Christine dans Deux
An Alternate Multiverse – A Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2006
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Seventy-One – A Parting of the Ways
"Chris, it is time. I have been very selfish in keeping you from Erik. I feel how much you need to be with him and realize he must feel the same about you. I cannot allow my selfishness to hold you here any longer. I can never thank you enough for everything that you've done for me. I am certain that you changed the course of my life by being the one to speak with Raoul. If I had spoken with him, I do not believe the results would have been as favorable. I am certain that my constant indecisiveness would have goaded Raoul into anger and then I would have backed into my normal silence and just returned home with him. Now my future and the future of my children are secure. Raoul is gone and promises to leave me alone. You need not stay within me any longer. I will be all right. Besides, you should be arriving here at the house within the next day, so it's not as if we won't be seeing one another again."
I look up into the mirror once again. Being able to speak to our reflection provides me with the illusion of holding a conversation with another, separate person. Although Christine and I have not spoken of it, choosing to ignore the growing need, I have come to realize that the longer we share this body, the more our spirits begin to surrender to one another in an urge to merge into one being. An impulse both of us know we cannot allow. With a mental shove, I push the need to the side and it obeys, for the moment.
"I need to give Christine something to help keep her strong after I am gone." I think privately.
An idea arises. I turn and walk to the door leading to Theresa's small room. I knock softly. After a moment, the girl opens the door.
"Can you watch over Erik-Gustave, please? I should only be away about an hour or so."
"Oui, Madame. I am pleased to be of assistance to you. The babe is no trouble at all. He is such a sweet child."
"Thank you, Theresa."
We nod and leave the room.
"Where are we going?"
"Hush, Christine. Will you trust me, please?"
"Chris, you do not even need to ask. Of course I will trust you."
In silence, I guide this body that does not belong to me through the hallways and down the stairs to the foyer pausing only for an instant; I allow instinct to guide me. Turning about, I head down a hall off the foyer, which leads away from the study and dining room into an unused part of the chateau. At the end of the hall, I stop before a large, dark oak door. The door handle is a ring and it requires all of our strength and both hands to pull it open. Removing a torch from the wall, we enter the room.
"It's the ballroom." Christine breathes. "It's like something out of a fairy tale. It is so beautiful."
"Yes." I agree. "We are not here to dance though. Christine, you have always learned best when you were learning about music. I have something I wish to teach you. May I?"
"Do you really need to ask? Please, Chris. Rather, please, Maestro."
"Thank you, my dear." I murmur.
We walk around the ballroom, briefly touching the torch we carry to those on the walls of the room. The room soon is ablaze with the light of many torches. Quickly, I return the torch to its place in the hall and return to the ballroom, closing the door behind us. We lean against the door. Then after giving a small sigh, I lead us to the dais near the back of the room. Moonlight streams through the tall, mullioned multi-paned windows, which run along the rear of the dais. It is here on this dais that the musicians play as the revelers dance. There are several chairs and music stands here as well as the object, which brought me to this room in the first place, a grand piano. A dust sheet covers the piano, which I remove with a quick tug and toss to the floor. I lift the lid of the piano case and raise the support, then walk to the bench and sit. I open the keyboard, lift my hands to the keys and rest my fingers lightly upon the keys in a soft caress.
"Christine, what I teach you now is not proper breathing technique, not proper inflection nor, tonal quality. What I teach you tonight is emotional content. You must trust your emotions, your passions. You must believe in yourself. You must not allow the fear of making a mistake to cause you to make a mistake of an even grander scale, the mistake of allowing someone else to choose for you. Your indecision has always been your undoing. Listen and remember. You will never be alone again. For I leave a small part of me with you. When you feel afraid, lonely or unsure, remember this. I believe it will help you."
♫ ♪ ♫
Closing my mind's eye, I grant my now restless fingers their freedom and they begin the hauntingly grand introduction to the piece I hope will bring Christine comfort whenever she feels she has a need. I open my mouth and the lyrics flow through me with heart-felt passion into the quiet night of the chateau. I feel Christine listening intently, but soon my awareness of her fades, leaving only the music, just as it always does.
"When you're weary, feeling small,
when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
I'm on your side when times get rough.
And friends just can't be found
like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.
When you're down and out
when you're on the street
when evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
Oh, when darkness comes
and pain is all around,
like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.
Sail on silver girl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
Oh, if you need a friend,
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind."
– Music and Lyrics by Simon & Garfunkel
As the last note fades into memory, I find myself trembling with exhaustion and feel a bemused smile appear fleetingly across my lips.
"At least I put everything I have into it. Let's return to our room. I need a short rest and then we can continue our discussion, okay?"
"Whatever you need, Chris is fine with me. Here, let me. I'll get us back to our room. Don't worry about a thing."
As she speaks those words, I smile and nod.
"She's going to be all right." One last private thought before I open my mind to sleep.
♫ ♪ ♫
I awaken to hear Christine humming a gentle tune as she sits in a rocking chair and works on her son's christening gown. Her fingers deftly work the crochet hook and thread and I am embarrassed when my stretch interrupts her rhythm.
"So, you are awake, Chris. Thank you for the song. It is beautiful. I will always remember it and use it whenever I feel the need."
"You're welcome, Christine."
"So, let's do this before you arrive here at the chateau, shall we?"
"Very well, just be very sure you have no doubts, no backward glances."
She surprises me with a rather unladylike snort at my obvious use of one of Erik's favorite lyrical phrases.
"I am ready to be on my own, but I want to give you a gift before we split apart."
"A gift? That really isn't necessary."
"I know it is not, but it is what I truly wish to do."
"Far be it from me to turn down a present, but can't you just wait until I arrive to give it to me?"
"It's not that kind of gift. It's something personal, a little part of me."
"Hmm … that gives me an idea. I, too, would like to give you a parting gift."
We suddenly find lovely gift-wrapped boxes in our hands. I read the name tag on the box I hold and it says, "Christine de Chagny."
"This is for you, little sister."
"And, this is for you, big sister."
We exchange the boxes and giggle slightly as we stand facing one another for a moment.
"Well, you need to open the box before I leave as I am afraid it will disappear the moment I leave."
She replies, "Then the same is true for you."
Her hand falls to the bow and she pulls it. I turn my attention to the box from Christine, sliding the satin ribbon off the box and ripping the delicate floral pattern paper from the box. I open the box and find reams and reams of paper. Each paper contains the lyrics and vocal instructions for every opera Christine has ever learned.
"Oh, my Christine, thank you so much. Thank you!"
While I know that I will never be able to match her in the upper octaves, I now carry with me the knowledge of the spoken as well as lyrical dialogs of some truly wonderful operas.
I watch Christine as she opens the box containing my gift. She pulls three books from the box, reads the titles and begins to laugh huskily.
"The Confidence Plan: How to Build a Stronger You"by Tim Ursiny, "Tao of Jeet Kune Do" by Bruce Lee and "Unconditional Love: Love Without Limits"by John Joseph Powell. Okay, I get the messages, Chris and I promise that I will remember everything you taught me about self-defense."
"You'd better remember and you need to pass it on to your daughters. Don't ever let them think that it's okay to be a victim. Make sure they know that silence is the greatest ally of abuse and speech its deadliest enemy. Teach by example, Christine. Your life is the example for them. You have a lot of damage to repair, but you can do it. You are stronger than you know. Women can do anything that men can. It just sometimes takes us a little longer when we have to plan on how to move the heavy stuff."
"You are crazy, Chris. You do know that don't you?"
"I beg your pardon! I resemble that remark!"
After a confused moment, understanding flashes into her eyes and she laughs.
We reach for one another not completely ready to separate. We sink to the floor of Christine's bedroom and hold one another, preparing ourselves for the inevitable and necessary separation. I glance into the mirror and see our reflection. Christine sits cross-legged on the floor with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She sits and holds herself as her body rocks gently back and forth.
Together, we close our eyes for the last time.
"Fare thee well, Christine!"
"Bon au revoir, Chris!"