Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Forty-Three – Two Bits …

Before we have time to blink and regain our composure, a small body tackles us.

"Mommy!"

I hear the joyous sound of my daughter's voice and I blink rapidly. My sight clears and I am pleased find we are exactly where I told the door to take us. Erik gives me a pleased look.

"It seems to be getting easier to cross. Is that because you are directing us?"

"Perhaps. Or maybe the cosmos has become used to us crossing. I do not know. We may never know."

Releasing Erik's hands, I bend down and lift T into my arms.

"So, did you pack all of the things I told you?"

"Yep! CeCe helped me."

Erik and I look at one another.

"CeCe?" We both say at the same time.

Trystin giggles and says, "Jinx! Oh, that's what I call Madame. And made up the way to spell it, too! C – E – C– E. Whatcha think?"

"Very nice."

I am grinning at the look of disbelief on Erik's face.

"CeCe, alright. Any other changes around here since we've been gone?"

"Yep. I let CeCe borrow some of your clothes, mom."

"Well, that's okay."

"I hope it is Christine."

I turn in the direction of Madame's voice and can hardly believe what I see. Madame Giry is wearing a pair of my jeans and a Green Day t-shirt. She lifts her hand to Erik and me.

"Hey!"

I quickly look down at the floor and cover my mouth with my fist to stop the fit of hysterical laughter that I feel is about to erupt. It is a toss-up over which is funnier: Madame's attire and greeting or Erik's expression.

As soon as I regain my composure, I lift my head and say, "Hey, Gurl! Wha'sup?"

Trystin's lesson on cool must have consisted solely of the greeting for Madame appears at a loss on what to say.

"Never mind. Don't worry about it. You did great!" I tell her.

She clears her throat and looks down at the clothes.

"Trystin said you wouldn't mind if I borrowed these. I hope she was right."

"I am very pleased you could find something that fits you."

"You have a very interesting wardrobe, my dear. All of your trousers are the same length, but the waist is 26 on some and on others it's 34. Are those the clothes you wore when you were pregnant?"

"No, Madame. My late husband and I were the same height, but not the same weight. The smaller size is mine. The larger size is his."

"Oh. I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to bring up sad memories."

Trystin hearing her words, says, "Oh! It's okay. Daddy's not sad any more. He knows that Erik is here to love me and mommy now."

Erik walks to her and gathers her up into his arms.

"And my little angel, where's my hug?"

"I left it in the closet. Do you want to go with me to get it?"

"Of course, which room?"

"My room!"

"I am yours to command, Mademoiselle!"

Off the two of them go and after a moment I hear the heavenly music of Erik's rumbling laugh and Trystin's giggles.

"T! We leave in 20 minutes. Look around and make sure you didn't forget anything. I'm not sure how long we'll be gone, so over-packing is okay. Make sure you bring your tooth brush, tooth paste, shampoo and hair brush, too. Okay? Oh! Don't forget to bring your school books!"

"'kay!"

I smile at Madame.

"I've missed her so much. Thank you for watching over her. Is everything alright at school? Any messages I need to know about?"

"School has been fine. Miss Becker says she misses you volunteering every morning and hopes things settle down soon. There were some calls about repairs. I had to call the plumber twice. And, we fill the courtyard fountain this morning. Other than that everything has been very nice and very quiet."

"Cecile, if we decide to stay in this time, you have a job at my company if you wish."

"Well, we will see, but thank you."

"Do you have everything you want packed?"

"Yes. I am ready. Where exactly are we going?"

"You and Trystin will be staying with Erik's father at Château de Montmuran. Christine de Chagny and her newborn son, Erik are also guests at the château. I believe Etienne de Wolfe will be a frequent visitor. Doctor de Wolfe is a physician and he delivered baby Erik. He is keeping a very close eye on the Vicomtessa. Erik and I will be leaving for Paris as soon as the four of us return. We will be attempting to create confusion over Christine's whereabouts by creating false trails and rumors. We also intend to pay a visit to the Conservatoire and the Opera House. Christine, Erik and I plan to produce an opera and we need to make arrangements with the composer, Léo Delibes. You've heard of him? He writes beautiful ballets. Perhaps, you would be interested in being our ballet mistress?"

"We shall see, my dear. We shall see."

"Well, I believe I shall take a shower. That and hair shampoo are the two things I miss the most when I'm in your time. I shouldn't be long."

"Take your time, my dear. Why don't you have Erik join you? I'm certain that he wouldn't mind scrubbing your back for you."

"Why Cecile Giry! I do believe you are condoning our illicit love affair! Why next you'll tell me you are for the equality of women!"

"No, my dear. I simply wish for my boy's happiness."

"You aren't that much older than Erik. How can you think of him as a son? I was 12 years older than Erik and I wanted him from the first moment I saw him. Wait. I was older than you! You never wanted him?"

"Oh, my dear, no. I was much too afraid of him. Also, I pitied him and he knew it. He had a quick temper before you came into his life. He never murdered anyone, but I often feared he would. Besides, I knew there was someone for him somewhere and I knew it was not me. For a time, I thought it might be Christine Daae, but he did not love her. Her cared for her as a brother does a sister, but no more than that. I believe he knew you existed. Somewhere deep down in his secret heart. He either knew you were out there or he dreamed you and you came into being through the force of his will. Either way, I never loved him as you do nor did I want him. I remember the first time I saw the two of you together outside my door. My heart said a perfect match, but my head panicked and thought he had kidnapped you. It seems so long ago."

"It does indeed with the way time seems to hopping back and forth, I wouldn't even be able to tell you exactly how long it has been since Erik and I met. I would have to sit down with Erik and it would take the two of us to figure it out. All I know is regardless of how many days I've known him, each one makes my love for him grow stronger and deeper."

"I wish the two of you many happy days. Now, off to your shower. I will fetch Erik for you and keep Trystin occupied for awhile."

"Yes, Madame!"

The bathroom is neat and clean. The door easily slides open and I turn on the hot water. The water needs to run a little while before it gets hot, so I brush my teeth while I wait. At last the water is hot and I am ready to jump in. There is a knock at the door and I scramble into the shower and slide the door closed.

As I adjust that water temperature, I call out, "Yes!"

Erik opens the door a few inches and says, "May I come in?"

"I don't know." I sing out playfully. I quickly change my tune as I see the door begin to close. "Oh, Erik! I'm only teasing!" I am pleased to discover that the teasing is mutual. Erik quickly slips into the room.

"I have been told I need to have my back scrubbed." He says. "And that you may be available to perform this service. May I inquire as to your availability?"

Hearing the laughter in his voice fills me with joy. I had been hiding my worry over his mental state after the incident in the storeroom. His mind feels clear and happy. "Bless, Trystin." I think.

In response to his inquiry, I slide open the shower door and say, "Please come in! I just had a cancellation."

"One moment, please." He says. I see he is still dressed, so I close the door again.

As I wait for him to disrobe, I wash my hair. It feels so good. The shampoos of Erik's time are so close to soap that after washing your hair you have to put oil in it to give it shine. And, of course, the oil attracts dirt so … vicious circle. Also, the hair styles of his time are so restrictive. Having all of this long, lovely hair and then having to keep it plaited and wound about my head! What a waste! I rinse the last of the suds from my hair and then work the conditioner onto the bottom half of my hair. I unconsciously begin singing as I rinse the conditioner from my hair. I find myself singing, The Point of No Return. I love that I can sing both male and female parts without changing keys or pitch.

The door slides open and Erik peeks in.

"Madame, your range makes me superfluous." He smiles.

"Never, sir. I cannot sing both parts of the duet, so you are definitely necessary. Won't you come in, my dearest?"

He is so tall he has to duck his head as he enters the shower. This is the first time I have ever seen him walking about unclothed. All of our previous encounters began clothed and ended under blankets. I had always thought him beautiful before, but now I can truly admire just how masculine his body is. His neck is thick and muscled. Those muscles seem to run the length of his body. His chest powerful and firm, but natural power not a chiseled Narcissus. His waist is surprisingly small and hips slim. The flow of muscle continues in his buttocks through his thighs and end at his calves. He is truly delicacy upon which I wish to feast.

"Why is it that I feel like a fly being invited into the spider's parlor?"

"I think you must have unconsciously heard something I just thought about you."

"And what was that?"

"I thought that you are a delicacy upon which I wish to feast."

"Madame, I am yours to consume."

He enters the stream of water with me and for a brief wonderful time we lovingly consume one another.

Later, we scrub one another and I wash his hair. At last, I am finished. He however, needs a shave. I dash out of the shower to the sink vanity and return with a mirror, shaving cream and razor. I hang the mirror on the hook my husband installed in the shower and then show Erik how to use the can of shaving cream and the razor. I feast upon one more of his sweet kisses then slide the door closed. I wipe up the water I've let drip onto the floor and then finish drying myself. I sigh and stretch enjoying the post-shower feeling of being reborn and the post-coital glow of our lovemaking. I savor the moment as I know just how few and fleeting they are.

I take a hand towel and wipe the steam from the mirror over the vanity. I look at my reflection in the mirror and shake my head. I'm 24 years old again! I realize that I haven't really looked at myself in the mirror since the transformation. I wipe more steam from the mirror so I can see all of my reflection. Amazing! No more gray hair, my breasts sit high on my chest, my belly is flat, my butt is firm, the few dimples on the backs of my thighs are gone, the surgical scar on my abdomen is gone, my laugh lines are gone and so are the two small furrows between my brows. I look at my left thigh then lift my right arm and smile. Good my birth marks are still there. Have to keep some of my flaws! I lift my chin and frown. The scar on my chin is gone, but the memory is still there.

"Great! I'm a walking paradox!" I mutter.

Overall though, I'm pretty pleased with my reflection.

"I can live with it." I laugh.

"What's so funny out there?" Erik calls from the shower.

"I am."

"Why?"

"I just looked myself over in the mirror for the first time since … you know."

"And that's funny?" He sounds truly perplexed, poor dear.

"It's female thing. Don't worry. I don't want to change a thing. I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." I towel dry my hair and then begin to comb it.

"Good."

The shower door slides open and he steps out into the room. The sight of him takes my breath away. I shake my head and finish my hair. I take one of the robes from the back of the door and toss it to Erik.

"If we are ever going to leave, you had better put this on." I sigh and shake my head regretfully. I don the other robe and kiss his cheek.

"I'm going to go get dressed in the bedroom. I love you." And after giving him a playful squeeze, I leave the bathroom.

My closet is full of clothes I no longer wear, but I keep all of my vintage clothing in one special spot in the corner of the closet. I pull down the garment bar and swing out the rack. I flip through the clothes and finally decide on a pair of dark brown gaucho pants and an ivory peasant blouse.

"Cecile, can you help me for a moment?"

After a few moments, she comes into my bedroom. She is wearing her skirt and blouse once more.

"How can I help you, my dear?"

"Can you lace my corset?"

"Of course. How was your shower?"

"Relaxing and refreshing, thank you."

"So, have the two of you decided when you will marry?"

"Why, yes, we have. We are to be married on Christmas day. How did you know?"

"Erik has never been a very patient man. I am surprised he has agreed to wait that long. Isn't your relationship difficult?"

"Not really. I was only there two nights and we managed not to ruin my reputation. But, I can see where, how should I put it … things may become difficult."

She laughs and pulls the laces tight on my corset.

"So, where will you two be married?"

"Erik's father asked us to be married at the Château's chapel and Erik agreed. I am so pleased that the two of them have buried the past. Truly, Erik has forgiven his father and," I pause considering our link, "yes, he loves his father. We learned things about his mother that gave Erik peace about her as well. Unfortunately, she died just a few months ago. Jean-Paul's wife, Gwendyn died last December and Jean-Paul married Genevieve before she died. Pretty amazing, huh?"

"Very. He married a scullery maid?"

"No. He married the woman he had loved and treated as his wife the entire time he was married to Gwendyn. He loved Genevieve very much and I believe that if Erik and he had not made their peace, Jean-Paul would have died before the year was out. When I first arrived, he looked so frail and sickly and this morning, he looked very robust and healthy. He knows everything. We told him this morning and we found out that Erik inherited his ability to quiet talk from his father. His father is a soothsayer. He believes us. He told me that he would tutor Trystin while she is there. He is so excited about being a grandfather. He knows that you are coming too. I believe you will be quite comfortable and happy there."

"Everything is going very well then."

"Yes. I keep waiting for something to go wrong. I'm not used to things being this wonderful."

"My dear, have you ever considered that both you and Erik have suffered enough? I think that it is time for both of you to find what you both have been searching for your entire lives."

"And what is that?"

She sighs. "You both seek a happily ever after."

I have no response to that. Erik enters the room wrapped in a robe.

"I laid out fresh clothes for you in the den, Erik."

He looks sharply at Madame and then at me.

"Is everything alright, beloved?" He thinks to me.

"Yes, my dearest. She is just trying to get all the latest news out of me and make certain that everything is alright. Go on and get dressed. We leave as soon as we're dressed." I respond silently.

"Well, I'll leave you ladies to your gossip."

Madame opens her mouth to reply and then her mouth snaps shut. She turns to me.

"You told him and I couldn't hear? I couldn't see it on your faces either. The two of you really aren't two anymore are you? The two of you ... your bond is ... is it now complete? When did this happen?"

"I shall answer your questions in the order asked. Yes. No. Yes, I think. At sunrise this morning."

"I am very happy for you, my dear."

"Thank you. We are happy as well, but I need to teach Erik how to deal with my empathy. We had a rather frightening experience in a storeroom of the château just before we arrived."

I proceed to tell her the entire story of my rape and murder and Erik's attempt at suicide.

"You realize, of course, that the spirit played upon Erik's secret fear. Erik fears that he could lose control and kill. He has always feared himself more than any other person."

"I know that. The one constant in Erik's life is people telling him that he is a monster. He heard it so often a part of him believes it. A part of him will always believe it. However, I know that he is wrong. He is a good man, damaged by the world he lived in, but we are one now and we do not kill. I, too, have always known that a dark violence lives within me. I believe that of the two of us, I am the one that is capable of killing, not Erik. What he has felt and feared his entire life is my violence, not his. Together we are stronger than alone. We heal one another. I have said all I intend to say of this matter. We will not speak of this again."

Turning away from Madame, I sit on the bed and bend to pull on my boots. My abruptness stuns her, but she is not my mother and I need not explain any more to her. Enough talking, it is now time to act.

I hear the voice speak clearly within my mind, "You were rude and cruel. She will become as frightened of you as she is of Erik. It is your guilt that causes this. You did not kill her. Her death is not your fault. I bent God's rule as far as I dare that day, but it was not your fault that you did not interpret the dream correctly. I am truly sorry I could not help you more that day, but it was her time. It was the last lesson. She choose, not you. Now it is up to you to learn, live, love and grow. You are complete! Do not let all you have slip away to anger. Love."

I want to ignore the voice. It is easier, so much easier to spiral down into the morass of self-pity and loathing. A familiar comfort. Yet, feeling Erik's presence in my mind, I know I cannot take him down with me. I must chart a new course and take its first steps here. Finishing with my boots, I inspect myself in the mirror. I can feel Cecile behind me staring at me.

"I was rude. My remark was uncalled for and I apologize. I felt as if I had lied to you. My first child, Adrianna, I have always felt I killed her. And when I said we do not kill that my words were a lie. It was my guilt over her death that provoked me. There are some things even true love cannot completely heal." I smile wanly at her.

"My dear, thank you for telling me. I could hear the lie in your words and did not know what to think." She comes to me and does the one perfect thing she could do, she held out her arms to me. Allowing her embrace, it reminds me of my mother and I begin to cry. She strokes my hair and murmurs words of comfort. An unreleased torrent of tears and sorrow flow from my eyes and she takes it all. She takes it and soothes it. And lets me know that it is all right for me to have these feelings. That even though I feel this way. I am wrong. It is not my fault and it is time to let go. Time to concentrate on the living and not on the dead. It is a good thing to grieve, but grieve and move on. Most of all, she silently gives me permission to be imperfect.

As the realization enters my mind, I start and slip from her embrace. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and thank her.

"Nonsense, my child, you never did that after they died did you?" She reaches into her bodice, withdraws a handkerchief and offers it to me.

"No. I never did. Never had anyone who offered me a place to do it. No, thank you." I walk to the nightstand and take two tissues out of the box. I wipe my eyes and then blow my nose. As I toss the tissue into the waste paper basket, I shrug.

"It would be a shame to soil it, especially since we don't have time to launder it before we go."

We smile at one another. This time our embrace brings comfort to us both.

"Thank you for not jumping to conclusions and thinking … well, you know."

"My dear, I was mostly concerned because of your sudden change. I have never seen you like that. I suppose Erik needs to teach you some things as well."

She smiles at my confusion.

"He needs to teach you about how to handle his mercurial moods."

This time we both smile.

"Where is he anyway?" I stamp my booted foot with feigned petulance, which brings a soft chuckle from Cecile.

And, right on cue, Erik enters the room carrying Trystin upon his back, one suitcase under an arm and a suitcase in each hand.

"Is this all of them?" He groans theatrically.

His eyes fall on me. His silent words form within my head. "I felt your distress and thought you might need some time. Are you all right now? Are you both all right?"

"Yes. Yes. She is a very special person."

"Believe me I know it more than most." His simple words belie the depth of his feelings. "She is watching us, ma chére cœur."

"I know. And even though it was uncomfortable for her, I believe she misses the quiet talks with you. Just woman's intuition."

He repeats, "Madame! Is this all of the bags?"

She nods.

"Well, I believe it is time to be going now."

"Let me take one last look around the place. You know, make sure everything is in order."

He sets the bags down and Trystin continues to remain perched on his back. I give her butt a soft pat as I walk by.

"Everything double-checked and in order. Let's go!"

Erik and I stand facing one another. We place the luggage on the floor between us and then Cecile and Trystin. Everything is within the circle of our clasped hands.

We raise our eyes to meet.

I open the door and we travel.

A gentle far-off rumble of thunder.