropes.
My steps have slowed as I draw nearer to my destination. It annoys me that such a small person can cause so much angst in me. The anger I understand but this fear of facing her fragility is very unsettling. One reason could be that I share most of the blame for Meg's current situation. No matter what justifications I try to use in my defense none clears me of blame entirely. Knowing myself all too well it is likely I will find some reason to forgive my responsibility for anything that contributed to Christine's death.
My knock is answered quickly by Marie. Her manner is more formal than before. Addressing ones employer is different from addressing someone on an equal footing. "Welcome Mister," she pauses expectantly.
Deciding on what to call myself had given me a few sleepless nights. A walk through the cemetery only made me maudlin about missing Christine. No name jumped out at me from the many headstones. No one will care what I call myself so I chose Garnier. Did the famous architect not design and build my last home? In this way I will honor his great gift to me even if it had not been intended as such. Mr. Erik Garnier shall now be who I am. Mister Y will fade away once all his interests in Coney Island have been sold off.
"Garnier, Erik Garnier," I inform her with a slight bow. My gentlemanly behavior is coming along better than I had hoped. Tipping my hat toward ladies, giving a bow toward them out of respect is new for me as is opening a door if one should be coming or going just as I come to a door. Next thing I know I'll be serving in a soup kitchen downtown.
"Mr. Garnier I am so glad you have come. Meg has been getting out of bed but still will not respond to me verbally. I know she hears me and understands me as she responds to my commands when I dress and undress her. Such a sad looking young woman. Such a shame she is…well not quite right."
"Indeed," is all I can manage. Total forgiveness has not come just yet and perhaps it never will.
"Would you like to see her? I can bring her out and set her up in a chair so you can have a nice long visit. I can busy myself with some errands," Marie offers expectantly.
Being alone with Meg is the last thing I want. I nearly shouted an emphatic 'No!' when Marie made her offer. I'd rather not be in the same room with someone I want to throttle yet can't lift a finger toward them because to do so would be monstrous.
"Of course you must go. It was remiss of me not to arrange for your days off. Starting this week Tuesdays and Saturdays will be your own to do with as you please. If you have errands during the week that need tending just send me a message and I will make other arrangements."
I'd like to order her to stay with Meg all the time but that would be unreasonable. Marie is too much of a Godsend to jeopardize causing her an upset. Not many women would be willing to sit with someone considered not right in the head. Disorders such as Meg's can cause discomfort in others. I know from my own unstable psyche that not much is understood about the workings of the mind. I can blame my sorry life for all my transgressions but deep inside I know there is a part of me that isn't normal. I can control it most of the time and more so in the last few years but who knows what or who will set me off the next time? I know what darkness haunts my dreams but I can only imagine what lurks in Meg's.
Opening the room to darkness I hear Marie say just before she exits, "Meg seems calmer if the lights are out. Perhaps you might persuade her to at least have a candle in her room. It is so hard to take proper care of her without being able to see by anything more than the light coming in the opened door."
It isn't necessary for me to answer and I don't know what to say in any case. My presence may drive Meg further into her nightmare rather than coax her to find her way back. So much of my life I lived in darkness and refuse to continue to do so or let Meg keep traveling down that path. I'll light the beside lamp and deal with the consequences whatever they may be. Considering that Meg hasn't left her bed for longer than a few minutes at a time I don't think it is wise to remove Meg at present. I inform Marie of my decision. She must agree with me as she offers no protest when I gve her permission to leave me alone with our charge.
Cautiously I strike the match as I explain, "Meg, it is Erik. I am here for a visit. We cannot have a proper conversation in the dark so I am lighting the bedside lamp. There is nothing to be afraid of."
Nothing comes from the lump on the bed. For all I know it could be pillows stuffed underneath the covers. The light is blinding at first but soon my eyes adjust. When they do I am unable to keep the shock I feel from escaping in a gasp. My God! If I had not known what a beauty Meg was before I can see that nothing in her appearance now speaks of anything other than frail emaciated skin and jutting bones. Her eyes are open but show no life at all.
The pillow has stray hairs which I surmise have fallen from Meg's head. Malnutrition is the culprit would be my guess. Not because Marie doesn't attempt to feed her but because Meg refuses to eat out of guilt. Starving herself in her mind seems a just punishment for taking her dear sister's life. Once again I want to wrap my hands around Madame's neck. Perhaps if she had stayed Meg might have listened to her after the first days of grieving had passed.
On the nightstand is a bowl of soup long gone cold but still edible and filled with much needed nourishment. From now on I will have a set schedule when I come to visit and on those days there will be a standing order for a tray to be sent up with an array of foods that will tempt any appetite.
Taking the bowl I sit down on the side of the bed softly speaking as I do, "Meg. I am going to put a spoon to your mouth and you will drink every drop of the soup. I know you are in there and can hear me. Take it from one who knows, the world you are in is not one you should stay in for long. Reality may not be exactly what we wish it to be but it is far better than the darkness we tend to keep buried in our minds. Everyone has that dark place. Most are strong enough to never go into that place while others glory in what they find there. For a time I did. Christine began the process of bringing me out of my darkness. You know she would not want you to stay in that place for long Meg. Healing is one thing. Giving in to death is another."
Lifting the spoon to her mouth there are barely a few droplets of liquid on the spoon. At this rate it will take hours to finish the bowl but I can't risk choking her if she does not swallow. After only a few spoonfuls I realized this would not work. Meg needed to be propped up so that the liquid at least made it into her mouth and didn't dribble down the side onto the bed.
In order to gain the results I wanted I would have to prop Meg against my chest so that I could use one hand to massage her throat making sure that she swallowed. I know this method works on animals and pray that it works on humans also. I can't ever recall being this close to Meg as I lean her up then wedge my shoulder behind her. My hip comes to rest intimately close to hers in a disconcerting manner. As much as I used to crave closeness with others once I got it my inclination for contact lessoned as being in close proximity to others is disconcerting to me. Usually I keep an invisible parameter around me that those who know me accepted and honored. I let Christine and Gustave inside that space with disastrous results. What would I do to Meg once she entered that forbidden zone? For now I'd have to place all my anger and resentment in storage until Meg could fend for herself. Later there would be plenty of time for recriminations and accusations.
Many times at the opera house I came in contact with a skeleton. At the moment that is what Meg feels like, a skeleton. She is hardly any weight at all leaning back against me. Feelings of a softer nature are unwelcome inside of me but they cannot be kept at bay. Sympathy mixed with regret and so many other emotions allow me to treat Meg with the tenderness that is needed at this time. Slowly I begin to place spoonful after spoonful to her lips speaking of nonsense in a soft reassuring tone just as I used to do for Christine when she experience a fright or nightmare during the night. It is only now coming to me that Meg would have heard me on those occasions as her cot and Christine's were side by side in the dormitory. I wonder why she never said anything to anyone about knowing who visited Christine. Perhaps once she is well Meg will tell me herself.
To my amazement Meg downed every bit of the soup. Her eyes remained fixed and not one word passed her lips the whole time. Leaving her as comfortable as I could make her I slipped out of the room. Needing to be able to hear if she should make a sound I left the door ajar. I extinguished the lamp before leaving her room. Meg had not shown any uneasiness about having the lamp on so maybe that will continue once Marie takes up her vigil once again.
When Marie returned I wasted no time informing her of the changes that would take place. I wanted nothing more than to remove myself from this situation as fast as I could. Meg reminded me of things I would rather forget. I'd see her through this then cut all ties with her. Remaining calm around her may not be something I can continue indefinitely. Better not test my ability to stave off darker thoughts and actions. Get her health back then work on her mental stability. Perhaps the two go hand in hand. We shall see. What I know is that Meg and I are like two shakled prisoners. We share the same fate to a certain extent just as our sins bind us even more.
A/N: Shameless begging for reviews. I need the boost to my morale.