Sorry this took so long, personal issues.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Erik or Christine. They are the wonderful creation of Mr. Leroux – but ALW gave them depth and humanity – as did Kay. I do not own any lyrics that are used; they will be credited at the end of the chapter in which they appear.
I do however; own the plot and any original characters, which appear from the dark caverns of my mind.
Character portraits:
Erik – Gerard Butler (There is no other – not for me!)
Christine - Scarlett Johansson (with violet eyes, and a little more of a mature look)
Meckenzie -Emma Karwandy (from Butterfly on a Wheel)
Vince - Pierce Brosnan (slightly shorter)
Karen -Bette Midler (only about ten year's younger, seven inches taller, and long, brown hair)
Ms. Jennison-Samantha Bond (Miss Moneypenny from the latest Bond movies)
Mr. Lynch - Bruce Davison (Senator Kelly from the first X-Men movie)
All other original characters, you can use your imagination.
Enjoy.
CHAPTER 10
For Christine, the weekend couldn't end fast enough. She did happen to find a church not far from her new apartment, which filled her spiritual needs. Her daddy would have enjoyed it very much, so she knew she was on the right track.
She and Meckenzie enjoyed Sunday afternoon in the park. The day was about 72°, and no clouds in sight. She had made some bologna sandwiches, and they spent the afternoon enjoying the sun on their faces and listening to the sounds of summer.
Fall was just around the corner, and school was going to start on Monday; as did her new job. She was certainly very excited about it, but also very nervous.
Labor Day weekend was wrecking havoc with the park…Christine had never seen so many people. Meckenzie was swinging on the swings while Christine sat on the park bench watching her; a group of children congregated on the playground, digging in the sandbox.
There were no outward signs that Meckenzie was blind, so Christine did not hesitate to allow her to quietly swing while the other children played around her.
That is, until one of the children, a boy of about eight, headed toward her. He planted himself in front of her swinging form, thinking she would see him, and did not care that she would run into him should she not see him; anyone, with normal eyesight, would see him.
Needless to say, Meckenzie did not see him and his screams alerted his mother to his side. She rushed to him, trying to stop the blood that was pouring from his nose.
Once she had calmed him down, she walked up to Christine, who stood beside Meckenzie, and reprimanded her.
"What is wrong with your daughter?" The woman yelled, "She could have broken Scotty's nose!"
Christine was almost in tears, knowing that Meckenzie felt awful about what had happened. The woman was angry, with every right to be, but Christine was not happy with the woman's tone of voice; after all, her son had planted himself in the line of fire, so to speak.
"What is wrong with your son, that he would stand in front of a swinging child, and expect to not be hit?" Christine spat.
The woman was flabbergasted that Christine would dare to talk back to her, "Anyone could see that he was there, she could have stopped!" The woman yelled.
"Well, there is the problem, Meckenzie can't see." Christine yelled back.
The woman was dumbstruck. She looked over at Meckenzie, and for the first time, noticed that she was not focusing on anything. Being a nurse, the woman noticed the signs of blindness, and cringed.
She was not willing, nor big enough, to issue an apology, so she just made Christine out to be the bad person, "She shouldn't play here with the normal kids…find her someplace else to play."
She marched over to her son, yanked him to his feet, and pulled him past Meckenzie toward their vehicle.
"Freak." The boy spat, as he past Meckenzie.
Meckenzie had never been exposed to such blatant prejudice before. Her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled. Christine wrapped her in her arms and held her while she cried. Sometimes, with all her intelligence and gifts, it was easy to forget that she was still a five-year-old little girl who needed her mother.
Another woman, who had watched the whole exchange, came over and placed a reassuring hand on Christine's shoulder.
"Don't mind her, she is an embittered woman who refuses to move past her divorce and get on with her life." The woman cajoled.
Christine smiled over at the woman and thanked her, but she knew she would not bring Meckenzie back to this park; at least not any time soon.
They went to McDonald's; and laughed, and joked about many things, but Christine knew that her daughter would never forget what had just occurred in the park.
"Why, mommy?" Meckenzie finally asked, as she finished her French fries. "Why are some people so cruel to those who are different from them?"
Christine had known it was coming, but she wasn't sure how to answer. She closed her eyes and said a short prayer for the right words.
"All I can say, Meckenzie…is that they are narrow minded, self-centered people who are afraid to face the ugly truth about living in this world." Christine stated. "There are those who are different – whether it be blindness, deafness, missing a limb, mentally challenged, or deformity – people, often the innocent, suffer because of the sin in the world…and there are those who don't want to be faced with that."
She watched as Meckenzie took in every word, "The truth is, Meckenzie, people who are different are stronger, better adjusted; and often, the most gifted people in the world…they can see and hear God better than those who have no such challenges…most of the time."
Meckenzie loved that answer, and the rest of the afternoon was spent with a smile on her face. She was special because God had made her that way…and He knew what He was doing.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"School starts tomorrow Meckenzie…are you ready?" Christine asked, as she tucked her daughter into bed, after reading her a story.
"Yep, you know it." The child responded with a perky tone.
Christine kissed her on the forehead, listened to her say her prayers, and left the room. She left the door cracked, a habit left over from when Meckenzie was a baby and had colic and other problems; Christine had been just feet from her door and would respond to her slightest wimper in a matter of seconds.
She ran a hot bath and enjoyed the luxury of just relaxing for an hour or so. She thought about her knew friends, Karen and Vince – still a bit rattled by the idea of him being the owner of that voice, but determined to put it behind her.
She hummed quietly to herself, said her evening prayers while enjoying the quiet solitude of the bath, and then crawled into bed – ready to bounce out of bed at 5:30 the next morning.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The first two weeks of school past in a blaze; Christine was learning her position quickly, and enjoyed everyone she worked with and for. The school was elite; therefore, there were only one hundred and fifty students from around the nation enrolled.
Meckenzie could not stop talking about her classes. She excelled at math and English, but also enjoyed History and Science. She was a well-rounded student, and her teachers could not rave about her enough.
"I start music lessons on Monday, mommy." Meckenzie announced at the dinner table.
Christine smiled, knowing that Meckenzie had been waiting to get started on her music. She would be taking voice and piano from Mr. Trudeau himself, as he had requested her after hearing her audition.
"They say he is a strict but fair instructor…and I can't wait to meet him." Meckenzie said. "He is supposed to be the best in the country….from what I hear."
Christine had heard the same thing, and wondered where this man was when she needed a voice instructor a few years ago. She was going to have to make it a point of meeting Mr. Trudeau, even if he wasn't to keen on interacting with others; especially if they were able to see him.
She found that to be a curious phenomenon. This man was supposedly seriously disfigured, reclusive, and unsociable – and yet, he managed to train the best voices in the world, and composed some of the most beautiful music that had been written in the last one hundred years.
The people she worked with could not stop talking about his generosity and his genius – and yet, few of them had actually meant him. He spoke with them through letters, and the occasional phone call; his lessons were private, and parents were encouraged not to interrupt them.
The lessons were recorded on tape and monitored by the security department for the safety of all involved. Mr. Trudeau insisted on it for his reputation and the reputation of the school.
She had not managed to learn very much about the man himself. She did not care that he was disfigured, but she did want to know about the music he wrote and she wanted to know why he felt the need to hide.
Who was this man? Christine knew her curious nature was often a turn-off for many people, but she couldn't help it – it was how she was made. She would give it a couple of days, and then she would find this man and introduce herself.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Of course, her efforts were to be thwarted by the very object of her interest. Erik was doing everything within his might to avoid her, not that it was hard, he avoided everyone; but his instincts told him that this particular woman was going to be a problem for him – he just had not idea how.
The first couple of weeks of school were spent hearing auditions and determining which students he desired to instruct personally and those he would assign to another instructor. He only chose ten students to teach in any given year, it was all he felt he had time for.
His expertise in the field of psychology had awarded him several published books, which he penned under the pseudonym, Dr. Thane Darby. His books were used throughout the country in universities and colleges to teach students wishing to pursue careers in psychology or mental therapy.
Erik thought it rather ironic that he was so gifted at helping others through the crises that plagued their lives, but he could not fulfill his own desires; the desire to love and be loved.
'I've only seen love from one side…and it was a very lonely view.' Erik thought as he headed home one evening. 'This is your life, Erik…get used to it. Don't desire what you can't have, you knowthe road that takes you down.'
A lonely tear crept down his cheek as he thought about the love his parents had shown each other and faced the morbid reality that he may never experience that love. The intelligent part of him knew that there was probably someone out there willing to accept him with all his faults; but the emotional side of him doubted the hope that dared flare in his bludgeoned heart.
TBC