CHAPTER 14 Atonement
Gustave pondered Lisa's words all of that night and the next day. By the time he took his place across from his father at tea time he'd made up his mind to address the issue. Mechanically, Gustave had inquired about the park status and his father had given routine answers before asking the boy about his studies, to which Gustave made the standard reply. They sat quietly for some time while the boy rallied his courage. It was a loud silence, the latest of many that had become the norm of their lives, especially in the months since Gustave had start going to the mansion. Finally he found enough nerve to start the difficult conversation with his father.
"Father, how have you been doing?" he asked.
"I'm fine, why do you ask?" responded his father, not bothering to look up from a pamphlet he was reading.
"Well... It seems you've been a bit… melancholy lately." the boy said in almost a whisper.
"I'm fine." Erik's senses were peaked. This wasn't the kind of conversation he expected.
"Why don't you come with me to visit Mrs. Aguilar? Maybe some time out will help you feel better. It seemed you enjoyed your time there before."
"They're your friends Gustave, not mine. It was an act solely for your benefit." Slowly Erik put down the paper and folded his hands on his lap, regarding his son with his full attention.
"But you don't have any friends. You wouldn't be so lonely if you had some too." said Gustave in a suddenly frustrated voice.
"I don't need friends. I have you and that's more than enough for Me." said the man, feeling the building of tension in the room between him and the child.
"But it's not enough and you're not happy with just me. Lisa says you don't want to try and you're going to take me down with the ship. I don't want either of us to go down with the ship. I don't want to lose you like I did the Vicomte." Gustave was trying his best to tell his father what he was feeling, but Erik heard something very different.
"The Vicomte, I am nothing like that wretch." Erik was losing the battle with his anger and annoyance with that woman. "That presumptuous harlot! How dare she fill your head with such dribble? Don't you see what she's doing; she's trying to turn you against me. She making her play and I will not stand for it. I knew it."
"No, this has nothing to do with her. She's just trying to help me."
"By telling you I was like the Vicomte, a drunken fool that neglected and resented you! Can't you see she's playing on your weaknesses, drawing you in by discrediting me? Well, it's not going to happen. I forbid you from ever seeing that witch again! I'll see her at the bottom of the east river before I let her influence you further!" Erik had a nearly manic look on his face as he spoke. Although the boy didn't know all the details of his father's past, he knew that it wasn't just an idle threat being made.
Both the thought of being separated from Lisa, Mrs. Aguilar and Kara or any harm coming to them made heated blood rush into Gustave's veins. He leaped from the chair, trembling with hurt and anger.
"Don't you dare harm any of them? I'll hate you forever if you hurt them, and you can't keep me from seeing them either. I can't go on living like this, without a mother or a father." Gustave regretted the words the moment they'd left his lips. His father fell back into his chair, the sudden rise of tears instantly spilling out of his shocked eyes.
They stared at each other for several long moments. Both had been cut deep by the exchange. Gustave had for the first time touched the anger within him and expressed the temper he'd inherited from his father. Gustave was trembling with fierceness of his outburst, but he almost instantly felt ashamed of what he'd said.
"I'm so sorry father, I didn't mean it. I love you, I just… "He tried to speak through barely restrained tears.
"No, I don't want to hear it. Get out." said the man in a broken whisper. Gustave tried to move around the table and reach out to him, but Erik stood quickly and moved away as if he feared being struck. "NO, GET OUT!" he yelled.
The boy looked into his father's eyes, but instead of seeing the pain there, he saw a look of cold annoyance and disdain, the same that had been commonplace when the Vicomte was his father. At that moment Gustave could no longer see beyond his own pain and became so enraged he stormed out of the room without another word. He ran to his room, slammed the door hard behind him and landed sprawling on his coverlet. His mind was a jumble of all the fear and sorrow he'd been fighting for over three years.
A part of him wanted to collapse into a ball, while another wanted to scream and rant, and yet another wanted to run to get away from all the things hurting him, and the memories. Gustave stared unseeing out of his window until the sky outside became black. He'd not turned on the light of his room. He wasn't sure what time it was when he was finally compelled to get up and act.
He could see the wind starting to whip through the trees next to the house. It didn't deter him in the least after having made up his mind. He packed only a few things; a change of clothes, a leather-bound portfolio of music sheets, and a few mementos of his mother. Making no more sound than a mouse, he left his room and the home he'd made with his father.
There was only one place he knew he could go, but by the time he'd reached his destination the skies had opened up to a torrential downpour. Gustave had to raise his hand as a shield against the fierce droplets when he gazed up to find the outline of the mansion beyond the locked gate. There were no lights on within, and the buzzer made no sound when he pressed it.
Believing he had no other option, Gustave secured his pack onto his back and began climbing the gate. His foot slipped several times before he made it to the top and swung his body over, but when he tried to find a hold for the descent his foot slipped on a curly cue of metal. He flailed wildly as he fell toward the concrete below and landed with a hard thud on the muddy ground.