~Phantom~
Love Never Dies
"Beneath A Moonless Sky"
Christine:"Change"
Change is good. It is a part of life in a world of continous reoccurrences; yet I dread it. Even as a child, I hadn't embraced change.
After my mother's death, my father had moved us from Sweden to Paris. I had hated him then, later I would come to understand. He could not remain in a country that only served to remind him of a love he had lost.
Now, many years later, my life was changing yet again, and I was as petrified as ever before. The last ten years – the last two in particular – had been turbulent and not at all what I had wished them to be. So I should have welcomed the change wholeheartedly, yet I could not.
Two months ago, a letter had arrived from New York, addressed to me. It was an offer that I perform one aria – one night only, for an amount so large I had gasped when I read the figure. It was outrageous. When Raoul had seen the price his mood instantly brightened. We were again sinking in a pool of debt brought on by his obsession with gambling and the money was direly needed – a God send, really. There was no way we could refuse.
Now, four months later we were aboard the Persephone, on our way to America. While I was excited, I was also ill with unease. We had no idea what awaited us when we disembarked, and still no more knowledge of who this Mr. Whye was, than the day we received the letter.
I had not yet been given the aria I was to sing, but the letter had stated that I was to receive the music and instruction upon my arrival at the park.
Phantasma.
The name unsettled me. It was ridiculous but I could not shake the chill which filled me. Yet, I had to agree with Raoul; no matter how strange the offer, the money was too vitally needed to pass up. It was just three days till my performance – Labor Day – and we were nearly upon New York.
For the last forty minutes I had sat on deck looking out into the calming sapphire waters of the Atlantic as passengers meandered by. While our suite had its own private promenade deck, I preferred to watch the life that unfolded around me. Mothers with their children, the tenderness of it, spouses with their loves, the affection exchanged between them. There were young couples just starting out on life's journey, and ones whose was coming to its end. The longer their unity, the more I observed tiny delicate intimacies learned over years of sharing their lives, their hopes and dreams. I couldn't help but be envious of them.
"Mother!"
It was Gustave, followed by Captain Franks.
"Darling!" I rose to greet them. "Did you enjoy your tour of the ship with Captain Franks?"
The moment Gustave had laid eyes on the massive ocean liner, he was enthralled with it. He asked question upon question, all of which neither Raoul nor myself could answer. His mind was an endless sponge that demanded saturation. We had been seated at the Captain's table for meals, and being the amiable gentleman that he was, it was not hard for me to inquire if he would mind allowing Gustave to look over the ship.
Gustave was absolutely glowing, the amber burning bright within his happy eyes."It was amazing Mother! You've just got to see how big the engine room is!"
"I did have quite a time dragging him away from my chief engineer," laughed the silver haired captain.
"I'm so sorry. I do hope he was not too much trouble."
"Oh, no Comtess – not at all, it was my pleasure." He smiled with sincere warmth.
"I thank you very much for taking the time to give him a tour yourself. I know how much it means to him."
"No thanks is necessary, Comtess. I only apologize that I couldn't have shown him around the old girl sooner."
"Well, I still thank you Captain Franks. I shall not forget your kindness."
He smiled graciously. "Well, I should be going. We'll be docking shortly. Comtess, it has been my great pleasure getting to know you and your family on this journey of yours. I hope to see you aboard the Persephone again someday soon."
"As do we." We had dined at the captain's table for the duration of our voyage. We had all come to grow quite fond of the affable captain.
He smiled, bowed, said a farewell to Gustave and strode down the tawny sun-soaked deck.
For a solid hour, we walked the length of the ship, which was considerable, and then back again, as Gustave told me every detail of his tour. I listened willingly, aptly.
". . . then Captain Franks said we had to be going because he needed to get back to the bridge in preparation of our arrival. But he promised that the next time we were aboard, I could return to the engine room and question Mr. Brigs again and find out how it precisely all works." He stopped and turned to me. "Thank you for asking Captain Franks to take me around, Mother." He smiled, and I noticed how glorious he looked in the late afternoon sun.
So beautiful. . . .
"I'm glad that you enjoyed yourself, my love."
"Oh, Mother I did! I truly did!" He hugged me, now standing almost as tall as I. I relished the feel of his arms around me.
"Then that is all that matters." I smiled, kissed his forehead and embraced him once more.
"Where's Father?" He pulled back, loiling at me in question.
"He's with Mr. Feinstein – they are discussing a possible business arrangement. . . ." I faltered; I detested lying to him.
"It's alright, Mother – you can just say that they're drinking together again." The sorrow which consumed him, splintered my heart.
"Darling, why don't you head back to our suite and make sure that Bridgett has everything packed?" I suggested. Bridgett was my maid, nanny, and above all she was my friend. She had been with us since Gustave's birth. "I'll go and fetch your father."
Still filled with woe, he nodded. "Yes, Mother." He turned to leave, but halted. "I had hoped this change would be good for Father, but it has not made any difference."
"He will change, Gustave – away from all the insidious influences of those he should not associate with – he is bound to." We all longed for him to revert back to his former sweet self – no one more than I. I did believe that a large amount of his behavior was due to those he socialized with, and not being surrounded by them, I hoped, would help to convert him.
"I want to believe as well, Mother – I really do." And he did; he wanted his father back just as much I wanted my husband.
He smiled once, turned and moved through the people populating the deck, enjoying the last of their voyage. As I watched him go my heart was heavy. As mature and wise as he was, he should not have to carry the burden of such worries upon his slight shoulders.
As I made my way to the first class smoking room – where I was quite certain I would find both Raoul and Feinstein – I breathed in the crisp salt filled air and prayed to God that once in New York, things would be different.
Perhaps I was finally welcoming change, after all.
I found him, seated at a red velvet settee across from Feinstein, brandy and cigar in hand. By the looks of it, they were half way through a bottle and were laughing raucously from its affects. I felt completely stifled in the smoke filled room and wanted to leave as soon as I was able.
Raoul appeared right at home.
"Ah, it looks as though the old ball and chain has come to end our fun, eh Comte?" said the noxious Feinstein as he eyed me approaching.
"Christine! Lewis and I were just discussing a very intriguing business proposition." Raoul stood to greet me, looking more dashing in his clean white suite than he deserved.
I had absolutely no desire to indulge him in his delusions of grandeur. There was no proposition, and if there was – he would never follow through.
"Darling, we really must be going. We shall be arriving within the hour and Gustave is looking for you. I believe he wants to tell you about his tour."
While I had no doubt that he had helped Feinstein in consuming the brandy, he had not yet drank enough for the other Raoul – the nasty one – to surface.
He smiled, in that moment looking so much like the boy I had fallen in love with. "And I should like to hear of it." He rose and extended his hand to Feinstein. "Lewis, I shall be in contact with you, rest assured."
I knew very well that he would not.
Shaking Raoul's hand, the portly, balding Englishman bid him a farewell. "Goodbye, Comte and I look forward to hearing from you." The burly man turned to me, bowed, took my hand in his and kissed it. "Until we meet again, Comtess."
I was thoroughly repulsed by his presence, and for once was glad that I could be certain of Raoul's inability to follow through. I never wanted to lay eyes on the man again. Still, I nodded and smiled through my dislike. Feinstein afforded us one last bow and thankfully, we strode off.
"Are you excited to be singing again, Christine?" His mood was buoyant, but not obnoxiously so. He was the boy I had lost. Every now and again he would surface. When he did, I held fast to him.
"I am, darling, but I am also quite anxious. It has been so long since I have sung for anyone other than Gustave, and I am quite out of practice."
"You worry uselessly." He turned to me, holding my face between his warm hands. "You will sound as lovely as you always have. Of that, I have no doubt." As if his encouraging compliment was not enough, he kissed me – not passionately, but lightly, lovingly.
Why could he not always be like this?
Why could I not always feel like this?
Nothing further was said as we walked to our suite. We entered to find Bridgett packing the last of our luggage, Gustave assisting.
"Is that all of it, Bridgett?"
"Yes, Madame." I detested the tile of Comtess and forbade the servants from calling me such. I preferred Christine, but Bridgett, no matter how close we had become, refused to address me as such. So, Madame it was.
"Good. We shall be arriving shortly." And I was right.
No sooner had Gustave gotten into animatedly describing the colossal engines, than we were entering New York Harbor. We left the suite and the care of our luggage in Bridgett's capable hands, and headed out to our private promenade deck where we caught our first glimpse of Manhattan.
It was beautiful. There was no denying that the burgeoning metropolis was a wondrous sight. The dark blue waters, the shimmering buildings, the stunning statue of Liberty – a gift from our homeland – all made the scene before us stunning. I eyed Liberty closer. She was glorious and seemed right at place among the glittering city; a great guardian welcoming those entering from foreign soils.
"Oh, Mother! Father! Look! It's all so magnificent!" Gustave cried in fascination.
"It is lovely, darling."
"Indeed, it is."Raoul agreed.
"How far is Coney Island, Father – do you think we can see it from here?" He inclined his head in all directions, hoping to catch a glimpse of the isle. The instant he learned where we were traveling, he was mesmerized by the said, 'World of Wonders'.
"I do not think so, son." Answered Raoul, smiling. "It is an isle off of the one you see now."
He was only disappointed for a moment before the sights around him recaptured his enthusiasm. "What we're seeing now is Manhattan Island, isn't it Father?" I was aware that Gustave knew very well that that was the island of Manhattan, and found my heart overflowing with with love for him for pretending not to know, just to keep Raoul talking.
"Yes, it is. I must say, it is quite something to look at, though it still pales in comparison to our glorious Paris." Raoul was a proud Parisian through and through.
"I'm not sure Father." Gustave countered. "Some of the buildings here are quite exquisite. Though the statue we passed was lovely as well." It was immediately clear that Gustave was enthralled by a city of such budding progression.
"Yes, but do not forget that Liberty was crafted by French hands, my son and it is the sole reason she is as magnificent as she is." Raoul's dislike of America, when never having set foot onto her soil, was tiresome.
Not fifteen minutes later, we were walking down the planks of the Persephone and stepping onto the docks of New York Harbor.
Our arrival had not gone unnoticed.
Throngs of photographers, reporters and spectators swarmed us. "Ms. Daaé!" They cried. The sea of humanity burst forth, shouting all at once.
"Christine!"
"Over here! This way!"
One bellow blended into the next, as we were blinded by the harsh light of the camera flashes. I kept Gustave back, holding him protectively behind me.
"Her name is Comtess de Chagny now." Raoul corrected, then warned. "No pictures of the boy!"
Ignoring him, they continued on with their questions, remarks and flashes.
"Hey Christine, why Coney Island and not the Met?" One rudely inquired.
Raoul tried in vain to defend our ridiculous acceptance. "The Comtess has been engaged by a well known–"
Cutting him off, someone yelled, "Well known! Please, no one's ever seen the guy!"
"It's the money, right?" The callousness of their questions amazed me.
"Is it true you lost all your money at a roulette table in Monte Carlo?" Would their intrusive inquiries never end?
They laughed.
"How dare you!" Raoul howled at the crowd. He turned to me in frustration. "Didn't this Mr. Whye send someone to receive us?"
Before I could say a word, Gustave cried, "Mother look! Right over there, across that square! How very strange. What is it?"
"I do not know, darling. . . ."
Making its way towards us was a carriage, the likes of which I had never seen.
It was ornately decorated, appearing like a golden glistening opal ring in the afternoon sun. Two magnificent horses trotted our way. One of white – it reminded me so much of Caesar, the stage horse I had favored at the opera, that my heart suddenly ached for him. And the other, just as glorious as the first, was raven black. But these were no ordinary horses.
They were mechanical.
Remarkable! They so closely resembled real animals, that when the spectacle came to a halt before us, the crowd hushed. I brushed my hand down the white mare's mane and was again, astonished. She was made of wood; genuine horse hair had been sewn in, giving them the illusion of appearing quite real. I wanted to glimpse a bit more of the driver, seated up front of the coach, but his face was obscured – by a mask. It was nothing like his, but the sight however, did not fail to still my heart.
The initial shock subsiding, the masses began their speculations.
"Whatever on earth could that be? It's amazing!"
We waited with baited breath as the carriage door was thrust open with a great flourish. Only . . . there was no one inside; the compartment was totally empty. There was no there.
Then there was.
Emerging from the seats, walls and floors were people – three of them. They had camouflaged themselves perfectly into the interior in a way that was mindboggling. They removed themselves from the carriage in strange, disjointed, yet somehow remarkably fluid motions. Making their way towards us, using the same odd movements – like an unknown dance – in unison, the three bowed.
The more they drew near, the more I sensed Raoul's discomfort as he stood beside me. The three in front of us were freaks – as some would surely call them – and since the events of the opera, Raoul had a dislike of those who were different. You could not blame him, his only encounter with one who was unusual had not gone well – that person had tried to kill him.
There were two males and a female. One man was massive, the other emaciated. The girl was dressed all in black and had distinct a bird-like appearance about her. The large one spoke first.
"Are you ready to begin? Are you ready to get on; you're about to start out on the journey of your lives." As huge as he was, I sensed great gentleness to the giant.
Without warning, the mammoth reached forward and magically pulled a rainbow colored handkerchief from behind Gustave's ear. Instead of being startled by this, Gustave was absolutely spellbound.
Raoul however, was not awestruck. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"It's a publicity stunt for that freak show on Coney," said a male reporter.
Another one squealed. "It's a front page feature is what it is!" Turning to her photographer, the blonde barked, "Are you getting this?" The round man nodded as he snapped a photo of the peculiar trio.
The tall, gangly one moved closer. "If you're ready, then get in. Once you're in then we'll get gone, and who knows once it goes where you'll be when it arrives." Snapping forward, he removed Raoul's hat, vanishing it into thin air before our eyes.
"This is absolutely outrageous! How dare you!" Raoul's protests were drowned by the astonished buzzing of the crowd.
"It's completely ingenious! That Mr. Whye is really something!"
Flanking us, one on each side, the two strange men herded us towards the bizarre looking carriage where the dark woman awaited.
"It's a fun house where the mirrors all reflect what's real, and reality's as twisted as the mirrors reveal." Their talk was riddle like, and quite unnerving. While I did not want to go along with the bizarre trio, I saw no other choice. Cautiously, I stepped into the carriage.
Raoul followed, though he was not pleased. "This is completely unacceptable! I'll be taking this up with your employer! Do you hear me?" They smiled, bowed again, but said nothing further. Huffing loudly, he reluctantly got in beside me. He was livid, the cream of his skin flushed bright with pink. I knew we would be hearing about this for the rest of the day, at the very least.
Bridgett fearfully made her way in, followed by Gustave, who was rapt with wide-eyed wonder as he sat next to Raoul, taking in his surroundings. The three strange escorts got in and sat on the golden satin seat across from us, and the carriage was instantly in motion.
The interior of the coach was exquisite. From the glimmering satin fabric, gleaming polished wood and inlayed ivory details, it was opulence like I had never seen before. Gustave was in utter awe.
We rode to the hotel in a festering silence, the only one spared was Gustave, and that was simply because his mind was elsewhere, ever working. At last, reaching a towering building of silver, the female spoke as the giant opened the door. We had still not been introduce or given their names.
"This is the Hotel Phantasma." Her voice had an eerie ring about it. She said nothing else, and I assumed that meant we were to get out.
As we stepped from the carriage, the person who greeted us was as equally odd as those who had brought us there.
Appearing both male and female, wearing half of a black tuxedo and half of a white ball gown, it spoke.
"Welcome! Welcome! I am Kerie, and it is the great pleasure of Mr. Whye to have you here at Phantasma!"
Once again, Raoul was less than happy. "My God, what is this?"
Smiling, Kerie answered, "This is the Hotel Phantasma, of course! Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your suite."
"Where is this Mr. Whye? I have some things I should like to discuss with him."
"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. de Chagny, but Mr. Whye doesn't see anyone. You can however, speak with his assistant tomorrow."
Someone, a teenage boy, dressed all in white made off with our luggage.
"Unbelievable!" Raoul bellowed as we walked through the glass front doors. "What kind of a business man could this Mr. Whye be if he does not receive anyone?"
"A very clever one, sir." Kerie smiled, but said nothing further.
While my eyes tried to take in all there was to see within – and there was a lot – we were hustled through the wide open vestibule, past a stunningly unique ruby glass reception desk; behind which sat a girl who was no larger than a toddler. While it appeared that all the employees were . . . different, those who populated the lobby and lounge as we passed, were ordinary. They were like us.
"I thought we were being shown to our suite? Why in the devil would we go in there?" Raoul asked in astonishment.
There was a utility closet; complete with brooms, buckets, mops and cleaning supplies.
Before Kerie could answer, Raoul cried, "This is insanity! Do you mean to tell me that we've come all this way to be cloistered in some – some – pantry!"
"Please, Mr. de Chagny – here, at Hotel Phantasma, nothing is as it seems. You must learn to trust that which you cannot see or at first understand. Enter and see past what your eyes tell you is real."
"Lunacy! That's what this is!" Raoul raged, as he huffed his way into the closet.
"I think it's rather fun!" Gustave cried, jumping through the doorway after Raoul.
I said nothing, simply followed, but Bridgett was highly hesitant.
"Miss?" Kerie motioned for her to enter as well, but she stayed where she was.
"Come along, Bridgett – there's nothing to fear." I felt bad for her; she was clearly afraid.
"But Madame, it is nothing but a cleaning closet!"
"At least someone else here has half a brain." Raoul muttered beside me.
"Bridgett, please trust me. You forget that this is a hotel meant for patrons of the park and from what we have witnessed thus far – it is quite unlike anything we have ever seen. Trust me, all will be fine." God bless her, she did and slowly made her way into the tiny claustrophobic space.
With the five of us, and cleaning supplies crammed into the minuscule room – I did not see where there was for us to go.
Kerie closed the door, fully extinguishing what little amount of air there was. He smiled, reaching up for the string of the electric light illuminating the room.
"Don't be frightened. This will only take a moment."
Suddenly afraid, I clutched Gustave to my side.
Then all was dark.
We were in motion; I could feel the low humming vibration beneath my feet.
"What the–" Raoul began, his voice filled with unease.
"We're here!"
It was light again. Kerie stood facing us, the door to the 'closet' open and what we saw beyond was no longer the lobby, but a vast hallway. A long line of red velour ran down a white marble floor, past doors of black stained oak and walls covered in white satin-esque wallpaper.
"This is your floor, please follow me."
The four of us stood as still as stone, completely in shock. We were all as astounded as to how a utility closet could have taken us from the ground level to wherever floor we were on. It was unsettling, and almost on cue, we ran from the room into the brightly lit hallway. All of us, but Gustave, who stood there fascinated, his eyes absolutely aflame with interest.
Bridgett on the other hand, looked like a frightened bird in the large corridor. "How shall we ever find our way back down and out?"
"There's no need to fret." Kerie soothed. "If you should like to leave the way you came, simply call Collette – our receptionist – with the telephone in your suite and she will send someone up who can escort you. Or – you can use the private staircase located in your suite. That will take you anywhere in the hotel you need travel to."
This seemed to relax both Bridgett and Raoul; I couldn't deny that it comforted me, as well.
"Let's get on with it then. Gustave! Come along, NOW!" Raoul was at his breaking point – this had all been too much for him, I could tell. He appeared strong, but inwardly, he was little boy.
Gustave was so consumed with the unusual lift and the marvel of it, he did not hear Raoul. To avoid another outburst, I rushed to Gustave, taking him by the arm.
"Darling, we must go to our suite now, your father is waiting."
He was crestfallen to leave. "Yes, Mother." Obeying, he walked with me into the hall.
"Right this way, please." Kerie was ever patient, seeming to take notice of none of the family squabbling.
Gustave did not release my hand as we followed Kerie down the brightly lit hall. Raoul huffed, puffed and muttered the whole way, as Bridgett rang out some invisible wet cloth held in her hands. Stopping at the last black door on the left – there were so many doors, so many rooms – Kerie pulled a red crystal skeleton key from a pocket.
"Wow!" The glittering key seemed to excite Gustave more than anything we had seen yet.
"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Kerie too, appeared in awe of the key's beauty.
I thought it was uniquely beautiful, but did not understand their affinity for it. It was only a key. That was Gustave though; capable of finding beauty in the simplest of things.
"Please, for heaven's sake, can we enter already?"
"Of course, Mr. de Chagny."
Placing the sparkling key into the gold lock, Kerie lead us into our suite – and what a suite it was.
To say that it was large would be a vast understatement. It was gigantic, and as plush with grandeur and elegance as the rest of the things we had seen in relation to Phantasma.
"At least there's a fully stocked bar." Raoul made his way across the pristinely white carpet – so immaculate it looked brand new – past the ornate mahogany furniture, the exquisite black grand piano and the sights outside the large towering windows, taking notice of none of it as he made for the brandy, his faithful pain reliever.
"Mother, look!" Gustave had run first to the shiny piano, upon which he found a toy of some kind. "Is this for me?"
"Darling, I do not know, but please be careful with it – whatever it is."
"The stairwell?" Bridgett inquired anxiously.
"Oh, yes! Right this way." Kerie walked us through a sitting room, coming to a stop in the next room, a library – yes, there was a library! I had never before stayed at a hotel with a suite near as large, and the fact that it had a library was simply unheard of. The collection of books was so massive, that one could never hope to read them all.
"This is so fantastic!" Again, just as with the key, the endless pages of knowledge – he loved to learn; it did not matter what, he simply relished in gaining new information – intrigued Gustave. He never forgot any of it either; his little mind was like an unfaltering steel trap. Quickly, he scurried over to one of the numerous titles lining the walls.
"Now, if any of you should desire to use the stairs, I think you'll find Romeo and Juliet is what you're looking for." It was cryptic, to say the least, but we watched – all of us wanting to know how to escape should the need arise – as Kerie pulled a ratty edition of William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet from a shelf. A moment later, the bookcase opened outward, revealing a brightly lit spiral staircase.
"Amazing!" Gustave was frozen in awe. His inactivity only lasted a moment and then he was alive again with excitement. "Father, may I go down it now, please?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Why not?" He challenged heatedly. He was getting angry – the telltale amber ring was shinning brighter by the second.
"Because I said so! That's why!" Raoul drank down the remainder of the liquid in the glass melded to his hand – it was his third already – and sighed in irritation. "Why must you fight me every step of the way? WHY! " Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked back the way he had come; back to the liquor.
Gustave stood in the middle of the room looking smaller than he had only a moment before. The proud, strong, fiery young man who had argued with his father was gone. It was just my ten year old child instead. I went to him.
"Later, sweetheart – I promise." I tried to hold him to me, but he sullenly pulled back. I did not blame him; he was hurting.
Kerie's mask fell – uncomfortable now, you could tell. "To close the door from here, simply place the book back in its place. To close it from the other side, pull down on the unlit torch you'll find on the wall, and the entrance shall close behind you. The same goes for opening it."
"Thank you, Kerie. We are very grateful for your kindness." Raoul might not have been, but I was.
"It's been my pleasure. If you or anyone else should require anything, use the telephone in the room through which we came, dial zero and Collette will take care of all your needs."
"Yes, Kerie. Thank you."
Kerie bowed and left the room. It was Bridgett, Gustave and I. I hoped seeing the staircase would calm her, but Bridgett did not look any more relieved than she had.
I patted her shoulder in reassurance. "Do not worry, Bridgett – everything will be alright.
She shook her head feebly and smiled weakly. "I shall start unpacking, Madame."
It was just Gustave and I.
I went to him again, where he stood with his back to me, absently running his fingers over the titles before him, but before I could lay my hands upon him, he turned to face me.
"I'm fine, Mother. I suppose Father is very tired – that's all." He was not fine and we both knew Raoul was not tired; he was trying to be brave – for me.
God, how much I love him.
"Yes, darling, he is tired." Both of us knew contrary, yet we played the game all the same. "Come, let us look around. I know you saw that fine piano, but what of the rest of our rooms?"
That was what we did, went from room to room – there were eleven in total. Off of the library was a hallway which lead to a master bedroom, three additional bedrooms could be accessed from the hall, a kitchen, a washroom and a room designed with a child in mind, a playground of sorts. That room was Gustave's favorite. It was filled with toys, games, anything a child could want to play with. It was as though it had been made just for him, it was wonderful. It was there that we stopped a while. I did not mind sitting back as Gustave busied himself, I loved watching him. He was smiling, it brought him joy, and that was all that mattered.
Finally, we made our way back to the sitting room. Bridgett was busy situating our things in our rooms. Raoul however, was wearing down the plush carpet from his ceaseless pacing. I had hoped we had been gone long enough that he would have cooled down, but he was obviously still irate.
"Where have you two been? It's been an hour!" He had drank far more in our absence; his words were somewhat slurred and that spoke volumes.
"We were looking over the different rooms, and we found one that–" He was not listening and did not let me finish.
"I simply cannot get over the nerve – the malice of such a slight!" Malice – was he joking? I knew however, that he was not and that it would all go so much more smoothly if I did not say a thing.
He was nowhere near through voicing his complaints. "How dare they treat us in such a disrespectful fashion! Who does that Mr. Whye think he is? Well, I don't care who he is, who he knows, or how much money he has, the manner in which we're being treated is beyond insulting!"
I remained silent, while Gustave tuned it all out. He was occupied, with what, I could not see, his back was to me.
"Have you nothing to say about any of this, Christine?"
I did not feel as though we had been slighted in any way, nor that we had been treated poorly. There was nothing for me to say. He wanted me to agree, not contradict.
"I am sure that no one intended a slight, dear."
"Not intended! Are you mad!" He looked at me as though I had ten heads. "Of course it was deliberate! Don't be stupid, Christine. It was an outright slap in the face! I seriously have a mind to pack and go!" He sighed, gulped down another brandy and revealed, "But this would erase all our debts, and we no longer have the luxury of pride. Who would have ever thought such a thing was a luxury, but it is." Slumping down on the burgundy sofa, he put his head in his hands and sighed. "I never dreamed we would have sunk so low."
The angry man had vanished, leaving behind the sad boy. Even through all of his nasty ways, remarks and actions, I could not find it within me, to not reach out to him in comfort. I sat down beside him and placed my hand upon his shoulder.
"Darling, do not fret. I am sure all will be fine once–"
"Don't patronize me, Christine! It's your fault we're here at all!"
"My fault?" There were many things for which I was to be held accountable for, but our mountain of debt was Raoul's cross to bear, not mine.
"Yes! I knew how much performing again would mean to you! Of course we need the money, but that was not the main reason! It was for you! That's why I agreed to all of this!" The boy was long gone, and the angry man was back.
There was no reasoning with the angry man, but I would try, as I always did.
"Please, darling – I do not want to quarrel. If it would make you happy we can leave this place tonight. Say the word and I will follow you anywhere." I knew that he would never abandon the money – it meant too much to him – but the surprise that filled his eyes as I had spoke was unexpected.
"You would do that?"
"Yes. If you truly want to go home and work on . . . changing, I would march right in and tell Bridgett to repack everything she has unpacked and we will leave immediately." I was not lying. If he wanted to return home on those terms, I would flee in a moment. It would mean he truly was looking to change.
My words seemed to soothe his temper; againhe fell heavily onto the settee.
"Father, come look at what they gave to me!" Gustave cried, running towards us with a note of some kind, along with the toy that had first grabbed his attention when we had walked in. "It's for me! The note says so!"
"Not now, son – please, not now." Raoul was not harsh with him, just weary.
Gustave, however – once that excited by something – was not easily swayed.
"But look! If you wind it, it plays a melody!"
Sure enough, the little toy – a boy playing a piano – began to move and play! It was a music box. Each finger pressed an ivory key, which in turn moved to create an enchanting melody. It was whimsical and light. The little box was amazing. No sooner had I turned to Raoul and smiled, quite taken with the little thing – for I had never seen anything quite like it. . . .
That I realized, the revelation hitting me as hard as brick, that I had seen something like it – just like it.
I watched as Raoul saw the similarity, the past rising to shadow his eyes, and standing it no more, rose abruptly.
"I need some air." Stopping to refill his empty glass before exiting, he swallowed it quickly and made for the exit.
"Raoul, please–"
"Please what!" He spat, as he turned at the open door.
"Nothing." I did not want to fight any longer. I wanted to be able to turn and let him go, but I could not. I was compelled to add, "Please – do not drink anymore."
"Is that all?" My desperate plea had fallen on deaf ears.
I nodded, turning from him – I could not stand to see who he had become any longer. I heard, as well as felt, as he slammed the door to the library closed behind him.
And here I was hoping he would change.
"Father never plays with me. Doesn't he love me?"
My poor Gustave.
"Darling, of course your Father loves you! He loves you very much! He is not angry with you, but with himself."
Damn Raoul!
I wanted to kill him for making Gustave feel as though he were unloved, unwanted. As hard as Raoul could be with him, I knew that he loved the child – just as I knew that no matter how mean he could be to me, he still loved me. But trying to make a ten year old understand the many rules of love was another matter.
"Then why doesn't Father show it?" Tears began to well within his doubtful eyes.
"He does love you, darling. It is just . . . hard for him to express it at times." He was still unconvinced. "Love, Gustave – it is a very curious thing. It so often comes disguised and if you do not look closely, it could slip right from your fingers. Look with your heart. If you do that, it shall never lead you astray. The heart never lies. Trust what it tells you – no matter what. Do you understand me?" He shook his head, but I knew that he did not, not truly.
"Learn from someone who knows, darling – love that is misunderstood can often end in regret." I never wanted Gustave to feel the sharp pangs of regret.
Regret.
If there was anything worse, I could not think of it. At the end of the day it was regret that festered within us; it lingered on and on. . . .
Pulling me from my dark thoughts, Gustave spoke. "I promise to try and always look with my heart, Mother."
I smiled. "Yes, my love, I believe that you will. And if you do so, you shall see how very much your father loves you."
"Yes, Mother." He smiled back. He meant every word, and more importantly, he had understood what I had said.
I held him close – he was getting so tall – kissed the top of his honey haired head and released him.
"It has been a long day, darling. I think perhaps it is time for you to eat a little something and then retire. Bridgett?"
She entered the room immediately.
"Yes, Madame?" She too looked spent.
"Please see that Gustave has something to eat, and then retires right after. He is more tired than he thinks." I smiled at him lovingly.
"Of course, Madame. Is there anything else?"
"No Bridgett that will be all. The Comte has gone out for the night and I am not sure when he shall return. I have much on my mind and do not have an appetite. I believe I will get some air out on the balcony before I retire. Have you finished unpacking?"
"Just, Madame. The furniture – it is some of the finest I have ever seen. This place is almost too lovely to be real." It was quite clear that she did not feel any more comfortable.
Ignoring her statement, I said, "After you have seen to Gustave, you may have the rest of the night to do with as you please, Bridgett. We will not be needing you further."
She nodded.
Without speaking, Gustave left my side. I watched as he disappeared out the door beside Bridgett.
It was not fair. I never wanted this life for my son.
Change.
I had thought it would be unavoidable, yet we were right where we were in Paris.
I sighed. My head ached from the tremendous weight of my thoughts. Without realizing I had wandered there, I found myself standing beside the magnificently beautiful piano. I noticed the sheet music resting upon it, and to give my wandering mind something to do, I began to hum the melody.
It was beautiful.
More than beautiful – it was magnificent. It captured me more than any piece I had heard in. . . .
Oh, God.
In a fog of numbing realization, I picked up the toy music box – so unique, yet so familiar and walked out on to the balcony, I needed air – and wound it.
The melody it played was not the same, but it was also not unfamiliar – no, it was very familiar.
I felt a slight shift in the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, my breath caught, my heart accelerated.
I was not alone. . . .
*Hey guys!
Sorry it's taken me so long to get this out, but these last three chapters (since 5) have been larger than I've thought they were going to be – hopefully in a good way – and have taken more time to write than I ever thought ;) I hope you like this one! Please let me know what you think in a review :)
To my beta, GraySkies29: You are THE BEST beta ANYONE could EVER ASK FOR *like the caps? LOL* ;) Seriously, thank you so much!
-Shannon*
