"What is the matter?" Christine asked miserably
"Nothing at all," CJ controlled her laughter, "I wrote this book,"
"But…wait…how? And who is Christopher Johnson Eriksson?" Christine asked in a bewildered voice,
CJ stared at me, "I am beginning to see how you convinced her you were an angel," she muttered,
"What?" Christine asked, not having heard what CJ said,
"Nothing…I made up the name, it is not a real person," CJ explained, "I used my initials, C and J, and then his name," she pointed at me,
Christine sat for a moment, digesting all this new information. Finally she smiled and spoke, "All the girls think the this Christopher Eriksson is some handsome, dashing sailor hiding his brilliant mind behind bulging muscles; I would love to tell them that it is actually a woman,"
"Let's keep that as our little secret," CJ said quickly, "If anyone finds out I will never be able to publish another word,"
We were about to continue our conversation but there was a shriek and a blur which suddenly caught our attention,
"It that…?" Christine asked, as CJ and I move in a trance like state to the edge of the porch,
"Oh my God…" CJ murdered,
"I don't believe it…" I gaped,
Our daughter was galloping across the large green lawns of the de Chagny estate; laughing wildly with her long dark hair flying out behind her. Her steed was a might black horse which ran like the wind and was in much better health than the police horses she was used to. This was a pure bread stallion and my daughter was riding it across the lawns. I held my breath as she came to a fence and then when flying over it, laughing with delight as she cleared it and landed on the other side,
"My apologies! I tried to stop her!" the distraught butler came running toward us with a panicked look on his face, "I told her not to ride it!"
"Is that Henri's horse?" Christine asked,
"I am afraid so," the butler said glumly,
"Henri never road him of course," Christine explained to us, "Raoul bought him a year ago, but he was so wild no one had ever ridden him…well no one but…"
"BERNADETTE!" CJ screamed, "Get over here!"
She must have somehow heard her, because Bernadette curbed the wild horse and made it trot over to us. We left the porch to meet her,
"Isn't he marvelous?" Bernadette said, patting the neck of the stallion,
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" I yelled at her,
"Father," Bernadette stared at me, "I am not going to get hurt; the horse likes me," She smiled,
"Wonderful; the wild horse likes you, now get the hell off of it," I said, and I moved toward her, meaning to help her off the black stallion,
Being the spunky, sneaky girl that she was, Bernadette inched the horse backwards,
"Bernadette, get off that horse, it is not even yours," CJ said sternly,
"No one ever rides him!" Bernadette stated, "He wants exercise, and I don't think Henri would mind, would he?" She looked at Christine,
"I…well…no," she sputtered,
"Just let me ride him back to the stable," Bernadette pleaded, "You said that I could ride horses when we got here,"
"Yes, horses," I said, "Not wild animals,"
"Father," she begged, "Just to the stables,"
"Alright," I said, looking at CJ who was nodding reluctant agreement, "You can walk him back to the stables,"
Bernadette's face lit up, "Thank you," she said, and then she gave the look, the mischievous flash came into her eyes and for a brief moment she reminded me exactly of me; Bernadette dug her heals into the back horse and wheeled him around, setting off toward the stables at a gallop,
"That girl will be the death of me," CJ sighed, but I saw she was smiling,
We turned and went back toward the house; however as we did so I looked up at one of the high windows. Squinting in the sun I saw one of the curtains fall back into place as a form quickly retreated from the window. I had no doubt the Henri had seen all that had just happened.
Around one in the afternoon the sky clouded over and darkened, threatening rain. This was perfect for our purpose however. CJ and I spent the entire afternoon explaining concepts of metaphor, symbolism, and anything else which seemed relevant to Christine. It was strange, I realized; she had become my student again.
"So you see, the struggle against the ocean is a metaphor for the struggles against, life," CJ explained as we heard the first role of thunder rumble the afternoon sky,
"I can understand that," Christine said determinately as she thumbed through the pages of the book,
"I think we have done enough for today, we don't want to do too much all at once," I stated, merely thinking that if we did much more explaining of mundane literary techniques I would scream,
"Erik, ever the teacher," Christine said smiling at me, and then there was an awkward silence as everyone remembered the last time I had been her teacher,
It was amazing to think how far we had come since then; and as much as I would have like to believe that I had had something to do with my own transformation, that I had pulled myself up by the boot straps and gain the life I was currently living; but I did not believe that. I knew CJ had dragged me kicking and screaming into a place where I could try to be what she needed.
She was a good person, the best in my mind. One only had to know that she was sitting in a room teaching a woman she had despised how to act so as not to look like a fool to know CJ was a cut above the rest. And she was my wife.
I smiled at her,
"What?" She stared back at me,
"Nothing," I said, still smiling,
"What?" she insisted, "Do I have something on my face?"
"No," I laughed at her,
"What!" she looked around to make sure Bernadette was occupied with something else, "Remember, I can still beat the living hell out of you,"
I raised my eyebrows at her but still said nothing. She shook her head and swatted me, then went to find a mirror to check her face in.
"How do you do it?" Christine asked me when we were alone, "How many years have you been married?"
I thought for a moment, "Almost seventeen," I responded,
"And you still act as though you were newlyweds," She glanced down sadly at her hands in her lap, "I sometimes thought I had made a mistake," she whispered softly, "When Raoul started to…I thought back and I wondered if I had been wrong to leave you,"
I felt my heart beat quicken; not because she was saying what I wanted her to say, but because I felt panicked at what I no longer wanted to hear. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I felt like running out of the room,
"But I knew the first time I saw you two together in Paris; you did not know I was there, I saw you two in a store, picking out cloth for curtains. I will never forget it," She said with a small laugh, "She wanted green and you thought it looked hideous,"
I tried to remember the instance she was talking about, and tried not to think about the fact that she had been watching us with out our knowledge; which I guess was only fair after all the times I had spied on her,
"I thought you were going to get into a fight over it; because that would have been what would have happened between my and Raoul…but you laughed about it; you said the green looked like pond scum and she said she thought it suited you; then she kissed you, right there in the store, and you agreed to buy the green cloth,"
Now I remembered; indeed I had thought the cloth possessed a hue reminiscent of pond scum; but the green curtains still hung in our dinning room and as CJ had said, they looked fine. It was however, disturbing to me that she had remembered all this in such detail.
"Then I realized you two were meant to be together," She sighed; her eyes had become slightly bright and I did not know what to do to console her,
Brilliant as always in her timing, CJ returned at that moment,
"What did I miss?" CJ asked, sitting down beside me and resting her hand on my knee,
This simple show of affection was too much for Christine; who stood suddenly, muttering her excuses, and then quickly leaving the room,
Bernadette watched her go, lifting her eyes momentarily from her book,
"What was that all about?" she asked us,
"Nothing," I said, though now I was facing identical skeptical looks from both my wife and my daughter.
Dinner was delayed several hours that night due to the fact that the storm prevented the fop from returning home on time. I could not help but wonder if it really was the fault of the storm, or if that was just a convenient excuse.
When the fop finally did return to his home, dinner was served much as it had been the night before. We sat in the exact same spots, and Henri again joined us, making his fist appearance of the day.
"Well," The dandy tried to break the awkward silence at the table, "What went on here today?"
Neither I nor CJ made any attempt to respond. I watched Christine's eyes as she searched for something to say, then it came to her,
"Bernadette road Conqueror today," she offered, and I assumed that Conqueror was the name of the horse; it was a stupid name,
The fop looked stunned, "Really?" and he turned his head to my daughter; my hand involuntarily clenched into a fist as he looked at her,
"Yes, he is a marvelous horse," Bernadette replied and her eyes lit up, "He was a bit feisty at first, but then he was absolutely wonderful,"
"A bit feisty!" The fop laughed, "I should say so! I have had every trainer in France come and try to break him and they all failed miserably!" he shook his head, "I should hire you!"
"It really was nothing," Bernadette said modestly,
"Nothing!" the fop continued, "No one has been able to get near that thing since we bought him; why you should have seen what happened when Henri tried to ride him,"
At these words I saw Henri tense and close his eyes slightly, as if praying for his father not to continue. Unfortunately his prayer was not answered,
"He reared up on his hind legs and ended up breaking the stall we had him in; Henri ran out and has not been to the stables since," he finished his story with a laugh and then continued eating as though he had not just broken his son's heart,
I looked at Henri and saw he was looking down at his plate, but his face looked red and I saw his hand shake slightly as he played with his food with his fork,
Suddenly Henri looked up, "Father, may I be excused?" and he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice,
"No, we have not finished eating yet," He snapped, and Henri's face grew redder and his eyes became bright,
"Please Father, I am not feeling well," He begged, and this time his voice shook noticeably,
"You are fine, now finish-" He started, and then he was cut off,
"Actually, I was not going to mention it, but I am not feeling well either," Bernadette, ever perceptive, went along with the lie, and held her stomach,
"Nor am I," CJ stated, "It must have been something we ate,"
"Oh…well…" The fop began, but before he could go any further we all excused ourselves at once and ran from the table,
There was nothing left to do but go up to the rooms and feign illness, so he headed up the stairs. Before she entered her room I pulled Bernadette by the arm, "That was a very good thing you just did," I whispered to her, and she smiled and nodded back at me,
"I thought it would be best; see you later!" and she went into her room,
CJ stood by our door, "Are you coming?" she asked,
"Soon," I said, "I need to have a chat with someone first,"