Christine dans Deux
An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2006
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Seventy – Fragments of Song
She is too young to be this sad. I am powerless to comfort her. She believes I must hate her or at the very least be jealous of her. Her belief could not be further from the truth. I love her and my heart breaks for her. Suddenly, I am compelled to sing a song from my time to Christine and hope it brings her comfort.
"Why am I so nervous?
Please explain to me why I can't sleep?
I close my eyes to shelter, in the dark I try to hide.
If you leave me on my own,
I'm worried I could lose my way.
In my mind, confusion,
I see you everywhere, but we don't speak.
I try so hard to touch you, but you're always out of reach.
If you walked right by, would I see it in your eye?
Would you turn away?
Seems to me I've been a long time on this road.
Has there been a sign, another way and I've passed it by?
I don't know what it is that drives me on.
Gotta keep movin'!
Gotta keep movin' on!
Bring it on home!
Let's bring it on home – your love.
Bring it on home!
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Bring it on home!
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Down parallel lines –
Don't question faith –
Don't answer lies –
Tell me why I'm nervous.
Please explain to me, why I can't sleep?
Please explain to me, why you're always out of reach?
If the water ran dry, would I see it in your eye?
Would you walk away?
It seems to me I've been a long time on this road
and I wonder why?
Has there been a sign that points another way
and I've passed it by?
I don't know what it is that drives me on.
Gotta keep movin'!
Gotta keep movin' on!
Bring it on home (straight lines before my eyes.)
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Bring it on home (straight lines before my eyes.)
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Bring it on home (straight lines before my eyes.)
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Down parallel lines –
Don't question faith –
Don't answer lies –
You know you gotta keep movin'!
Bring it on home (straight lines before my eyes.)
Let's bring it on home, your love.
Bring it on home (straight lines before my eyes.)
Let's bring it on home, your love."
– "Nervous" Words and Lyrics by "The Moody Blues"
As the song ends, so does the compulsion to sing.
"That was weird."
☼●□●☼●□●☼
However, I reconsider my words as I feel Christine's reaction to the song. I feel she has a new sense of hope, a possibility for the future and I sense she found a small degree of comfort.
My thoughts become distracted as a voice whispers to me in the silent corner of the mind I currently share. The whispers seem to offer secretive, seductive answers to many unvoiced questions. Each answer holds the key to open a door. Behind each door lies a slightly different possibility of the path our life can take. The factor deciding which door opens is choice, so all that remains is for me to choose. By making my choice, I commit myself to the door, but I take comfort in the knowledge that it is always possible to change the path. No conclusion is ever inevitable. Such is the gift (and curse) of free will.
"Which choice is the best one for all concerned? Please, help me. I've never asked for help before this moment and I ask not for myself, but for Christine. Please, help me to help her make the right choice."
I am surprised to discover my disappointment when my plea meets with a stony silence, which stretches along for several painful minutes.
"Please?"
"Perhaps, the best choice for all concerned is not yours to make, dolly girl. She needs to choose. This is her time to do so. It is your time to lend aid and support her choice. Remember this is her time, not yours. Do not fear, my dolly girl. I am almost certain that your time will come. Be strong for her, she needs you."
"Grandpa, is it really you? Oh! How I've missed you so! I love you! I will remember, I promise. If I give Christine her time, will that help the certainty of mine coming to pass?"
"It is I, my child. I have missed you as well and I will always love you. It is forbidden to answer such questions, but I can say this much … you are well on the way to the road home. I know you'll do the right thing, dolly girl. I can only offer her and you this small hope … love never dies. Tell her love never dies."
"I will, Grandpa. I will. I love you!"
"And, I love you, little dolly girl. Farewell."
His presence disappears before I can say anything more.
☼●□●☼●□●☼
"Christine, we need to talk."
We stand before the mirror in the bedroom we share with her infant son. Feeling her apprehension, I attempt to put her at ease by allowing a kind smile to touch our lips.
"Yes, we do." She hesitantly begins, and then continues. "You've been so kind to me. You've given up so much to help me and I feel as if I've betrayed you. Telling you that I am sorry seems so inadequate, but I am."
"Christine, you have done nothing that warrants an apology to me. The father of your son is not my Erik. The man you promised to love and whom pledged his love to you in return is not my Erik. My Erik left his home under the opera house the night Raoul forced you to choose between Erik's life and your freedom. It was on that night that he and I met. With the exception of the time he spent bringing you here, he and I have not been apart. Well, physically apart anyway. Right now, my body is with him, but my mind is with you. My Erik never made love to you, nor does he have any memory of loving you. The only emotions he feels for you are the love of a brother and guilt over failing to save you from Raoul. Of this, I am certain, so please do not think I hate you. I do not. Nor do I feel jealous."
"When he arrives here, will he know about Erik-Gustave?"
"No and I am afraid that I must leave that to you to tell him. I do have something that I would like to ask you."
"Of course, what would you like to know?"
"No, it's nothing like that. Would you be my matron of honor?"
"What?"
"I have no one here, no family except for Trystin. I've told you how I met Erik and that I am not from your world or time. There is no one I would rather have stand next to me than you when Erik and I wed. Please, Christine? Would you be my matron of honor? I would be so happy if you would."
A radiant smile blesses the face in the mirror as she replies.
"Yes and it is I who am honored. Oh, this is so exciting! I can't wait for you to arrive! I am going to give you the biggest hug you've ever had!"
As if to demonstrate her wish, she wraps her arms tightly around her body and squeezes.
"When will they arrive?"
I close my eyes and reach out to Erik's mind.
"They're close. I wouldn't be at all surprised if they arrived by tomorrow night."
"I'm so happy I can barely wait to see you again. I mean, this is nice, but, well, you must admit, it is rather strange."
"Strange? Yes, strange does describe it. However, the word I would use is weird, which means strange or unusual. It also means belonging to or suggesting the supernatural and relating to or influenced by fate, both of which are appropriate."
"Weird. It feels right. Alright, weird it is then!"
"Christine, there is one more thing I need to tell you."
"Why does this worry me?"
"You have no reason to worry. It is about your Erik."
Her smile falters.
"What about my Erik?"
"Just remember, my sister, love never dies and loving someone can never be a bad thing. As long as we remember them, they are never really gone. I know you would prefer being able to touch him, but you will meet with him again. Rest assured of that. I promise."
"You can promise me that?" She whispers.
"Oh, yes. I most definitely can. Also, please do not feel guilt over your feelings for Etienne. Loving Etienne does not betray Erik. He is gone. He would not wish for you to spend the rest of your life alone, nor would he wish for his son to grow up without a father. I am certain that in lieu of being here himself, he would approve of your relationship with Etienne. Etienne is a good man, Christine. You are good for one another."
"Yes, I think he is very special."
"Well, I expect you to return the favor to me someday."
"Favor, Chris? What favor is that?"
"I expect you to ask me to be your matron of honor when the two of you marry."
I grin as the face in the mirror blushes beet red and she giggles.