Christine dans Deux
An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2006
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Fourteen – Transformations
Trystin takes it upon her to teach Erik the best way to eat pancakes (which means syrup on the side, no butter and plenty of powdered sugar.) He tries it her way and admits it is good, but tells her he would like to add some butter. Trystin pauses and then replies happily, "That's the way my daddy liked them too! Does that mean you're going to be my daddy now?"
Erik and I look at each other both of us are at a loss for words. This is the last thing I was expecting. I thought she would be happy to meet him, yes. Then after a time, she would accept him as a part of our life. If we were fortunate enough to be able to find a way to be together. Her happy, innocent question proves to me that he belongs with us as my child feels the same immediate bond with the man that I did. Like her mother, she was bound to love him. Erik's voice interrupts my silent reverie.
Erik's face becomes serious. He turns to her and cupping her cheek with his hand says, "Trystin, I can never be your real daddy. You get only one of those a lifetime. However, such a beautiful young lady needs a papa. Would you allow me the honor of being your papa? I would like to do this for your daddy since he cannot be here."
If I hadn't already loved him this moment would have done me in for certain. However, I do love him already both utterly and completely.
We turn our heads and our eyes meet. And, suddenly I am broken no longer.
After 48 years of seeking, the hollowness of my soul filled. The broken place within my breast complete. All of the longing and quiet desperation I have ever felt is gone. In its place is Erik. He is a silver brilliance filling my mind banishing all darkness from my soul. I am golden light shining within Erik. I chase away his darkness. We complete one another. The broken edges of our soul mesh perfectly with one another. Our two halves mend and become whole in that moment. Our eyes locked upon one another, I know that he is I and I am he. I also know that he feels it as well. No longer are we one soul ripped in two. We are one soul sharing two bodies, two minds.
Our eyes fix upon one another and we revel in our oneness. I gasp as I see Erik's mask and wig dissolve leaving his face bare. I glance at Trystin. She leans on the table watching the two of us with a huge smile on her face. I return my gaze to Erik and watch as the tortured, twisted and disfigured features of his face become smooth and well formed. As if some invisible hand is erasing an error. I watch as his eye, eyebrow, nose and scalp reform. His missing eyebrow grows.
As I watch Erik's transformation (of which he seems completely unaware) I notice he is staring at me with equal wonder.
Lastly, his bare scalp fills with hair. His transformation is complete. Now, his face perfectly formed with a full head of thick, black, straight hair. As I gaze in wonder at the total beauty of this face, I realize this is the face I have always seen whenever I look at Erik. The other disfigured face was the one I have always had to struggle to see.
I notice something else. It is quiet in the kitchen. Very quiet. No, I correct myself. It is quiet inside my head.
"Erik!" I whisper and realize that I can hear again. "Erik! Trystin! I can hear again!" I shout. Then I whisper, "I can hear again."
"Mom, that's not the only thing that's happened. You guys need to come with me." She stands and holds out her hands to each of us. "You need to look in a mirror."
As meek as children, we each take one of her proffered hands. I stand and find that the pain in my hip and leg are gone. I can walk again without my cane! Trystin tugs at our hands and leads us into my bedroom. She releases our hands and gives each of us a little push towards the mirror. Her smile is radiant as she looks at first Erik and then me. Erik and I hesitate for just a moment and then we step before the mirrored wardrobe doors. The reflections revealed by the mirror stun us. We gasp! Erik sees his transformation and raises his hands to touch his face as if to make certain the mirror is not lying. I see a reflection of myself that I remember seeing when I was 24 years old. I too raise my hands and touch my face. The difference is not that great from moments ago. My greatest difference is my hair. It is back to its original dark auburn color (the hair color and grays are gone) and is fuller and longer (now reaching down my back to stop at my hips) with a gentle natural curliness that I never had before.
We turn to one another and our hands reach for one another. Erik takes me in his arms and kisses me.
Trystin clears her throat and says, "Get a room!"
I turn towards her (not leaving Erik's embrace) and reply, "This IS our room, silly."
Erik laughs and releases me. I lift Trystin and happily swing her around me (this is something I have never been able to do.) After a few revolutions, I gently drop her to the floor and I wobble for a moment until I regain my equilibrium. We are all laughing.
"I'm still hungry. Who wants to join me in the kitchen for breakfast?" Erik asks.
"I do! I do!" Cries Trystin.
"Me, too!" I answer with a grin.
With Trystin walking between the two of us and our arms around one another's waists, we return to the kitchen to finish our food. The first thing I see is my cane leaning against the table.
"I'll be right back." I walk to the cane, pick it up and quickly walk (me, I'm quickly walking) to the foyer. I place my companion of the last couple of years into the umbrella holder and thank it for its service. "I hope you will excuse me if I don't make use of you. It seems I've been given a second chance and I mean to make the most of it." I whisper to it, give it a little pat and return to finish my breakfast.
We finish eating as quickly as we can and perform the clean up in record time.
The first thing we do is go outside into the backyard. Erik slowly walks through the French doors and into the sun. He stands there for a moment with his eyes closed letting the sun shine on his face. I feel his happiness and revel in it. Trystin runs ahead of us and sits on a swing. She smiles as she watches the two of us. I watch Erik open his eyes and look about.
"Come out and play with us!" I call. I turn and run (run!) to the lawn. I stop and turn a cartwheel. Then I do a forward flip, land perfectly balanced on both my feet and complete the set with a forward roll again landing on both feet. I throw my arms out, arch my back, tip my head back and lift my chin in the proper gymnastic dismount.
I turn back to Erik and see him staring at me in amazement.
"I had no idea." He says simply.
"Most people don't. I was a gymnast when I was a child. The balance beam was my best event. I studied martial arts. I am a Phase Three in Jeet Chun Do. I had to give it up when the full contact combat caused me some female problems. I also studied Escrima, which is Filipino stick fighting and Thai kick boxing. However, my specialty is pressure points. I can disable a man larger than you, Erik, without having to throw a punch."
"I am not familiar with these things. Are you saying you were a fighter? Can you demonstrate? You can disable me? How?"
I walk up to him and we stand facing each other about two feet apart. I see Trystin begin to giggle. This demonstration is well-known to her and she knows how it will end.
"Attack me. However you like and don't tell where the attack will come from."
I unconsciously assume the ready position. My front foot is flat on the ground and my rear foot with raised heel for easy shifting of balance and movement in attack or retreat. I breathe and wait.
Erik seems uncomfortable with the thought of attacking me.
I reassure him. "You won't hurt me and I won't hurt you, either." I smile mischievously at him. "Well, not too badly, anyway!"
He suddenly realizes that I'm very serious about this and that this is all in fun. I can see him decide. I see the muscles of his arms tense through the fabric of his shirt. My hands come up. The left hand for attack, right hand for defense.
His arms reach towards me to grab me. I turn to my left and drop slightly. My right arm sweeps in a short arc, deflecting the attack. As my arm deflects, my right hand lightly grasps Erik's right bicep. I push my finger into his tricep, which causes Erik to grimace and his attack falters. My left hand pins his right arm, which frees my right hand. I side step right and calmly press my forefinger into the base of his throat. Total attack time, about four seconds.
As I press my finger into his throat, Erik steps back. And seeing a coup de gras, I release my hold on his bicep and change hand positions. Instead of finger into throat, I run my hand up his throat and into the base of his chin. I step forward. Erik's chin goes up, arms fly out, his feet slip on the wet grass and he lands unceremoniously on his bottom.
I skip away and back into the ready position.
He sits up there on the grass, blinking. I feel his shock, surprise, pride and his laughter ready to burst forth.
"Is there anything you cannot do?" He laughs. He stands up and brushes off his clothes.
"Well, I can't father children, but other than that why shouldn't I be able to do anything? You do realize that I can say the same of you. Artist, architect, composer, writer, magician, swordsman, singer and much more. We are both Renaissance people." My voice whispers urgently for a moment and then is silent. I think for a instant and then make my decision.
"T, do you think we should take Erik to the mall and get him some new clothes? Do you want to be his fashion coordinator?" I turn to Erik and wink.
"You bet I do! Let's go!" She jumps off her swing and races into the house. "I'll be ready in five minutes."
"T, don't forget, brush your teeth and your hair!"
"Okay! Okay! I will!" Her reply fades as she disappears into the house.
Erik walks around the yard, feeling the warmth of the sun and enjoying the sweet smells of my garden.
"I needed to speak with you and I didn't want Trystin to hear. My voice told me that Cecile is in trouble. We must go back to Paris tonight. That's why she didn't return this morning. Do not worry, my voice told me she will be all right until midnight tonight."
"How can you be certain of this?" His eyes narrow and turn dark.
"My voice told me. My voice doesn't lie and it has never been wrong. She is safe until midnight tonight, so we have some time. Not a lot, but it should be enough. I'm trying to decide what to do about Trystin. My heart tells me not to leave her alone again. Yet, I fear for her safety if we take her to Paris. And then again, I'm afraid of what will happen to her if we leave her here and we can't return for her. Erik, what should I do? Help me. What should we do?"
He lowers his head and thinks for a moment. Then nods his head.
"We must take her with us. She will stay in Madame's room while we do what we must. We can lock her in and she will be safe there. I would take her to my home, but there are too many ways in and out. I cannot guarantee her safety there."
"Then we bring her with us. Do you think Madame will mind if I put Trystin in her bed?"
"No. Especially not after she meets her. That child is special just as her mother is." He smiles at me.
"I love you."
We walk into the living room and he marvels. I did not notice your furniture before now. What is this?"
"It's from China. I like Chinese art and furniture. The couch and tables are made of rosewood and those are Chinese dragons carved across the back and on the armrests. If you like that come here and see this."
I lead him to my formal dining room and step aside so he can enter the room. He walks to the table. His hand reaches out and caresses the carvings that run around the outer sloping edge of the table.
"They are beautiful. Who are they?"
"They're on the chair backs as well. They represent the four seasons. You know, spring, summer, winter and fall. They are minor goddess. My favorite goddess is Quan Yin. I have a bronze, an alabaster and a wooden carving of Quan Yin. She is the Chinese Goddess of Creation. Before the earth existed there was Quan Yin, the phoenix and the dragon. The phoenix (the heavens) and the dragon (the oceans) could not exist in harmony and fought constantly. At last, Quan Yin could take no more of their battling and stepped between the two. She received a cut on her hand as she separated the two creatures. The wound was not deep, but her blood flowed freely. It dripped and landed on the back of the dragon. The places touched by her blood became land. Would you like to see her?"
"Of course. Lead the way."
I show him around my house while we wait for Trystin.
He turns to me and says, "There is something you haven't told me, isn't there?"
For the first time since our two halves rejoined, I cannot meet his eyes. I feel a shadow from the past, a fear darken my mind. I try to push it away, but the more I struggle with it the deeper it digs in. I know Erik can feel it too.
He continues. "Yes, there is. It has nothing to do with Madame. It is … It is about Christine."
I look at the floor continuing my struggle against the fear.
"Name it!" My voice cries. "Name it and it will have no power over you."
I know this fear, but the answer to my voice is not the answer Erik requires.
I nod miserably. "I was wrong. We must help set Christine free. We have to find a way to help her. She deserves to be happy, not imprisoned with the Vicomte."
"I feel that is the right thing to do as well. And yet, there is still something else. What is it? What troubles you so? Mon chére cœur, please, look at me!"
I raise my eyes to meet his. He sees my fear. In his eyes I see confusion and take hope from that.
"Name your fear!" My voice cries again.
I ignore it and continue. "I have an idea of how we can free her. When I went to the university, I majored in history and minored in English. I specialized in Pre-Grecian civilizations, but I seem to remember something about the burning of the Tuileries Palace in May 1871. We can use that to make Raoul believe that Christine dies there. I don't have all of the details worked out, but she would be free of him. Free to find happiness." I trail off and find myself looking at the floor again.
I feel his hand under my chin and he raises my face. I lift my eyes to his and hate that he can see tears gathering in my eyes. I cannot stop them. I feel my lip tremble. I bite my lip to still it.
"You believe I would want to be with her?" He pauses. "No." And there is a surprised sadness in his voice. "You fear it."
"Yes." The word escapes my mouth before I can stop it.
He gathers me into a tight embrace, his hand strokes my hair.
"I love you. That will never change. Yes, I do love Christine, but not as I love you. I never did. Never. She is but a child. I feel for her as a brother to a sister. I could no more kiss her as I kiss you than I could kiss Trystin that way. It would be wrong. Please, feel me my love. Do not fear. Fear is a cruel form of le petit mort." He pauses and shakes his head. "I never thought someone would fear that I would not love them."
The voice booms in my mind, "NAME IT!"
The sound of it is like an explosion in my mind and I hear Erik gasp.
"What was that?"
My voice spoke so loud that its words crossed our bond and hit Erik with its powerful demand of me.
I cling to him for support and breathe slowly to calm my mind.
"Erik, I must name my fear then it will have no power over me. The name of my fear is …"
I inhale and on the exhale, I breathe out the word, "Rejection!"
The darkness in my mind contracts into a tight ball.
Erik stiffens as he hears the name of my fear for is one he owns as well.
He joins with me and gives voice to the name of his fear, "Rejection!"
An orb of blinding silver and gold light consumes the shadow ball. As the light devours the shadow, our memories of rejection pass before both our minds' eyes. The memories flee before the light, but the light is too strong, too swift and it overtakes the memories and dissolves them until those shadows remain no more.
We stand facing one another, blinking in surprise and relief at our release from our fear.
I look into the blue-green depths of Erik's eyes and know I would be happy to just stand there and stare at them forever. He smiles, takes my hand, leads me to the couch, where he sits me down. He lowers himself to rest on one knee before me and holds my hand in both of his. We gaze deep into one another's eyes. I break my eyes away and close my eyes.
"Christine, I have not the token required by custom, but perhaps, you will forgive me this. Christine. Christine!"
He gives my hand a little shake and I open my eyes and he holds my gaze with his own. He is so serious and earnest.
"Christine, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
"Of course she will!" Trystin answers from behind us.
I gaze into his eyes and smile. He releases my hand and we throw our arms around each other and hug one another tightly.
"Yes, I will. I will be your wife. Erik, dearest, I am sorry. I did not doubt you. I never doubted you. I only doubted that I was worthy of being loved by you."
"I know, ma chére cœur, it is a fear we shared. It is gone and done now. And well, we will just have to spend the rest of our lives showing each how much we love and want each other. We will not allow anyone or anything to draw us apart ever again, mon chére cœur. I love you."
"I love you, Erik."
Trystin joins us and chatters excitedly about being our flower girl.
As quickly as it appeared, the fear is gone forever. I feel Erik's love flowing into me and I return his love with waves of my own. He blinks as he feels my thoughts of desire. He shakes his head with a glance at Trystin.
He thinks to me, "Later, ma chére cœur."
I give him a side-long look and a lop-sided smile. I turn to Trystin.
"Well, ready to go, T?"
"Yep! Let's go!"