11.
"...When I am laid, am laid in earth, may my wrongs create
No trouble, no trouble in, in thy breast..."
Her voice sounded distant but surprisingly clear, while it was coming from everywhere around me. By luck undoubtedly, she had managed to find a spot from where sound, could be carried around in the tunnels. I wondered how far it would travel before it dissipate inevitably. Pondering on such a fine acoustic phenomenon I raced back home, to make her sing quietly. My mind was full with calculations of distances and materials and I nearly missed it.
Frozen, I extinguished all thoughts, and listened carefully. He was coming closer. Where I was standing, my boundary was long since crossed and the trespasser would have to receive a well-measured warning, at least. Christine's singing had made me anxious to return home and I hoped, it would be a new face from behind the next corner. Or, a one time acquaintance perhaps? Two times? Three, at worst, for since her return, I was generous and willing to grant them an extra chance. Not that I considered myself as given a second opportunity, anyway. No, quite simply it brought me a kind of pleasure to look at the victim, knowing perfectly well his life was in my hands not three but four times precisely. Despite my unwillingness to kill for nothing more but walking beyond an invisible line, I had to keep them away from myself and Christine. Whoever, he was hardly deaf.
Quite naturally, the man bore a history of three brutal warnings, monsieur Alphonse Morel. A gun in one hand, a lantern in the other he was walking down one of my mostly used routes, his mouth agape trying to decipher the source of the music. Just like the other day, if my memory was not mistaken. I swallowed a sigh while a strategy was up in a second and carried on in the next.
The light, the gun, the neck, the end. Soundless and clean and … quite heavy to carry for a long time. Damned fat fool!
"... Forget my fate..."
His fate was something I've predicted years ago when I've first spotted him wandering around the second cellar. Some people never learn and now I had to dispose of the body through the nearest nest which was some fifteen minutes away. Bloody, heavy bastard! I robbed him of anything that might give away his identity, gathered the gun, and picked him up.
"...Forget my fate..."
xxx
Entering the cave, I neared a table and emptied my pockets of the late man's possessions. The revolver was the only object of interest for me and I sat to examine it. Most of my murders were conducted without robbery and up till now, I've never taken a weapon of any kind from the dead. Yet, since I wanted Morel to disappear, literally, I had to collect everything. His gun needed cleaning and I moved to the back ot the room where my own weapons lay cleaned and ready for immediate use. I disassembled my new piece and began to grease it thoroughly with much patience and care. Weapons are like musical instruments. You either give them your undivided attention at time, or risk a highly unsatisfactory result in the most critical of moments. My number 14 hadn't been the Viscount, despite my predictions.
"What are you going to do with this?"
Christine sounded nervous, so I reassured her without looking away from my task.
"It's necessary to fend to mechanical items regularly in a moist environment, Christine. Look at the spots of rust here, they can grow and damage the barrel."
She was not convinced and since I had nothing more to add we sat silently until I finished my work and put the new gun next to my older one. Christine had observed the procedure with some curiosity and I was about to make a joke, when an echo of her singing, quietly emerged from the depths of my mind. Gazing at her, our eyes met and for a moment I simply forgot what I was going to say. After all those days, it was still a miracle how she was looking at my face without any sign of unease or repulsion. Alas, I could not stop searching for one every time we shared a room. Even now, I expected her to say something about my face.
Quite the opposite, Christine continued to look calmly at me, a soft encouraging smile forming on her lips. Her lips, her voice, ah yes.
"You need to keep your voice low while down here."
Her confusion was only a momentary transition to a face of pure disbelief.
"You've heard me sing? But how?"
I smiled at her pop-eyed expression and pointed at my ears.
"With those two, I suppose. Look, Christine, I don't..."
"But it's impossible! Truly impossible. I was in your hiding place, below the lake and it was a very quiet singing, believe me. How could... What was I singing, Angel?"
My eyebrows jumped at the insult implied. Look at that woman! I made my voice ice cold and barked.
"Purcell, Christine. A baroque aria performed in a bel canto style, quite unfortunately!"
The girl withdrew at my unmeasured aggression. Her face fell and red, covered her otherwise pale complexion.
"By the way, what were you doing down there? Using the skulls as an audience? I told you this is only in case of trouble."
Her eyes returned on mine with a mixed frown.
"And how am I to hide there, if I can't find your lock in time? It took me so long to find it today with no one breathing in my neck. I wanted to get familiar with the place and with your horrible collection!"
Christine was offended and I could clearly see how embarrassed she was from the outcome of her little adventure.
"Did you memorize its location?"
"The lock? Yes, I think. I was planning to try again tomorrow but since you disapprove..."
I didn't know how to apologize for rising my voice, so I stepped closer and grasped her upper arms gently.
"I do not. It is wise, indeed, to get to know this place better. Definitely a good idea to start your exploration with the stash. Still, I insist you stay quiet especially when I am not around."
She looked up, then nodded her promise, while I fought the urge to kiss her alabaster forehead. She was becoming more beautiful with every passing day. Her voice was coming back as well, to tempt me and remind me of things long gone. Christine needed to sing and there was an idea already forming in my mind.
I let her go, and quickly went to the organ to sound several major chords.
"You've made me wonder if that cave is really as sound prove as I've believed in all my years down here. Of course, there was never a way to check that up, but now with your help, I can easily find out the truth. Do you agree to help me, dear?"
She smiled reassuringly with some sparks of intrigue in her eyes. My mood had also improved greatly since my earlier encounter with Mr. Morel. I run to the table and drew a brief sketch of the main chamber and the bedroom.
"I consider that as an "yes" then. Come and see, dear."
She got closer and I pointed the pensil at several places while marking them with consecutive digits.
"I want you to stand in every spot following the numbers. Stand still and sing a phrase with moderate loudness, something that you like. Then, move to the next and sing a different verse. The whole thing will be over in roughly 25 minutes. I will go outside and listen to your voice. Do you have anything to ask, Christine?"
I was excited. I haven't conducted a single experiment for so long and never before I had anyone to assist me. That fact alone, was opening a whole new set of possibilities. But will she agree? I searched her face and found it brighter and concentrated on … my own.
"What makes you so radiant, girl?"
Christine looked shyly away, hiding a delicate smile.
"You call me 'dear', again. After everything I've done, after all my sins, I thought I would never be a 'dear' to anyone, not to you anyway. You are so kind."
I was stunned by her words and attitude and couldn't think of anything to say. She was dear to me and much much more. Have I ever given her reason to believe otherwise?
Christine took the sketch from my hand and went to spot number one.
"I am ready to begin, Angel. I count to ten after you leave and sing, correct?"
My mind was trying hard to work on both her words and the planned procedure simultaneously. The experiment won, and I headed for the exit, marking her words as unimportant. Silly Christine, trying to confuse the Phantom of the Opera! Silly little girl.
xxx
"Angel?May we have music lessons sometime? Singing lessons ?"
What was she up to now? She was singing quite well on her own in the last several days, there was no need to interfere. Sure, I enjoyed the company of her voice, especially when it was a sign of her improved mental stability. Less crying and praying for her son, more singing – good!. Did she think she was going to please me with that?
I put the sheet down and turned to face her despite my unwillingness to discuss that particular topic. She was peeping at the scores stacked on the organ behind me.
"What for, Christine?"
Her gaze become troubled. She looked hesitantly between my eyes and managed some kind of a smile.
"It's been a while, really. It appears, I've forgotten much more than I thought. Besides, there is so much more to be learned especially from you, Maestro."
Her smile faded when she realized I wasn't going to smile back. That impossible woman was mocking me, playing on my nerves or...
"If you are bored, my dear, I will find you..."
"No, not bored at all. I only ask because we used to enjoy it back then."
"Truly, Christine?"
She looked away, at my sarcastic question and after a pause said reluctantly.
"No, I miss that time dearly, Angel."
Well, I did not! All those years the only reason why I continued with the "Angel of Music" deception, was because I honestly believed she loved our lessons. So many times I've stopped myself from revealing the truth just because I feared she would lose faith in herself and abandon her singing. Lies and lies for nothing! Well, she traded my lies for her own, so it wasn't for nothing after all. Now, I needed no lies, no more. Not after seeing the truth with my own eyes and especially not after it had been shouted to my face on the night of that damned premiere. She didn't hate me, but she felt nothing for me or my music. I let my anger go with a deep sigh.
"You are a terrible liar, sweet child. Please..., let me finish. I don't know what made you bring the subject forth, but I want to reassure you, there is absolutely no need for you to try to please me or, do what you think I may like. No matter what you do or say, you can stay here as long as you like, I already told you so. If you decide to go, I will give you enough means to rent a place to your liking and will support you as long as you wish. Don't feel obliged to do anything you don't want to, Christine. Am I understood?"
Christine was listening with a growing confusion making my last question unnecessary. Maybe I should try this in swedish? I saw her face change several times while she was picking her words carefully. The answer came quiet but firm.
"But, I do want to have a singing lesson."
I pressed my eyes hard back into the sockets, fighting to remain calm.
"Why are you doing this, Christine?"
Her taking my hands away from my face was the final drop and I pushed her back and moved from the organ facing the exit, one step from another long walk. No, I wanted to know.
"I know you didn't care about our lessons before, so why is this now?"
Christine quickly came around me, her mouth open and eyes wide.
"I LOVED our lessons and you know it! They were a dream come true for me. They were everything to me. My moments of music and happiness. Dear lord, you saw it yourself! How can you say I didn't care? Why? What happened to you?"
She was frustrated to no end, but I didn't give a damn, as I began yelling back.
"Two years of silence and thinking happened to me Christine, nearly three. Not to mention, the six month gap, before the new year's mask ball. I was a damned fool! I was watching you, Christine, watching and waiting for you to find another teacher, to continue our work, for Christ's sake! For music's sake! I told myself over and over that it was only because of my face, that our music will be saved and pushed forward by your ambition to become the greatest Prima Dona of our time... I see that you remember. No, no, no, don't cry now! There is no need of tears and apologies."
She was crying but I was unable to stop. I spread my arms so she could have a really good look at me.
"As you can see I know the truth. It nearly killed me to realize your so called devotion, had been nothing but childish obedience and fear of being punished by a heavenly angel. I was very strict, right? That's what you told him on your very first meeting, for I was there watching this nobody, running into your life and receiving a better welcome than your sincerely devoted teacher could ever hope for. I was there when you were given smaller and smaller parts and watched with utter disbelief how you accepted this without a word of protest. With the Viscount already secured, you didn't have to bother anymore. Your passion for music melted like a snow in April and soon there was nothing left. Now Christine, will you dare say again, you want a voice lesson? You little..."
Christine had covered her mouth with one hand, the other was pressed to her chest an a vile attempt to suppress her sobs. That picture alone, evaporated all my malice and hatred. God, I didn't want her to cry.
"Look dear, it is all in the past, and irrelevant here. I became agitated because I wish you had a better trust in me and told me about it. Christine... Christine look. Back then I tried with all my self control gathered, to be kind and patient with you on most occasions and apparently I haven't been either for which I apologies, my dear."
Tired and sad I returned to the organ and sat heavily without looking at her.
"I am a monster but I tried. I only wished you have not been that much afraid. Your divine voice must have blinded me to the truth. Someone with such a voice should undoubtedly want to sing, I thought. Music... music was closer to me but I was ready to do anything for you, anything you wish from the ugly monster. You needed only name it, sweet girl."
I didn't look up even when her steps came closer. I had finished with those thoughts long ago and the current recall was more than unwanted. It had taken much time, pain and desperation to understand it all. Too much.
My head was grabbed and pulled with such ferocity, I had no time to react and then I was facing Christine's bosom while being embraced strongly. She was very upset, her body shaking from her crying, my head rained upon from her tears. Christ, I hated that!
I moved to free myself, but she didn't allow it, so instead I hugged her back for balance and waited. Why was she crying, I could not understand. Since my return, we've had several days of pleasant companionship, unmarked by sorrow and grieve. I was back to my usual routine while Christine was making herself more comfortable in my home. It was obvious, she was planning to stay. Hell, if I continue to sadden her, she might reconsider.
Pressed against her breasts, I thought about my newest, very recent experience. Inhaling deeply, I imagined I could smell their delicate, delicious scent even through her shirt. Last night I had tasted both of them at last, after several half spoken jokes about the "neglected" one from Christine's side. How that small childish mouth was able to utter such words was still beyond me. To think it, even to say it! Not that I was complaining, really. The only moment of doubt was when I couldn't decide on which side to position myself for sleeping – it made Christine laugh.
Now, however she wasn't laughing and it was time to do something about it. Looking up, I met her tear stained face and opened my mouth to talk, when she said.
"How is that possible, Angel? After you disappeared that night, I was convinced you never wanted to hear my voice again. You didn't call for me ever, and I thought you wanted nothing to do with me because I took it... your mask."
Well, that was a surprise but she was so shamed, I couldn't stand to see her torturing herself like this. I stood up, taking her face in my palms, leading her up to look me in the eyes.
"I killed a man to make a point and to secure, you will play the leads from now on. What more could you ask as a confirmation?"
Christine's gaze was so intense, it was penetrating, yet her voice was shaking.
"You mean you... you... you... It wasn't because you were mad at me?"
"It wasn't, dear. You've seen me in all my ugly glory, I had nothing more to lose. I didn't have to pretend I was an angel anymore. Instead, I unleashed the monster to keep my word and to make them listen. And..."
"And?"
At that point it was my turn to be ashamed.
"I wanted you to see, by giving you the lead I mean, that I could give you a stable future in the opera theater no worse than he would. That was all I had to offer against his normality and richness and place in the society."
I let go of her face and sat on the bench. Christine eyed me for a brief moment and I slid aside to make room for her. She took the place offered, and let out a deep, shaky sigh.
"I thought you killed him for taking Carlota's place. It's ridiculous, I know but then I was too terrified to think rationally. And when I didn't get a main role in the next production and everything went without any incidents I was convinced you didn't want me to sing anymore. Angel, I sware in my father's grave I would have never abandoned our work if I didn't believe that was your will. It was fair to give up singing without you. That way I didn't feel that I have used you only for singing. I consented to sing small parts in hope that you would get the message."
"What message, Christine?"
She took my hand forcing me to look her in the eyes. They were painfully sincere.
"That I will never achieve greatness without you. I was afraid and appalled of what you did but you were the only teacher I wanted. Raoul wanted to find me another but I refused. My silence was to honor our bond. I never wanted to cause you pain, you must believe me. You were MY teacher and I was never afraid of you, never."
Only a teacher, of course. Christine squeezed my hand just in time to cut the sad thoughts short. God bless you, child. I dreamy smile was gracing her lips.
"You know what? That same bond, I never stoped feeling it. Not until we left the Opera House and Paris for good. I must have been so naïve."
She shook her head while I could only wait for her next words. Christine's face was unnaturally serious when she continued.
"It was here, our bond, even during that six months. I felt loved and protected as always but since you were gone, I reassured myself Raoul was the source of my coziness. Only after a couple of weeks away from Paris, I realized the feeling was no more. He was with me all this time but something essential was missing. I thought I was longing to see Meg and Madam Giry and when Raoul refused to invite them it was painful and a bit humiliating. He had never before treated me like that. Afterwords I became sick and had so many other worries I didn't have time to ponder on my lose. You never left, didn't you? While I was trying not to think of you, you were there, pained by my refusal to sing. Correct, Angel?"
"Correct, Christine."
"I am so sorry, Angel, I should have known that you valued highly our work. Especially after knowing you were a man. All this time spent with me... for me. All those moments when I would hear your voice to sooth my fears. It must have been so hard to accomplish this. I thought you were everywhere with me."
"Inside of the Opera, I was. You made me challenge myself on several occasions but as a whole, it was just a game of hide and seek."
She looked suspiciously at me, not fully believing my words. Very soon however the lines on her forehead disappeared and she went on calmly. Our frustration must had been great back then, to misunderstand one another so. Yes, unfortunately.
"When I awoke... the first time, when I awoke after we met and you gave Etiene to them. That first time the feeling came back. I was so exhausted and hungry and yet, I felt … I felt like … like home. And with time despite my worries on my son and you and Raoul, it only grew, with your help."
"My help?"
She pressed my palm to her cheek fondly.
"Your kindness, your … hands on my body, your lips, your unfaltering embrace all night long. Those really helped a lot. And even more. I was thinking about this yesterday and... do you remember what was the first food you gave me?"
A quiet victory was shining in her eyes when I shook my head at her question.
"Peaches! Of all the different cans you had, you picked peaches – my most favorite. Without thinking twice you remembered as if I had never been away. You haven't forgotten even the smallest detail. Oh, Angel! Just the smell of them made me feel so much better. "
I sat there, deep in her insightful observations and allowed her to kiss my palm before leaning on me completely.
"Please, Angel! Let us have lessons again."
Silence...
"Tomorrow, Christine."
Silence...
"But you were right before."
Silence...
"Beg your pardon?"
Christine turned, and her foggy eyes told me, she had gone back in time much like myself.
"Before my father died, I dreamed of singing but never more. You and your reassurances made me wish for something more. You've seen it true, it was never my wish to sing on stage, I felt too small for this. You gave me greater dreams and made me believe I was worthy of more. It was you who build my confidence. Without you..."
She shook her head and gave me another look. Grateful, trustful, hopeful – and so many others in there. Calm and secure and...
In that moment, I understood the meaning behind her "home" and the revelation washed my own tension away.
She was going to stay.
"Oh, Christine. I only provided you with a mirror."
