Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Thirty-Nine – Breakfast Truths

The journey through the corridors of the château gives me time to think about Christine. My Christine. The wondrous mingling of our bodies and minds. The completion of our bond has given me strength of purpose. Before this morning, I had times where I wondered how she could love me. Now, there are no more doubts. I know her love for me the same as I know my love for her. Before my love for her sometimes acted as a distraction. A marvelous distraction, but a distraction none the less. Now, our love is the bedrock of my life. It is the steady foundation for us to build our future.

I think,

"There are no second thoughts.
We've passed the point of no return.
Our fates are joined forever."

And I am glad.

The dining room is bright with the light of morning and the chandelier light adds warmth to any shadows the sun has not dispelled. My father sits at the head of the table alone patiently waiting for his family.

I walk to him and kiss him on the cheek.

"Good morning, father."

He looks at me smiling. "Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?"

"Very well indeed. Thank you. And you?"

"Oh, I slept well for the first time in, oh, I cannot remember how long. So, tell me is Henrí acceptable to you as valet?"

"You know he is perfect, father. He is a wonderful boy, not to mention an excellent barber."

My father laughs delightedly and slaps his leg.

"Please, sit."

I take my place at his right hand.

"I fear your beloved keeps us waiting."

"Fear not, father. She is worth the wait."

"Of that I have no fear. Erik, how did the two of you meet? When the two of you are in the same room, I have the strangest feeling. While I do not wish to question the miracle of you forgiving me. Or your healed features. There is more to your story than you have told me. I do not mean to pressure you, but I am worried. She is so perfect for you. And you, you are so different. I feel that perhaps, I have lost my mind and retreated into a dream of wishful thinking. Who is she? Who are you?"

Emotions play across my father's face that cause me real concern and I decide to tell him the truth.

"Father, if you dream, then I do too. I will tell you our story, but I fear you will not believe it."

"Erik, look me in the eyes. Tell me you are my son."

I reach out and take his hands in mine.

"I am your son, Erik. I was the deformed product of your union with Genevieve. I was the opera ghost, the trapdoor lover, architect, assassin, composer, magician and the feared Phantom of the Opera. I was all of these things and yet, none of them were me. I hated everyone with the exception of two people. Christine Daae and Cecile Giry. I loved Christine's voice and I owed my life to Cecile. I did not know how to love people, but Christine showed me the ways of friendship. I have told you the truth of what befell Christine and me. She sacrificed herself for me. And I told her that I loved her for it. Now, here is where my story becomes unbelievable. As I sat in my refuge below the opera house unmasked and weeping over my failure to protect my friend, I suddenly heard my voice surround me. And I heard myself singing, "Christine I love you.""

"As those words faded I found I was no longer in my bedroom, but in a room I had never seen before. A woman sat on a sofa six feet in front of me. I had never seen this woman before, but I knew her. I could feel it somehow even then I knew we were somehow connected. The two of sat frozen in shock staring at one another. Then I heard Christine's voice singing and then Raoul's. That released us from our shock. I leapt to my feet and backed away from her. She attempted to rise, but fell to her knees. I noticed a cane leaning on the arm of the couch, so without thinking I offered her my hand and helped her to her feet. I backed away from her as soon as she was standing. I will never forget her first words to me, she said, "Excuse me, but where did you come from?""

"She was so calm. Her complete lack of horror or fear at my presence made me forget that I was not wearing my mask. I could not answer her the first time she asked. It was only after she repeat the question and bent down to catch my eyes. It was when I saw her smile. That was when I found my tongue and could speak. That was the moment my life truly began. I will not repeat everything we said to one another, as we would be here much too long. The one thing that you should know about my Christine is she is the only person to look upon my unmasked face with fear or loathing. From the first moment we met, she saw me. And she loved me. I now know that she while she saw my face at the same time she did not see it. My deformity was a mask to her that covered the real person she saw beneath it. She loves me for me. And I love her for her. I was born deformed. Life's cruelties chipped away at the normal body she received at birth. At 10, an accidental injury left mostly deaf and at 45, she became partially paralyzed. I was 36 and she was 48 when we met. Yes, I see you do not believe it. Believe it father. Look at me. You know I will be 37 in a few days. Do I not look much younger?"

The damn bursts and I pour forth our entire tale. I feel Christine enter the room and walk to my side. She places her hand on my shoulder and I reach up and place my hand on top of hers. Her presence gives me the strength I need to tell my father everything. Well, almost anyway. There are some things best left unsaid. When at last my torrent of words cease. I gaze hesitantly at him awaiting an outburst of disbelief and denial.

"Give him a chance, dearest. Our tale is quite unbelievable." Christine's soothing voice fills my mind. I give her hand a loving squeeze that she returns in kind.

Christine bends and places a kiss on my cheek then releases my hand. She walks to my father, bends, places a soft kiss of his cheek and then takes her place at the table. My father blinks and then turns to Christine.

"You are an educated woman. I knew that the moment I heard you speak. Did you attend university?"

"Yes, I majored in History and minored in English and received my Bachelor of Arts at California State University, Northridge. I am a licensed by the State of California as a Real Estate Broker. I do not act as agent in the purchase or sale of properties, but as an agent for owners of multi-unit housing … apartment buildings. I am co-owner of a property management company. My partner is also a female. We are a small company. We manage 10 apartment buildings, which contain a combined total of approximately 500 units. We also manage 2 duplexes, 1 condominium and 2 houses. I work four different jobs. I manage the bookkeeping at the management office, I am the on-site manager of the 16-unit property in which I reside and I am off-site manager of a 16-unit property and a 7-unit property. I have worked in this field for nearly 21 years. The date of my hire as on-site manger was February 15, 1986. I began my position as office manager on April 1, 1989. My date of birth is November 4, 1957. I was born in Encino, California at 4:36 a.m. My mother's maiden name was Peters. She died in an motorized carriage accident on June 1, 1984. The carriage driver was drunk. The passengers with her in the vehicle also died my maternal grandfather and my 6-year old daughter, Adrianna. My mother and grandfather died on impact. My daughter hung on to life for one week. She died on June 8, 1984. My father's name is Nicholas. He is a family doctor and although he is 72-years old, he is in excellent health and still practices medicine full-time. Would you like to ask me anything else?"

"Can you take me there?"

His question surprises both of us.

"Why?" Christine asks.

"To see the future." He turns to me. "You have been there?"

"Yes, father."

His eyes become unfocused and suddenly I feel the hairs on my arms stand up. The room crackles with electricity. He shakes his head and the crackling ceases.

Christine is smiling and she is shaking her head.

"So, it is not from his mother that Erik received his gifts, is it?"

"No, although she was indeed a gypsy, she was not a mentalist or medium. My family has the gift." He raises his eyes to meet mine. "Our family. I am a soothsayer. I longed denied my gift much to my own detriment, but Genevieve helped me accept it, develop it and finally, to trust it. I sense no lies in either of your words, but …."

"Yes, but …."

She stands and begins to whirl about the room laughing. I notice she is wearing a frilly lavender dress that does not seem to be something she would choose for herself.

"Erik! You must know better! Of course I didn't choose it. Your father sent it to me. It belonged to Gwendyn."

In a swirl of lavender lace, Christine waltzes back to the table and sits.

"So, do you think we've kept the kitchen staff waiting long enough?"

"Yes, I imagine we are all hungry."

He rings the bell and servants begin serving breakfast.

My father is in high spirits and Christine responds to his witty remarks in kind.

I, on the other hand, feel uneasy. Something is not right. Everything I thought I knew about my father seems to be wrong. The man I had researched so carefully is not the same man sitting next to me. This man is the father I had always dreamed of having.

Christine interrupts my thoughts with a few of her own.

"My dearest, us finding one another has changed more than us. As stone cast into still water creates rings of ripples extending ever outwards, so our joining affects those around us. Another analogy would be a line of dominoes. Knock down the first in the line and the rest fall one at a time. So, accept that this is the man who is your father. The man who existed before is no more. You both deserve this."

"All right, beloved. I will accept the way things are now and hope this is the way things remain."

"I am so happy, I feel like dancing." She says aloud.

"Soon you shall, my dear. We will have a small reception after your wedding and we shall have music and dancing."

"Please, sir. There is so little time to plan. You do not need to go to any trouble."

"Trouble? My only child marries and his intended worries they cause me trouble. Silly child. This is an unexpected joy. I, too, feel like dancing. I feel better than I have in a long time. I believe the cloud that has hung over the family de Mornay has at long last lifted. And I have the two of you to thank for that. Trouble, indeed!"

I have the father of my dreams and a love I never dreamed possible. I enjoy the good food set before me and listen as my father makes plans with my beloved for our wedding.

"Gentlemen, would you please excuse me?"

We both rise as she leaves the table.

"You are very quiet."

"Just savoring the moment. Watching and listening to the two of you … I am truly happy."

"Then I am happy as well."

We smile and return to our food.

Christine waltzes back into the room. She has changed her clothes. She is wearing a slate gray cloak and as she spins I see the cloak has a silver lining. I catch sight of a silver-gray ruffled blouse and a charcoal gray skirt beneath the cloak.

"Gentlemen! I feel so much better. No offense, monsieur, but Gwendyn's taste in clothing and mine are worlds apart. How do I look?"

She removes the cloak with a flip and a flourish.

My father gasps. What I had taken for a skirt is actually a type of wide-legged trousers I have never seen before.

"They are called, "gaucho pants." As long as I leave on my cloak, I can pass as wearing a skirt. This way when I ride, I need not do it side-saddle. And, today, we need to go ride, Erik. After we speak with Christine, we ride to Rennes and from there we take the train to Paris. We must not allow de Chagny to bring the battle here. We must keep him off-balance and unsure as to where Christine is. We take the battle to him in Paris away from Christine and little Erik! We will sow false trails for his lackeys to follow all leading away from Montmuran. Christine needs time to regain her strength. As does little Erik. And we need time to arrange for her triumphant return to the stage!"

She takes my breath away! The boldness of her plan is wise as well. While my father and I had thought we had perhaps a week before word of Christine's whereabouts reached Raoul, if we acted instead of waiting we could manipulate events and perhaps conceal her whereabouts indefinitely. Perhaps.

My father's face has gone ashen.

"But, my dear, what of your wedding?"

"Oh, have no fear, good monsieur. I shall allow your son no excuse. He will make an honest woman of me on Christmas morning." Her gay laugh infects the both of us. My father breathes a sigh of relief.

"I feared you intended to postpone the event."

"Not I! Monsieur, I only wish Christmas were today, but we must deal with de Chagny once and for all. Then we may all live in peace. Then …."

She halts mid-sentence and her eyes seek mine.

"Dearest …."

"I know, beloved. I will ask for you."

She smiles her gratitude and I walk to my father.

"Monsieur, may I ask a favor of you?"

"Of course, my son. I would deny you nothing. Anything you ask within my power to grant is yours."

"Father, I require no physical thing. I require a favor. I ... no, we ask, would you watch over Trystin and Cecile while we are in Paris?"

His eyes shine, his head lifts and his chest swells.

"Oh, my son!" He turns to me. "And, you! My daughter! Come here!"

Christine takes her place at my side and we both face my father.

"I would be truly honored to care for your child, my daughter. My son, I will protect your friend and your child with my life. On my word, no harm shall befall them so long as there is breath in my body."

He embraces Christine and kisses her on the cheek. Then he hugs me tightly and whispers, "God bless you, son. Take care and return in time for your nuptials."

"We will, father. I want this lady as my wife more than you will ever know."

His response is a smile and a knowing wink. I am most fortunate in that Christine does not see either.

"Sir? Trystin will wish to be our flower girl. Could you find a suitable dress for her? In fact, I have very little appropriate clothing for her to wear here. Cecile can help you with regards to clothing and looking after her. I have one more thing to ask. By bringing her here, I have effectively removed her from school. Could you find a tutor for her? She is very bright. Her favorite subject is mathematics."

"I will teach her myself, child. Have no fear. She will be cherished here."

"Thank you! You are very generous! That relieves me of a great burden. I will not worry so much if I know she is here."

"When will they arrive?"

"We will go and bring them back with us after we speak with Christine. Come, dearest! We have a busy day before us! By your leave, Monsieur."

He nods to Christine.

"Father, excuse us please?"

"Of course! Go! The sooner you finish speaking with the Vicomtessa, the sooner I get to meet Trystin."