A/N- He needs some peace and there are never enough good stories to justify EC with a bit of a twist in the process. I shall try to make it exciting, we shall see. With high hopes I shall submit for your approval,
Chapter 2
Considerations and choices
As the door was answered, I felt a cold hand grip around my heart. Hadn't fate already done enough to me? I left my cloak over my defeated frame, thinking, why am I here?
Even as I entered the doors, I felt fear at the idea there was someone here to reckon with. It was disconcerting. I preferred to believe that religion was just a way people had to comfort them when they made bad choices. Now I was yet again faced with the possibility of all that religion could be, after an adulthood of defying it, believing myself condemned already for my choices.
"Monsieur, may I help you?" The monk asked softly upon motioning for and waiting for me to enter, shutting the door from the darkness and chill night air. Shutting the door on all I had grown used to embracing until this night, when I let my past go. I wondered what he would say when I let my cloak hood go down and he saw the gleaming white mask. Perchance the legend of the Phantom of the Opera had spread to this lonely monastery on the outskirts of Paris? I would soon find out.
Removing my cloak from about my head, I watched carefully to see his reaction. When he showed no visible sign of noticing my mask, I shrugged my shoulders and set about removing the rest of the cloak. He took it, motioning to the chair that lay ahead in the foyer of the monastery. It was a damp and dank smelling place, surprising for something above ground to smell so pungent. I felt home already. I also noted there was no unnecessary candle usage. The dim light was welcomed by my swollen eyes. Fewer questions this way. The nagging feeling that I was out of place to a severe degree plagued me so deeply that I found it hard to look this man in the face. Finally, succumbing to the need to retain my dignity, I did, however, find the strength to look this concerned soul in the eye. What I saw when I looked it those eyes surprised me. It seemed that he was peaceful. I so wanted peace; I had never known it and thought perhaps it was a myth. I decided there and then that this was what I needed, even if I didn't believe, per se, that to be able to obtain peace at last was worth the God I must get past to do so. I looked heavenward and said a silent thank you, out of respect for the beliefs held by these peaceful souls. Maybe there would have to be a rethinking about my place in this universe. Hmm. What is next in this ride You have in store for Your distorted creation, if indeed You had a hand in creating me?
After properly dispensing with my cloak, he returned to me extending his right hand warmly. We shook hands and he announced his name, Brother James; he hesitated, giving me the opportunity to reciprocate. When I said nothing and did not appear willing to change my mind on this matter he continued; "Good Monsieur, this way, we have a room with a simple bed, candle and a chair. I fear that the only clothing we can offer for a change after you clean up will be a monk's humble robe. We live simply here, however we are willing to allow you a place to stay as you appear to be lost and look as if you have traveled a great distance. I saw no horse, are you also on foot?"
I was taken aback by his deductions in so short a time, it seemed that perhaps this was a place I would not want to linger in, if they could construe such things so easily without words. As I gazed around for the first time, thinking about what he had just said, I happened to notice that there were no real frivolities at all in this simple place; it was so meager and sparse that it made my lair appear a mansion with lavish furnishings in comparison. This was wholly new to me and was the closest thing to someone who had less than me that I ever had encountered. Yet this man was somehow at peace. Really, it was a quandary, setting my imagination in motion. Maybe this was the only way I could survive and proceed in life without Christine. For the first time in, God, I knew not how long, I thought that maybe I was still alive and had a purpose yet.
"Yes, I am grateful for your generosity. I shall take you up on the place to stay for now. I know not how long, if my presence becomes too much for you, please inform me." Feeling the need to ensure them they would not be supporting me thus, I also wanted to be assured they would not betray me nor turn me out in my stead. Realizing the very real possibility of that happening, there was desperation in my voice when I continued; "I have money, I shall pay you, let me know what you need, I shall pay it."
"We shall talk of terms when all are present, however, the hour grows late here, I shall get you a snack of hardtack and cheese, a glass of wine from our vineyard as we are quite self sufficient from even the church with the proceeds from our wonderful vines." Pausing for a moment to let me realize what he was trying to say, he began again; "Alright then, I shall take you to your room for the evening, you can sup there and we shall gather the remnants at breakfast. Naturally the introductions and a proper tour of our monastery and vineyard will wait till morning as well. Now if you will follow me, please. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name before, Monsieur."
"That's because I have not given it yet." I replied sternly, leaving it at that. Feeling a bit miffed that he as much as told me they were not interested in money for my room and board, I was under no inclination to share information with my new 'friend', or anyone else this early in the game. Information on my part would have to be earned. There were no free rides with my life anymore, I had to have time and space to heal. Whatever future I had left depended upon this fact.
Brother James began to walk forward from the foyer, into a large cavernous room which held books wherever one gazed, there was a large sparse fireplace and several wooden ladder-back chairs scattered about the stone floor. There were white fur rugs strewn in front of most of the chairs, and there was one couch setting in the middle of this confusion. There were small tables by each chair, as well, with a candle in a candlestick by each. This was undoubtedly the reading room and library, with as much simplicity as the monks could muster. The fireplace had logs stacked on either side of it, up to waist height. It was quite a marvel, how they could stack them that high and not have them fall the first time they touched them to get a fire going. The fire was merely embers, and as Brother James passed, he tossed two logs on the fire to keep the room from becoming too chilled. I took this opportunity to look around further in this room. My eyes froze in the far corner; I suddenly knew how I was going to heal here.
"Brother James, does anyone use that?"
"Not recently, our resident musician was transferred back to Italy, his mother grew ill and he had to be closer to her to tend to her illness. Why, do you play?"
Smiling slightly I replied "Yes, I have had some experience with the pipe organ. I would be greatly honored to give your organ some exercise, as a magnificent creature such as this should not be left to grow neglected in a corner of your library. It begs to be paid attention, monsieur, and I would consider it an honor and a privilege to lavish that upon her." I colored at calling the pipe organ a her, that was grossly inappropriate to say in a monastery. I groaned inside, wanting to run with the embarrassment of such an intimacy with someone like Brother James. He merely shook his head and smirked, walking slowly forward.
"It sounds like you have more than a passing fancy for this instrument. I will be anxious to hear what you can do with 'her' tomorrow. Now, if you will please follow me, Monsieur, to your room."
We found my room at the end of the hall straight off to the left of the organ. He was careful to keep me close to the organ, most likely knowing that he had hooked me with that simple act of consideration. It was like giving me a room right next to Christine when I was in a foreign place for the first time. I was home, for she was near. The only problem was that the organ was not Christine. Brother James had left after imparting simple further instructions; I was finally able to have a quiet moment to fully realize several things for the first time that day.
First was that Christine did leave with Raoul last night, when I pushed her feelings to the final threshold and snapped her from my grasp forever. Second was that the Opera Populaire was no more; I had destroyed that mistress of my creation, as well. Third was that I had murdered people in the process, with no idea how many, but the damage was devastating even as it unfolded last evening. The Gendarmes were surely looking for me now. I had no choice but to stay here. It was no longer safe for me to be out in the society that wanted nothing to do with me anyway. I began to weep and, finding the weight of my smudged mask to be too much for my distorted skin, I removed it. Walking to the basin and pitcher in my room, I washed my face and the tears fell freely. It was too much. Then I sat on the small bed, almost too small for my long frame, and did something I had not done for longer than I cared to recollect. I prayed.
"God, I don't know what kind of redemption you have cleverly devised for me in this place. All I ask is that you please—please!—let the agony of Christine's leaving to fade to a manageable level. I cannot survive if you do not." With that, I lay on the bed, feeling the weight of my anger build once more. "This is so damned sick, placing me here," I sneered. "I don't get it, why would you be doing this to me? Can you see this? With amativeness, I'm imagining Christine in a million libidinous positions, lewd beneath me, around me, devouring and being devoured by me, and now you are trying to save this soul from the hell I gladly sunk to with Christine on my loins, in my fantasies, in my bed, in my head. What do you want from me! I am a man who loved with my heart and soul, and now You have taken her from me and cut my life off from all of her beauty and essence. I don't know how to go on. God, I don't know how to breathe or live without my Christine in my life. Now, You throw me in a place with men who have never longed as I, they shall not know where the passion comes from in my music when I begin to play for them. They shall know that I am broken, what shall I do then? Tell them of my lustful intentions and the death and destruction that they caused? I assure You, God, You don't want me to unleash upon these chaste men those libidinous, intimate details of Christine which I have conjured up to amuse myself; it would surely be their downfall if I did."
At that, I closed my swollen, tear-stained eyes and laughed with all the strength I could yet call forth. The irony in this situation was absurd and I hated it, for no more reason then that I could not control it at that moment. I had control of everything in my life, up until "The point of no return", and then I plunged into humanity headlong and was torn to shreds for it, by my beloved's own hand. This was too ludicrous to bear. Surely He had more in mind for these souls then my influence in their lives?
This was the last thought I entertained before slipping into an uneasy sleep. For the first time in years, I fell asleep on my side with my hands clasped in prayer. Maybe not conventional prayer, but nonetheless, I was talking to God, and as improbable as it was that he was actually listening to me, I was demanding to be heard.
A/N- I have added a beta to my list of advisors for my story, so I must thank all who are responsible for ensuring this story makes sense and is flowing easily on the eyes. These wonderful associates are, in no particular order, my beta, Mouette, my captivated reader, Nicki who has been with me since chapter 6 of Even a Mask... and my daughter, Amanda who has been indentured since the beginning of her life listening to my stories and imagination running wild with everything from carosels in the closet to the man on the moon and has not given up on me in 16-1/2 years. Thank you for your time and reviews, chapter three will arrive as soon as I can sort through all Erik has to say...:-)