Chapter XXVIII.
He slept for a long time again, for sure. He did not know how much, but as he lifted his head up from the pillows and looked around the room he saw the sun was already at set. They arrived home in the morning – seems like he slept for a whole day. There was someone sitting in the armchair next to the bed, he could see it was a male figure, but the room was very poorly lit, so he couldn't recognize his features. Only one candle was lit, at the end table, behind the shadowy figure, so his face wasn't getting any light.
- Mohammed, is that you? – He called out to make sure if it was really the Daroga or not.
- Yes, Erik, I am here. – The soothing assurance was coming right away.
- What in Allah's name are you doing in my bedroom? – Erik sat up in bed, examining if the covers were properly put over his body. Thankfully he was wearing sleepwear, but when and how did he change was beyond him.
- Watching you sleep.
- That must be a splendid sight, don't you have any more important tasks to do?
- Not at the moment. Everyone is resting.
- When did you come?
- Christine called me here the night when you fled underground with Mahtab so I could watch your son while she tried to hammer some common sense in your skull – head.
- Thank you. – He sighed. – Who would think you will spend so much time babysitting my children?
- And you.
- I am not in the need of babysitting, thanks. – He retorted angrily.
- Not anymore. You seem to talk in normal sentences now.
- Why, wasn't I? – Erik scratched his head in confusion. He noticed the bandage on the top of his head, and instantly remembered back to the huge hit on his head by the paddle.
- No. You would stutter about various happenings in your past and call for your mother or Christine for a day.
- Why?
- Fever. You were burning up.
- What on Earth had caused that?
- Swimming in that filthy lake and the open wound on your head. By the way poor little Moonlight was in a rough form as well, but she is now better.
- What has happened to Mahtab?
- She swallowed a bit of that water. That caused her stomach problems, the poor dear. And her eyes were a bit of infected. But as I say, now she is better, she ate some rice for dinner. She must be on a diet for some days.
- And what about me?
- The doctor took care of your wound and ceased your temperature, he said you may get up but be careful with mental and physical work for a week.
- Thank God. – He sighed in relief and wiped his forehead.
The coming week was so peaceful. He did not work too much, only was reading some books and resting on the couch most of the time. Shadow was a great stool for his legs, he kept them resting upon the dog's warm and furry back. Sometimes the animal would even lick his feet, which partly amused, partly annoyed him. Who would think he will once have a dog? Shadow was a loyal and friendly companion to him and his children. He also loved Christine, but he was always in Erik's heels. Shadow chose him as Master at the first sight, and would obey him. Erik wasn't in pain any more. His head bothered him from time to time, but other than that, he couldn't complain. On the contrary, he felt much spoiled. Mahtab was asked by both Christine and the Persian to let Papa rest, so he was mostly left alone, without the child's nearly constant nagging, but when someone took care of him, he was treated as a king or even better. Christine put pillows under his feet and back to make the couch more comfortable for him, and would press a gentle kiss on his forehead and face every time she passed him. Other times it would have bothered him to be so much spoiled, but for some reason, he did not mind it now. Secretly he even enjoyed it and craved for more. He became a bit needy and would ask favors of Christine so she would serve him and be kind to him. Not as she wasn't kind to him any other time – but it felt much better now.
Christine knew well that Erik wasn't in such a bad shape as he sometimes pretended to be in – but she was amused of what a good actor Erik was, and finally, she was able to love on him as much as she wanted. Erik accepted hugs, cuddling and kisses, and did not have any urgent work to do to walk away from her. Christine wanted to make up to Erik's self – hatred by giving him more love than before. She tried her best to show her love to Erik, but as he became so insecure over a badly – worded sentence, she knew he needed to feel more affection and love to be able to trust her.
Erik's "Birthday" was coming. It wasn't the 29th, but only the 28th, as 1890 wasn't a leap – year, and Christine would have to wait up until 1892 to celebrate Erik's official Birthday, which will be a round anniversary – he will be turning sixty. Christine, however, didn't want to wait two more years to be able to celebrate a Birthday. Erik had so many left out Birthdays during these decades, as, when he was a child, he did not even know his exact date of birth, and so it was never celebrated. He found out the date when his mother desperately sobbed "Only once in a leap – year can a woman give birth to such a monster- no wonder you were born then!" When he grew up, he didn't find the importance to keep track of his age, and no one, not even himself, found Birthdays important. There was no one to wish him a Happy Birthday – why the fuss? After he met and finally married Christine, he was more than happy to celebrate Christine's Birthday, which was on 20th August, in the middle of beautiful summertime, as he finally had someone to shower with gifts, and cook for. He still did not tell his birth date to Christine by himself, as he did not expect his to be celebrated in return. Only after the good and sweet girl asked him about it, he briefly told her he was born on 29th February. Christine at first thought he was just joking around, as she would not believe someone was able to be born on that particular day of the year, but after he reassured her, she accepted the fact. He still did not find it to be worthy of mentioning, but Christine was a stubborn little girl and if she wanted to do something – she did it. As she wanted to celebrate Erik's Birthday, they finally agreed in celebrating it every four years, when it actually shows up in the calendar.
But now, it wasn't enough for the wife. Erik deserved a Birthday in every year – just as anyone else. If it is not the 29th, let it be the 28th then, or the 1st of March – or why not both?
- Mahtab, dear! – Christine approached the small girl one day, when Erik was composing something, locked in his study. – Do you want to help Mama with a surprise?
- What kind of surprise? – She lifted her head up from her book in interest. – For whom?
- Papa. – Christine smiled warmly, and hugged Mahtab, whispering in her ear: - His Birthday is coming.
- Hooray! – Mahtab jumped up and down in excitement.
- Sssssh! You have to promise Mama that you won't say a single word to Papa about what we are doing, please promise, Mahtab.
- I promise. Not a word. – Mahtab nodded understanding, just as an adult.
- I need you to help me. Will you accompany me to some places? For example we are going to see Tonton Mohammed.
- All right! – Mahtab put on her jacket and tried her best to button it for herself, but the buttons and button holes kept tricking her – she always buttoned it the wrong way, and she wasn't able to tie her shoes either. Erik kept showing her the right way to do it, but she was unable to get the hang of it.
- Come, dear, I will help you. – Christine offered kindly, but Mahtab shook her head.
- No. I have to learn to do it myself. Papa said one time there will be no one to help me, but myself. I have to tie my shoes and cravat.
- There is no need for you to wear a cravat at all. – Christine tried to guide her daughter back on the normal way of getting dressed for a girl, but Mahtab did not seem to care about it.
- But yes, and I would like to get a watch.
- Watch?
- Yes, a pocket watch.
- Oh, Mahtab…
- I can tell the time. I am a big boy enough to carry a watch.
- Well, we will discuss it with Papa later. – She sighed.
Of course, women wore watches as well, but not a type of watch that Mahtab was referring to. It would be another twisted milestone for Mahtab to follow men's path – and that was something Christine loathed the thought of, more than anything. This was one of the reasons she wanted to speak to the Daroga as well – Erik did not seem to care much about this issue. He simply stated he loved Mahtab as a boy and a girl equally, so it was all the same to him.
As Mahtab was jumping around them in the Persian's living room, Christine carefully worded her fears to Mohammaed- Ismael. The good old man was thinking for some minutes, then looked at Mahtab, who clearly enjoyed herself, and nodded.
- Christine, I know it is a strange situation, but I would not do anything about it right now.
- But like this, even Erik's plan about raising Mahtab spiritually, is flawed
- Oh, do you mean that she should be raised by my religion?
- Yes, this was the original plan, wasn't it? How can we teach her to a woman's role when she keeps wearing men's clothing, acting like a boy?
- We have talked about this with Erik before, and I understand him. He told me he planned to do this if Mahtab grows up as an ordinary girl, and is interested by girly issues, like her clothes or more ladylike things. But she seems to dislike this, and to be honest, Erik is happy about it.
- Why? It fills me with worry.
- Christine, I know you would like to have a girl like anyone else, you would like to have a small princess. But you have to understand that Mahtab isn't that way, and it wasn't Erik who turned her like this. She was born this way, only that she is old enough now to see that herself, Erik is happy about it, because, as he said, with a face like hers, Mahtab could never lead a life like a woman should. An ugly man's life is torture. An ugly girl's life is a disaster. He said this.
- I see. So you say… I should accept Mahtab's choice and not bother her about it? Is there no hope for her to be an ordinary girl?
- Oh, Christine… you know well, just as I and Erik do, that Mahtab will never be an ordinary girl. If she was playing with dolls and dressed in the most girlish outfit, she still wouldn't be an ordinary girl. No, there is absolutely no hope for that. – The Daroga shook his head and pointed at the small child with a sad look.
Christine nodded, dried some tears out of her eyes, and asked no more questions.
Erik started to be suspicious. Christine again, was acting as she was keeping a secret. No matter how much he asked her, she would only smile at him and say nothing.
- Christine, I hope you didn't publish my work again. – He groaned at her suspiciously rolling his eyes.
- No. I accepted you don't want it. I just still don't understand, why.
- Because if I get commissions, I should do what, Christine?
- Well, maybe write what's asked…?
- That's something I can't do, Christine.
- Why? You are an incredibly talented composer.
- I can't work on pressure. I write what's on my mind and in my heart, but if I am asked to "write this and that, change this key to x major, remove this dance, and rewrite this act…" it is not for me, Christine, and I know I would terribly fail. Failure is something I had in my life enough already, there is no need for more. And besides, how should I go and conduct concerts?
- Why, you invented that mask, and you look like anybody else. I would say you look handsome if you wear it.
- Yes. And what if it slips off, or gets accidentally ripped off, what if my fake nose can't handle my sweat (conducting is a hard work for hours, especially if you have to wear a full evening suit…), what if it gets wet by heavy rain, what if, Heaven forbid, they want to take my photograph? Being a famous new composer, I sure would have to face that. If you look closely, you STILL can see it is not my real face. On the photographs, it would be even more noticeable. Oh, Christine, only God knows how much Erik would love to be a famous composer, celebrated by whole Paris. But… it can't come true. I know you wanted to make me happy and meant it well, but please, please Christine, don't act out of love the next time without asking me about it.
- I promise, Erik.
- Good. And NOW what is your little secret, eh?
- I don't know what are you talking about, Erik.
- You are acting strange. Christine… Erik asks you again, please answer truthfully: are you expecting a child?
- No! Why you keep asking, my Erik? Would you want to have a third one? – She placed a gentle kiss on Erik's forehead.
- God forbid, no! – He waved his hands in front of himself.
- You don't have to be afraid. – Christine sighed in disappointment.
She found it a bit of hurtful that Erik reacted this way about a new child. She always wanted a big family when she was a child. It was mainly because she was an only child, and she would so much appreciate a sibling many times. Maybe that's why she loved Raoul so much. He used to be some kind of brother figure for her. After her beloved Papa passed away, she wouldn't have been so lonely if she had a sister or brother to share her life with, and she could only hope that she will give birth to a lot of children if she gets married. She would have liked to have another baby, so she will have three children, but the way Erik said "God forbid, no!" she was sure it will be only a dream.
- How can you tell if a woman is with a child, or not, Daroga? – The sudden question surprised the Daroga as he was enjoying a good coffee on his Sunday visit at Erik's home. Christine left the room for some minutes, and Erik sent nervous glances towards the door as he leaned closer to softly ask this question that was bothering him.
- Well… she has some kind of symptoms… - The Persian replied. – You already have two children, Erik, how did Christine act when she was pregnant?
- She did tend to desire some kind of flavors more… she was sick in the stomach… she was sleepy…
- And?
- She isn't now. That is what bothers me the most. I cannot see any symptoms and yet I am still afraid she might be pregnant. She has some kind of secret, Erik knows she has.
- Erik, calm down… it isn't about that.
- About what? – Erik inquired. – Do you KNOW about her secret?
- No. – The Persian shook his head quickly, as he realized he had told too much, but Erik wasn't a stupid man.
- What is it, Daroga, out with it!
- No… I promised her that I won't say a word to you…
- About what? Is she pregnant?
- No.
- Then what is it? Tell Erik!
- Erik, stop!
- Tell Erik! – He jumped up from his armchair and grabbed the poor Daroga by his neck, when Christine arrived back in the room.
- Erik! – She screamed in horror as she saw Erik's skeletal hands around the Persian's neck, but he turned back with a casual look on his face, pretending that he only adjusted Mohammed's cravat, before sitting back in his chair.
- What's that my dear? – Erik asked as calm and polite as possible.
- Oh… nothing. – She sighed, thanking God in her mind that she stepped in the room just at the right time.
When the long – awaited day finally arrived, Christine woke Erik up with a kiss on the lips. She smiled at him when he opened his eyes sleepily, and wanted to turn to his other side, but his wife gently stroke his hair.
- Happy Birthday, my little husband. – She cooed.
- To you as well. – Erik yawned, just assuming, half – asleep that Christine wished him a good morning, but suddenly his eyes popped wide open. – What?
- Happy Birthday. Erik dearest! – She repeated, laughing.
- How…? But…
- I know, it isn't a year like that, but you DO have a Birthday, Erik, sweetie. I want to celebrate your Birthday, normally, in every year, as any other people do.
- You know Erik isn't like other people… - He smiled. – But he thanks you all the same for being such a good wife to him.
- I am so glad I am a good wife to you. That's all I have ever wanted to be.
- Erik couldn't ask for a better wife. – He kissed her gently on the forehead.
- And Christine couldn't ask for a better husband. And a better father to her children.
Erik's newly invented Birthday was one of the happiest and most peaceful days of his life. He received gifts from everyone, even the Daroga came to visit him, and gave him a present, he enjoyed a great meal, a fantastic wine and a cigar he loved, but the most precious gifts weren't these, and he had to admit, it wasn't even Christine's singing to him, or not even their intimate time spent together in bed, after they put the children to sleep that night. He received his best gift from Florian. When he picked his young son up, the beautiful little boy looked him in the eye, was babbling something on baby language for a few minutes, hugged his face from both sides with his small hands, then, totally audibly and understandably said:
- Hello, Papa!
These were his first words ever spoken to anyone. They were for Erik, accompanied by a wide smile. Erik wasn't able to say a single word as he heard his tiny son's voice for the first time. He closed his eyes as tears were blurring his vision – and suddenly he felt like being a father was beautiful because of these moments.
