Chapter XVIII.

Six months passed since Erik Florian's birth.

He was developing normally, he ate a lot and grew as a mushroom as Erik would jokingly say. Compared to his tiny and weak build as a newborn, he gained weight normally and in 2 months he weighed nearly the normal weight of a baby in his age. He was a beautiful little boy with his dark brown hair and huge blue eyes. His eyes reminded Erik of Christine, and Christine of her father. Papa had eyes like these. Clear blue as the ocean. His hair was the same shade as Erik's and Erik once remarked his mother had the same hair color as well. Even though Christine often told Erik the baby looked like her father, Erik found no resemblance with the child and the portrait Christine guarded on her nightstand in the bedroom, but even Christine admitted it wasn't a too much lifelike portrait, but it was the only one that left for her of her father. Christine asked Erik once if he could draw another one that resembles more to Papa, but Erik, even though he was excellent at drawing portraits, admitted that he can't really do it only by other people's descriptions, he should have seen Papa Daaé himself to do it. He made a very beautiful and detailed watercolor painting of Christine once, and she loved it so much that she asked Erik to hang it in the drawing room so she can see it often.

The parents were a bit of worried at first that Mahtab was going to be jealous of the newborn, but to their pleasant surprise, the girl adored her little brother from the beginning. She climbed up to the cradle to watch his face and pet him, and she called him "Baby Flo" or simply "Flo" for the nickname of Florian, so the name got stuck on the baby quickly. The family was nearly constantly together. Both of the parents equally took their parts in taking care of Flo and Mahtab so that neither of them feels neglected. Mahtab was more comfortable following her father though, as always. They told a bedtime story to both of the children at the very same time, and both of them kissed both children good night, so they were treated equally.

But Erik felt guilt sometimes, even like this. He felt guilty for not being a loving father to Mahtab since the very first moment of her birth and he needed months to get used to her presence in the house, and nothing like the aforementioned issues did happen with his son and him. He could show affection and love from the very first day to his son – he kissed him, he petted his tiny face and forehead and he would admire those perfect baby features his son had. He caught himself lifting Flo out of the cradle many times to play with and talk nonsense to. It was something he did not really do to Mahtab when she was a baby. To hide his shame about this, he tried to make Christine stop babbling to the baby boy and playfully scold her for it:

- I told you Christine, that this "da da da ay-yay" isn't worthy of anything, you should teach the young human being to something more useful.

Christine just smiled and shook her head fondly, then continued on with her cooing. One time when she stepped in the room and Erik was holding the boy to his chest, cooing to him the same way she did, she nearly burst out in laughter, but Erik suddenly sensed her presence in the room, so he quickly changed the subject:

- So, to resume again, my boy: "Any object, wholly or partially immersed in a fluid, is buoyed up by a force equal to the weight of the fluid displaced by the object." You'd better remember that as we are going to observe more experiments upon this subject soon. Tomorrow I am going to teach you about gravity acceleration.

- Oh Erik… - she whispered in front of herself, chuckling, then left the room just to hear Erik started his baby language again.

However well Mahtab was handling the situation of the arrival of her baby brother, she took up weird habits that couldn't be explained by Christine. She was trying to grow Mahtab's hair to the level that could be braided, but she did not let it. If her hair reached shoulder length, she was whining for a haircut.

- But dear, a girl has long hair. Look at me. Don't you want a hair like Mama?

- No. – She shook her head. – Long hair bothers me.

- But it is unladylike to wear your hair so short, Mahtab sweetie. Let it fall down to your shoulders at least, please. Mama will put a nice ribbon in it and you will look so cute. Please.

- No, I want it short.

- Papa wears it even longer than you, dear and he is a man.

- I don't care, I hate long hair and I am not wearing it.

Christine did not have any other choice than cutting Mahtab's hair again up until the point it only covered her ears. That was the length she tolerated without whining. This would have been the smaller problem, but one day Mahtab stood in front of her and asked for pants.

- Excuse me, sweetie… what do you need? – Christine picked up Mahtab from the ground and looked at her worriedly.

- Pants. Like boys wear.

- Why do you need pants, you are a girl!

- I don't want to be a girl. I am a boy.

- No, you are not…

- Yes I am, I will ask Papa to make me a boy. I want to learn how to be a boy, and boys wear pants.

- Why do you want to be a boy? – Christine placed the child on the sofa and put her hand on her forehead to check if she was feverish.

- Just because it is fun.

- Why do you think it is fun?

- Because boys can do everything. They can ride horse, they can do swordfights, they can get what they want and sing.

- Girls… also can sing Mahtab.

- Better arias are for boys. Girls are just screaming, boys sing the better melodies.

- Oh my God, sweetie, and only because of this…?

- No. But Papa can do a lot of things you cannot. He can fix everything. He is a hero. I want to be like Papa. I want to be a boy.

- But you can be like Papa without being a boy, dear.

- No, I can't because in the stories girls only can wait for the boy to save them, and should do nothing.

Christine found out that Mahtab wasn't an ordinary small girl. She knew a lot more things than she should, and Christine started to think she spends too much time with Erik, maybe that is the problem. But they love each other so much… maybe Erik will tell her about how these things work.

Erik did not really react the way Christine expected him to do on this subject.

- Then give her a pair of pants, Christine.

- But… she is a girl.

- She is yet a child, Christine, we don't really take her anywhere, so people won't say it is not right. She will grow it out, it is a temporary stage in her life. Many children get through a similar thing, but people don't talk about it. And even if she chooses she was more comfortable wearing pants at home… who am I to tell her not to?

- But why does she talk about swordfights? Where did she get the idea from?

- Where, my dear? Where else, but from the operas you keep showing her? I told you she was yet too young for Carmen, for example. But you know better always, Erik is talking to you and it reaches your nice little ear and slips out on the other.

- Do you think so…?

- I know so. –He nodded. – Anyway I see nothing wrong with Mahtab wearing pants for a time, and wanting to learn things I can do.

- She wants to fix things… would you give her a screwdriver, for example, Erik?

- Why not? I will teach her how to use it and of course I will take care of her not doing any harm to herself or others with it.

- Erik a small girl should have absolutely nothing to do with a screwdriver! Papa did not teach me these things and I am fine without them.

- You are, Christine, because you have someone who does it for you if things need to be repaired. But… I am actually happy that Mahtab wants to learn these things. With her looks, Christine… - Erik paused for some moments, turning away slightly and Christine could have sworn he dried his eyes with a handkerchief. – with her looks she should be prepared of… living on her own.. alone after we are gone. A woman living alone should know how to repair things and use tools usually a man does.

- You are turning Mahtab to a tomboy and we will end up having two sons… - Christine sighed.

- You don't seem to understand what I say, Christine. – Erik gave a little irritated sigh and walked out of the room.

Christine felt it wasn't any use of arguing either with Erik or Mahtab about the subject, so Mahtab got a new wardrobe the next week. She got fashionable boy clothes, her favorite outfit was a navy blue sailor- coat with shorts of the same color. She got a knee- length pair of white socks and a pair of dark blue shoes. Her silky dark blonde hair was combed following the latest fashion of small boy's hair-do. Erik did not mind the change. Mahtab was equally dear to him in girl or boy outfit, and as she was following him around still, he did not even feel the difference. They spent time together just as much time as earlier, the only thing that changed was how they spent that time. Instead of Mahtab following him around and just asking him endless questions, she wanted to productively help. This, of course, was at first more like causing him trouble and just gining him more things to fix, but he still did not mind it. She was actually very handy little child, she was talented in handling tools, Erik would say she even was better at repairing things and understanding mechanical structures than playing the piano. "This child really should have been born as a boy." – he thought to himself sometimes. Maybe Mahtab DOES feel this way with a good reason?

Christine was just patiently waiting for Mahtab's episode of life to be finally over and she will get her baby daughter back whom she can dress nicely and teach about girlish things to do, as she was supposed to. She tried to teach her to do embroidery or sew, but she wasn't interested in these fields at all. With a yawn she jumped off of the sofa and walked away to search for Papa who will sure show her how to dissemble and reassemble a pocket watch. Gears, springs, screws, nails and tools were the only thing that interested her besides music. She was really turning out to be a small version of Erik – and it sometimes scared Christine. Not only Mahtab resembles her father by devil's face, but it seems like she inherited his crazy inventor mind as well? That was a really dangerous thought and she did not even dare to guess what will happen to Mahtab if she goes on this path. But at the same time, they seemed to be so happy together that she did not have the heart to tell Erik to stop it and she did not think he would have listened. They spent hours together, Erik explaining clockworks, counterweights, and many more things Christine could not even understand to the child. Her mind was rapidly skyrocketing, and the problem was that her old toys weren't enough anymore to occupy her mind. Stupid teddy bear, ragdoll, wooden blocks… she wanted something more interesting to play with. Erik, of course, knew how she felt as he went through the exact same phase during his childhood, but the difference was his mother did not care about it. But he did not want to make the same mistake with his own child, might it be a boy or girl.

- Erik, I am afraid Mahtab is too young yet to learn such things.

- It doesn't seem to give her any trouble. She likes to learn things from me.

- But you teach her totally the other way around then you should. She doesn't even know the alphabet yet, and you teach her about clockworks.

- She doesn't need the alphabet to know mechanical structures. By the way we are going to learn the alphabet soon.

- What do you mean of "we"?

- Well, Mahtab and I, Christine, your husband, Erik. Who else should I mean?

- Do you want to teach her to write? – She asked with surprise.

- Why, yes. Well, I know what you mean, I have quite a nasty penmanship myself, and this, to be honest, worries me a bit, yes. But we will figure it out somehow.

- I thought she will learn to write at school.

- School? – Erik wheezed nervously as a cat.

- Don't you want her to learn at best primary school of Paris? – Christine scratched her head.

- Do you know what you just asked, Christine? How on Earth could Mahtab attend public school? Can't you see it is impossible?

- It was impossible for you with a mother who did not love you, but we cover her face and…

- And what, Christine? We cover her face only to make it possible for her to leave the house without people doing nasty things to her. But to go to school, day by day with a bunch of other kids isn't Mahtab's future, I fear. And believe me, it is better like this.

- You cannot separate her from the world forever…

- It is not Erik who separates her, Christine. People separate her from themselves. If they accepted us, monsters, as we are, I would be more than happy to send her to school every morning, to wave to her as she jumps down the stairs of the porch with her alphabet book under her arms- but as I know what would wait for her outside, I would rather die than let her among other children.

- I am sure there is a way to…

- You clearly still don't understand. – Erik shook his head.

The next moment the drawing room's door flung wide open and Mahtab ran through it towards Erik, with a small paper in her hand.

- Look, Papa, I drew a toy I would like to have. I know how it should work but don't know what to do to make it come true. Do you help me?

- Of course, dear… let me see it… - Erik caught the paper and examined it. – Do you want a toy train? You already have one, dear, why would you want another?

- But it is not an ordinary train. It can move and whistle.

- Oh. Whistle? – Erik knelt down to her with growing interest.

- Yes, playing music.

- A train that plays music… ?

- And it moves around.

- Interesting! I am sure we can work it out. – Erik smiled, patting the child's shoulder. – All right, I have something in my mind already. Come, my dear child, to the study, we will figure it out and I will explain to you about how music boxes and organs work. Do you want to know that?

- Of course! – The girl jumped up and down in excitement by Erik's side as they left the room together.

He next days were spent planning out Mahtab's new toy. As Christine heard, Erik and Mahtab were talking about it will be powered by electricity and should have a small organ pipe series built in along with an electrical windbag that is also powered by electrical engine, and Erik even said it will be able to play multiple songs, but she had no idea how Erik imagines it to work. No one saw such a thing yet… for example how on Earth does he chose the melody the mini organ would play?

- But it is the most simple part of the project my Christine. – Erik laughed when she asked the question that made her think the whole day.

- Would you mind explaining then?

- Well, the method is the same they would use with a mechanical organ, but I don't think we should use wax rolls with a child's toy. I think I am going to design small disks that are put to the structure on the upper part of the locomotive and that is how it can be turned around so that the mini organ plays music, just as a music box would. And you can change the mini disk any time, to change the melody it plays.

- Erik, this is a lot of work, isn't it?

- It will take us a while, yes, but don't worry dear, Mahtab loves the process. Even inventing the machine gives her so much joy, I never saw her so happy before. I think, tomorrow we are going to start working on the thing.

They could not though. As Erik opened his eyes when he woke up in the middle of the night, he felt unbearable level of earache and sore throat. He had difficulty with swallowing and he felt rather lousy. A sigh left his lips, but he instantly regretted this act of displeasure as his throat felt like a needle was thorn to it by full force. He moaned in pain and turned to his other side in bed, and this tossing woke Christine up as well. As Erik moaned again, she felt something wasn't right.

- Erik, are you feeling well? – She called out nervously, leaning closer to her husband.

- No. – Erik answered honestly, he was too sick to deny it. And by the way, it wasn't easy to deny an illness when he was barely able to speak. This one word made him a lot effort to say.

- What is wrong? – Christine sat up in horror. She already imagined Erik to be as sick as he was some years ago, again.

- My throat. – Erik whispered as he could only talk softly without extreme pain.

- Again? – Christine asked with a mix of compassion, surprise and relief. Yes, Erik had much trouble with his throat lately. In the past three months or so, Erik got throat infections nearly all the time, and he seemed to handle them worse and worse. Erik didn't reply, he closed his eyes, but they reopened in a second. – Erik, do you want me to call the doctor for you?

- Morning. – Erik clenched his throat, struggling to tell this one word, informing Christine that it could wait until morning.

- Do you need anything to ease your pain, dear?

- No. – He wheezed. – Just… don't… make… Erik… speak.

Christine couldn't wait for it to be morning as Erik was suffering so badly it was a pain to watch, and she wanted the doctor to help him as soon as possible. With a very hectic morning with the two children and the Daroga involved, Doctor Bonsanté finally arrived. He disappeared in the bedroom with Erik and stayed for some minutes. Christine was worriedly praying, and the Daroga looked like he did the same, just by his own religion.

When the doctor finally left the bedroom, he gestured Christine to follow him to the drawing room where they could talk in peace. Christine followed him with trembling legs as she knew it wasn't a good sign. If the doctor found nothing too serious, he just told Erik himself in the bedroom what to do, and just told Christine a quick diagnose and left. If he wanted to talk more detailed about the problem, it meant Erik was seriously ill again.

- What is the matter? – She whispered worriedly. – Will he survive?

- Of course, he will. – The doctor nodded. – It isn't too serious, Erik has tonsillitis.

- Again? – She inquired.

- Yes, and exactly that's what I wish to talk about. Erik is starting to get tonsillitis way too often for my taste. There are times when he is all right but his tonsils are nearly all the time infected now. I have been trying to talk to him about getting them removed for several years… well, maybe decades. But he never listens to me and he thinks it is just the way it should be.

- So you say he needs an operation? – Christine gasped in horror, covering her mouth.

- I do believe it would help him, yes.

- But isn't it risky? Maybe Erik chooses not to have a surgery for a reason, doctor.

- As every medical treatment, it has risks, of course, and Erik is a special case due to lack of nose. But it is a bigger risk to leave things as they are now, I think.

- Why?

- Do you remember Erik's last serious illness?

- How could I forget…? – Christine closed her eyes sadly.

- Well, I don't want to scare you, but it can happen again. Anytime. Do you remember I told you to take care that Erik does not get too much infection in his throat?

- Yes, doctor.

- Rheumatic fever and tonsillitis are both caused by the same kind of bacteria. If Erik has his tonsils infected all the time it is way harder to prevent rheumatic fever to develop, and this time, we might not be as lucky as we were the last time it happened. Erik is getting older and older, his system is less likely to fight with such an aggressive inflammation and it can attack his heart anytime.

- I see what you mean.

- So, I ask you to convince Erik to have tonsillectomy performed. I have a very good friend and colleague who knows everything about this new method of surgery and I can recommend him with all my heart and medical knowledge. We shall wait until Erik is cured of this illness he has right now as tonsils are not allowed to be removed when infected as they would cause infection to spread through his whole body. Until he gets better, please convince but don't force him to the decision. You are his wife, you sure know him enough to know what to tell him that makes him finally agree.

- I will try my best. – Christine nodded and wiped her eyes of tears that started to form.