Cedric's Journal, cont.

My father sighed loudly at my immediate recognition of Erik's voice.

"Well, I guess that settles it, he knows its you. Take him. He never was my son, in fact, some days I am almost certain that he really isn't my son and that Christine must have…"

He trailed off.

Erik spoke once more.

"I have assured you several times, Monsieur, that your wife and I never engaged in any such thing as what you are implying. But if it makes you feel better about the whole situation, you may choose not to believe me."

I felt dizzy and confused. Did my father say what I think he said?

"I'm…I'm leaving with you?"

I felt his hand on mine. I shivered. He felt very cold.

"Do you really remember me, Cedric?" He sounded like he was shocked.

"Yes, of course I remember you! You…" I paused, realizing this would sound very childish, but something in my memory was telling me it was the right thing to say if I wished to assure him.

"You're my Erik."

The woman and man with the accent laughed softly.

I heard my father's wheel chair wheel over, and he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry Cedric. I'm sorry you were born into this mess, it wasn't fair to you. And…well, I had your mother's love in the end. And perhaps…perhaps this is only fair. The Phan- uh….Erik. Erik is your father now. "

And I then he wheeled away without saying another word. I could feel his relief in letting me go, and I was past the time in my life when his rejection could hurt me.

There was a few moments silence, and then I spoke.

"Where will we go?"

Erik laughed. It was a pure laugh, a kind one.

"Oh, Ced, the question is, where won't we go? Tell me, son, do you like to travel?"

I nodded vigorously, and then stopped.

"Well, actually, I've never left Paris…"

The woman spoke next

"Would you like to come see the world with us, Cedric?"

Her voice was kind too…and I wondered if that was what it felt like for most children when their mothers addressed them. But I heard her gasp suddenly, realizing her mistake before I even had. She had asked a blind boy if he wanted to see the world.

I tried to convey wordlessly that I hadn't taken offense, but I sensed that something more was going on. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath.

Erik leaned in closer to me.

"Cedric, I've been keeping something from you…and if I tell you, I need you to realize it may change the way you perceive me. In several ways…"

I nodded, feeling a bit uneasy. "What is it?" I whispered.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then continued on.

"I studied many rare medicines and medical procedures when I was younger. I've met many amazing doctors that the Western world is oblivious to. Nadir, the man standing behind me, also had a son who was blind, and although not from birth like you, it was very similar case. Nadir allowed me to perform an autopsy after his son passed away, which was very generous, since his culture frowns on such things. I convinced him that it would perhaps allow me to aid another child one day, and he reluctantly gave in. From the autopsy, I learned much about the functions of the eye, and much about how one would perhaps go about curing blindness. The point is, ever since you were born, I have been fairly certain, that if I had the right help and medicine, and a sufficient amount of time, I could cure you."

His story was very long and nervous sounding, and after he finished, I sat in awe for a few moments.

"You mean I could see?"

"Yes, that would have been a much shorter way of saying it, I suppose…."

I felt my excitement falter for a moment. I suddenly felt confused, and was teetering on the edge of anger.

"Erik, why didn't you tell my mother this right away? Why didn't you do something about it sooner?"

No one spoke. Aggravated, I broke through the silence,

"Erik-!"

He took my hands in his, cutting me off, and I felt a chill run down my spine. Ever since I was young, he had the calm ability to stop my tantrums before they even started. And why on Earth was he so cold to the touch?

I began to cry, and I wanted to pull away. I had never felt afraid of him, but something didn't seem right.

"Erik, what is it?" I said quietly, trying to hold back my sobs.

"If I show you, please Cedric, don't scream…I think it'd kill me."

I was shaking all over, but I managed to nod.

"Madame, hold this," I heard him say as one of his hands left mine for a moment.

"Cedric…I love you. And if this changes your decision about wanting to go with us, I will still love you and I will not blame you at all."

I felt a little braver. All my life I had waited to hear someone say they loved me. My mother said it sometimes, but it was usually in an expectant tone, as if demanding to hear me say it to her and my father in response. Or it was an apologetic plea, begging me to come to her, or act normal for awhile. I didn't believe in the phrase; I found it cliché and overused. But when I heard Erik say it, it was...different. I could feel the words. I had never heard words said with such pure intentions.

I felt him raise my hand up to his face and place it against his left cheek. It was fairly smooth, with a tiny bit of stubble.

"That's the face I was meant to have, Cedric," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Curiously, I lifted my hand on my own and placed it on the right side of his face, feeling for the first time the twisted scar tissue and the cold, almost corpse-like flesh that was the other side of his visage. I felt the deep gash that served as half his nose, and the hollow cheek that felt sickeningly like a skull with something thin and raw stretched over it. "The dark side of the moon..." I thought absently. I could feel his whole body twitching, yearning to pull away due to some instinct that he had learned from life experience after life experience. But he stayed put. And I didn't not flinch.

I pulled away after a few moments and sat in silence on the stairs, thinking about what this must have meant for Erik. Then I said,

"It isn't too late?"

Erik sounded very weak and drained, but knew what I was referring to.

"No, I am still fairly confident I can fix your eyes. Soon, if you desire."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell him I wasn't upset with him at all. Perhaps I was being too forgiving, but something told me he needed someone to be. That's what love is, I guess. Forgiveness.

I wanted to tell him I understood why he didn't tell me sooner, and that I wasn't bothered by his face. I wanted to say all sorts of things, but I couldn't put them to words. Instead I just hugged him, and I believe I caught him completely off guard.

I was so glad I finally had him back, and that was all that mattered.