I almost feel guilty writing this chapter, as you're optimistic reviews make me smile. I even considered dropping the coming events in favor of something softer. This last third or fourth of my story has been planned for some time, though, and I've really been looking forward to writing it. I hope everyone keeps reading…even when things seem dismal. So hold on tight!
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By three o'clock of the following afternoon, Christine could sense a feeling of anxiety slowly building inside of her. Perhaps it was because she had been in solitude for most of the day. Erik had departed early that morning, leaving her with many questions.
Not that she was forced to stay there by herself.
"Are you sure you do not wish to go out today?" he had enquired, as he prepared to leave. "I can arrange for the driver to take you to a place of your choosing. As long as you are back by evening, I see no problems."
She had hesitated, still not liking the idea of touring the city by herself. "No. I'm fine here today. Maybe tomorrow I'll go out."
Erik had looked down upon her, affectionately brushing the tips of his fingers against her cheek. "Very well, then. I will see you this evening."
Christine smiled, her face tingling. "All right. I'll be here."
"I know that you will."
With one last glance toward her, Erik left the house, the door locking with a sharp click behind him. She briefly wondered if it was locked from the inside but decided that it didn't matter. There was no reason to try to leave. Feeling somewhat content in the cozy living area, she had curled up on the leather couch with a novel and read for several hours. When lunchtime had finally arrived, Christine had sauntered into the kitchen and made a sandwich with the expensive cuts of meat that Erik often bought. She looked around the room as she ate, beginning to feel uncomfortable in the ever-present silence. The only other sounds were the ticking clock and an occasional noise from outside.
Her thoughts began to creep up on her again, sliding out of the darker corners of her mind. Where exactly had Erik gone? Why had he seemed so panicked the other day? Why had her auditions with Mr. Piane not worked out? He had seemed pleased with her performance.
After pushing her bothersome curiosities away, Christine suddenly felt the strong need for company. When would Erik be home? She was beginning to enjoy their time together more and more, the quiet conversations and entrancing voice lessons. Getting up from the couch, she aimlessly wandered into her bedroom, straightening the shelves and smoothing out the lacy dress of the porcelain doll.
The silence would begin to drive her crazy in several days. Maybe she would take Erik's advice and go out tomorrow. Touring the museum alone couldn't be that difficult.
As she stepped out of her dim bedroom and back into the living area, Christine suddenly noticed a strange smell wafting through the air. It was a very faint odor, slightly bitter, slightly sweet, and somewhat familiar. Crinkling her nose, Christine wondered if it was some kind of food or something coming in from outside.
With nothing else to do, she walked back into the kitchen but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No jars or cans of food had been opened that would emit such a scent. The trash held no strange contents. Slowly, she walked even farther back to Erik's room and peeked in through the open door. Everything looked as it always had. The strange six-sided bed was neatly made, the music from their last practice was stacked atop the piano, and the figurines were all in their proper places.
Her eyes suddenly fell upon the hidden door….the one Erik had warned her to stay away from on her first tour of the house. For the first time, she noticed that it was slightly open, leaving the entrance more visible to the human eye. The odor did seem stronger now, a pungent and sour smell that she still couldn't identify.
Christine's gaze lingered upon the gray door, and she could feel her accursed curiosity building again...just as it had when she had torn off the black porcelain. She shuddered, remembering the rage and despair in the two eye sockets and twisted mouth. To lose Erik's trust would be unbearable. To see him angry again would be even worse.
Swallowing, she attempted to ignore the smell, leaving Erik's room and shutting the door tightly behind her. Returning to the couch, she picked up a book and forced herself to concentrate, often looking over the same sentence three times before she had actually read it.
Erik finally returned late that afternoon, a few hours earlier than she had expected him home. Christine looked up with a genuine smile as he entered the room. He nodded in greeting, his shoulders appearing slightly more relaxed than they had that morning. "Good afternoon, Christine. Did you enjoy your day here? Or did you nearly die of boredom?"
She laughed. "I was fine. But I might try going out tomorrow...if that's okay."
"Of course," he replied. "Decide where you want to go, and I will arrange it with the driver."
"Thanks. Maybe I'll give the museum another try."
"I imagine that you will enjoy it." Erik glanced at the clock and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. "Come. I will make you dinner now. If I ever believe that I will be later than this, something will already be prepared for you. This inconvenient arrangement should not last long if all goes accordingly."
Christine gazed curiously at him, wishing he would explain his cause of distress. When he didn't, she pushed the matter aside and resumed a cheerful tone. "That's fine! There's plenty to eat in the kitchen. You don't have to worry about me."
He fondly brushed his hand against her long hair. "Yes. You are capable of taking care of yourself, aren't you? Still, I wish you to stay as comfortable as possible. As soon as I accomplish several more tasks, we can return to living normally again...focusing on your career. "
Christine leaned into his hand slightly, watching as his eyes lit up. "All right," she replied. "But I am fine here. You don't have to hurry with your errands."
She thought she heard Erik softly sigh, before he withdrew his hand and motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen. Christine stood up and obediently followed. The bitter odor still hung in the air, growing stronger as they entered the kitchen and became nearer to the back bedroom. For a moment, Christine even considered asking Erik if he knew what it was.
Then, she suddenly wondered if he even had a sense of smell, and that thought caused a new wave of sympathy to wash over her. Erik again had that vulnerable look about him as he quietly prepared her dinner, his concentration focused downward with the utmost care. Smiling, she forgot her questions and momentarily watched him, tenderly brushing her hand against his shoulder as she walked into the kitchen.
The smell of the cooking food engulfed the room, quickly suppressing the strange odor from the air. It was a pot roast and vegetable dish, cooked in a southern style that Mrs. Valerius had often used when she was in better health. The scent immediately brought a melancholy feeling to Christine as she waited at the table, remembering family dinners from her past. Mrs. Valerius and her husband would often come out to the lake and cook for her and her father. Raoul had even joined them on several occasions, thrilled to get away from his own family for a few hours. Talking and laughing under the wooden roof of the porch, they all watched as the orange sun descended behind the trees, content to forget their problems in the tranquility of the warm evening.
She frowned slightly as she picked up her fork and began to eat. How long had it been since she had thought of such things? And Mrs. Valerius-she hadn't called the hospital in several days. Erik immediately noticed her expression. "Is something wrong, Christine? It is a different style than you may be used to."
"No. It's wonderful." She hesitated and picked at a carrot. "I wanted to know if I could call the hospital this evening. It's been several days, and I wanted to know..." Her voice tapered off.
Erik slowly nodded in understanding, although he seemed displeased. "Those phone calls put you in such distress, that I do wonder if they are the best thing for you. But if you feel that you must."
"Thank you. I think that it will put me at ease. I hate not knowing."
"Very well. After dinner, then."
Christine finished her meal in a comfortable silence, occasionally answering Erik's questions about her singing or seeing the city. She smiled frequently, and he seemed to be in a good mood that evening, always content to be in her company. After her plate was empty, she began to take it to the sink. Erik lightly touched her wrist. "I will take care of it, Christine. Call your guardian." He hesitantly took the cellular phone from his pocket and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Erik. I'll be quick."
Going back into the living area, she sat down on the leather sofa and dialed the operator with shaking fingers. After several long waits, she was finally directed to the correct ward. The phone rang three times before a nurse finally picked up. "Oncology ward."
Christine swallowed, her heart racing as it always did during this phone call. "Hi. My name is Christine Daae. I'm a close relative of Hazel Valerius and would like to know her present condition."
"One moment please," the woman replied in a tired voice, perhaps about to come off a long shift.
A lengthy silence passed...longer than usual. In the background, she could hear the faint sound of voices and the rustling of papers. Christine dug her fingers into the armrest of the sofa. Erik came to stand behind her.
"Ms. Daae?" the nurse hesitantly began.
"Yes?"
"I am very sorry to inform you that Mrs. Valerius will be taken off life support tomorrow morning. She is no longer at all responsive to her surroundings, and there is nothing left that can be done. Several of her distant relatives have been contacted. You have my sincere apologies if we somehow skipped over your number."
Christine nearly choked. A chill ran through her, and the room swayed slightly. Of course, she had been expecting the news at some point, but nothing ever prepares one for the event. From behind her, she felt Erik place a hand upon her shoulder. "I…no," she stuttered. "You didn't have my number. I…Thank you. I'll be down there soon."
"I am sorry, ma'am," the nurse said kindly. I'm not sure what your arrangements are. Maybe you can get into contact with the rest of her family."
"All right," she whispered. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Ms. Daae. You have our condolences."
Christine numbly clicked off the phone and placed her head into her hands. No tears came yet, but the sick sensation lingered inside of her stomach, along with the faint feeling of guilt. She couldn't even be there.
"The news is not good?" Erik softly questioned.
Christine shook her head. "They're taking her off life support tomorrow," she murmured, staring blankly at the floor. "She's not responsive."
"I am sorry," he replied with sincerity. "Such news is never easy."
She was silent for a moment, trying to find some stability in the confusion. One thing finally became clear. Gathering her resolve, Christine asked the question. "Erik? I need to go back for a little while. All my belongings are still at the apartment. And the funeral. I want to be there for that." Several tears now streamed down her cheeks. "Just for a little while. And then I'll come back."
All stood quiet for several seconds. She kept her gaze downward, not wanting to see the fear that must now be gathering in his eyes. "Perhaps..." he began, his voice laced with tension. "Perhaps now would be the best time for you to close that part of your life… gather your possessions and say your goodbyes. And I...I will complete my errands in a quicker fashion."
She eagerly nodded. "Yes. You have things to do, too. And I can finish up everything in Vermont."
Erik gripped her shoulder tighter now, right below the point of discomfort. "In a week-yes, a week should be enough-you will return. I will have accomplished what must be done by that time. We can then resume as we were. All else can be placed behind us and forgotten. Only you and I will matter."
"Yes," she agreed. "A week will be perfect. Maybe not even that long."
"And then you will return," he said, a slight warning tone in his calm voice.
"Of course, Erik. I'll come back, and I won't have to go to Vermont anymore."
"Very well," he warily replied. "As my driver is occupied tomorrow, I will ensure that someone else picks you up in the morning. Around nine, perhaps. " He paused. "Although I do despise allowing you to venture up there by yourself."
"I'll be fine," Christine gently replied, placing her hand atop his. "I promise. It's only one week."
Erik slowly nodded. "Fine. One week. I suppose you have dealt with the world before."
"I have. I'll be fine."
He lifted his hand from her shoulder. "Wait here," he commanded, suddenly turning around and rushing into his chambers.
Christine glanced up in surprise but obediently stayed upon the couch, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Erik emerged seconds later with a small white box in hand, his eyes aglow. "I had planned to give this to you at a later time, perhaps after a performance. But now will do." Quickly opening the lid, he removed a bracelet. Tiny white diamonds hung along a small golden chain, sparkling in the dim lamp light. Momentarily forgetting her melancholy, she let out a gasp of delight.
"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "You shouldn't have done this...I..."
"Nonsense. It is perfect for you." He undid the clasp and motioned for her to hold out her arm. She quickly did so, allowing him to wrap the cool piece of jewelry around her small wrist. "Just as I thought," he stated, staring downward.
"Thank you so much, Erik."
He watched her for several moments. Then, taking her right hand into his left, he slowly held it up to his masked cheek. Christine could feel the cold porcelain beneath her fingers. Her heart pounded quickly, and an encompassing warm came over her. She suddenly didn't want to leave. Everything was so perfect in the tiny apartment. She was so very loved….so very safe and protected.
But it would only be for a week, after all. A single week to clear everything in Vermont up. Then, she would return. She would return to this small paradise.
He finally released her hand, his eyes a shade of bright gold. "Come, my Christine. We will make arrangements for your short visit."
She nodded, a tearful smile upon her flushed face.
It was only for a week.
The night was restless. With the knowledge of what lay ahead, Christine frequently tossed and turned, disconcerting thoughts running through her mind. It would be the first time she had been alone in a while, for one thing. And what was she supposed to do with her many belongings? Not everything would fit in the black car. Then there was still a burning curiosity as to what Erik had been doing in those last few days. A part of her didn't want to know, yet she couldn't push it from her mind.
Finally, she woke up from a shallow slumber and decided that it had to be morning. Flipping on a light, she looked at the red digits on a small clock by her bedside and saw that it was six. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Christine got up to tell Erik goodbye before he left on his errand. Their parting moment last night had been strangely abrupt.
They had separated shortly after he had given her the bracelet, and after he had given her several words of warning. She was not supposed to talk to anyone she didn't know, nor was she supposed to mention him as anything more than a vocal teacher. Although she was allowed to see some of her old friends from college, it was best not to let them get deeply involved in her life. After one week, the black car would pick her up at the front of the apartment, and she would return to stay.
Every so often, Erik would get a reluctant look in his eye, as if he were suddenly going to change his mind and not allow her to go. Somehow, she managed to convince him that she would be fine….she would come back. Finally, he had bid her goodnight and wished her well on her trip, quickly heading back into his own room with a tense gait.
Christine finally stumbled out of bed and put on a warm cloth robe over her pajamas. In the light of the lamp, she could see the bracelet glimmering on the table. She smiled to herself as she opened the bedroom door, noticing that only a single lamp lit the empty sitting room. "Hello?" she quietly asked, gazing around. "Erik?"
She stepped out onto the soft throw rug, listening for sounds of movement. Surely he couldn't have left this early. Her gaze wandered downward, and she blinked in pleasant surprise.
Beside the edge of the couch lay an attractive black leather suitcase with several roomy pockets, clearly set out for her use. Above it, several hundred dollar bills lay upon the table with the twisted legs. Another smile graced her face at his thoughtfulness. Looking up, she saw that the door to his room remained open and that a light glowed from the inside. "Erik?" she called again.
Silence met her.
Slowly, she made her way to the back. Christine turned and peeked into his bedroom but saw no one there. Maybe there was a note somewhere. Maybe he had been forced to leave early. Maybe….
She started to turn around and go back into the living area but stopped as her eyes again fell on the mysterious gray door. If she concentrated, Christine swore she could smell the strange odor again. A monotonous hum sounded out from somewhere in the background, almost like that of a refrigerator. "Erik?" she asked one last time.
The eyes of the figurines in the room watched her as she walked forward. Her gaze shifted to the coffin momentarily. No! The bed. It wasn't a coffin. It only looked like one. Her curiosity pulled her forward, although she knew that grave consequences could follow. But what could be in there? It was probably a storage room. Still, she walked forward.
Something was wrong.
She didn't know what that meant. It was a deep feeling-but a feeling that had been nagging at her for some time. Placing her hand on the door latch, she took a deep breath, praying that Erik would never find out. But what could the room possibly contain that would be so terrible? She would take a quick look. In a single move, she pushed the latch in and flung the door open.
And then she stepped inside.
Raoul stared down at the closed suitcase for several seconds, trying to remember any last minute items to throw in. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was about seven, meaning that the plane left in about six hours. Brian was the type that would want to get there at least three hours beforehand. With Kim's habit of being fashionably late, though, they'd be lucky not to miss the plane.
He still wasn't thrilled about the trip but decided it might get his mind off things for at least a little while. Thoughts of Christine continued to drift into his head every so often, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she was fine. There was something...very strange about the entire situation. If everything was fine, then why couldn't she talk to him without hiding?
But what could he do now? He didn't even know where she was, and Christine had his number if she ever wanted to call. She'd had plenty of chances to contact the police, too.
After giving his two-year-old Dalmatian a goodbye pat on the head, Raoul wandered out of his bedroom to look through his brother's CD collection. Phillip was already in the room, working on a new stereo system. He always had some new gadget he was playing with when he wasn't at work or socializing.
"You heading off soon?" Phillip asked, glancing up from a pile of wires.
"Yeah. Probably in a couple of hours. Mind if I take a look around. I want something to listen to during the flight."
Phillip shrugged. "Sure. Just none of the newer stuff." He paused and looked back up. "You know, I'm thinking about asking Sorelli to marry me soon...once she's out of school. What do you think?"
Raoul glanced up with surprise, always picturing Phillip as more the permanent bachelor type. "Really? Sorelli?"
His brother grinned. "Yeah. I need to settle down some time, especially with the company. And she's really the only one I've been in a long relationship with. We'll see. But I'm thinking about it."
Raoul nodded. "Yeah. You two seem to work out together. Let me know how it goes."
"Sure. And let me know about the action on the slopes. Great things can happen up in the mountains...warm cabins...beautiful ladies..."
"Eh."
Phillip rolled his eyes. "Come on. Will you get over that girl and have some fun? She's obviously got big problems that you don't want to be involved with. Girls like that are not worth it."
"Would you not talk about Christine like that? Jeez. Stay out of this! It's over now anyway." He randomly grabbed a handful of CDs. "I'd better be going."
"I thought you said you weren't leaving for a couple of hours."
"Maybe I'll grab some coffee first," he replied, making his way out of the room.
"Have fun up there!"
Raoul shook his head and headed back to grab his suitcase, very eager to get out of the house. Even though the home was enormous by most standards, it still seemed somewhat suffocating.
The phone rang out from behind him, but he left it for someone else to answer. He wanted to escape the city for a while. Maybe the mountains of Colorado were as good a place as any.
"Raoul!" he heard his brother's voice from behind him and turned.
"What?
"Phone call!"
"Is it Brian? Tell him I'm on my way over." He started to turn back around and head out the door.
"No! It's a girl."
Raoul paused again, before abandoning the suitcase on the floor and picking up the extension line from the wall. "Hello?" he asked. A silence passed, and he wondered if they had hung up. The caller id wasn't able to identify the number. "Hello?"
"Raoul?" The voice was barely above a whisper, but he recognized it immediately.
"Christine!"
"Yeah," she shakily replied. "It's me."
"Are you okay? Where are you?"
Another pause. "I..." She choked. "Mrs. Valerius passed away."
"Oh. I'm so sorry, Christine. Is there anything I can do? Where are you right now?"
He heard her swallow. "I...I can't say where I am now. But I...I'm going up to Vermont today." There was a crackle on the other line, followed by the sound of other voices. "No," he heard her say to someone else. "I'm sorry. I don't have any change." She took a shuddery breath.
Raoul gripped the phone. "Is everything else all right? Where in God's name are you?"
"I can't let you come here," she replied. "I just…oh….I'm scared. I'm so scared!"
"Let me know where you are. Let me help you. You're scaring me."
"I can't let you come here," she repeated. "Not here. Oh! You're going to Aspen, aren't you? I'm sorry. I forgot about that. I'm ruining your trip, aren't I?"
"Forget about Aspen!" he quickly interrupted. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me where to find you."
"Oh God. I don't know if..." She hesitated. "Can you meet me in Vermont? Or maybe you shouldn't. Maybe I should hang up."
"No, Christine. Don't hang up. All right? I'll meet you in Vermont. In Burlington, right? Where's a good place?"
"I don't know. I can't even think. What if-I don't know."
"Calm down," he said, soothingly. "Calm down. Your apartment? I know where that is."
"No," she quickly replied. "He knows where...No. That's not a good place. I..." She was quiet for a moment, and Raoul was afraid that he'd lost her. Christine's voice suddenly perked up. "I know! My old employment place. God! I'd forgotten about it. But you could stay the night there. Yes. Maybe that would work."
"All right! Great!" he eagerly replied. "What's the name of it?"
"The Apollo Hotel. It's right off the campus. On the east side."
"I'll find it," he replied. "Are you sure you don't need help now? I wish you'd tell me where you are."
"No. I'll be okay. I'd better go now."
"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. Take care, Christine."
"I will." Another shuddery breath. "Raoul?"
"Yeah?"
"Be careful."