The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
A Lost Chord
Seated one day at the Organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
and my fingers wandered idly
over the noisy keys.
I do not know what I was playing,
or what I was dreaming then;
but I struck one chord of music,
like the sound of a great Amen.
It flooded the crimson twilight,
like the close of an Angel's Psalm,
and it lay on my fevered spirit
with a touch of infinite calm.
It quieted pain and sorrow,
like love overcoming strife;
it seemed the harmonious echo
from our discordant life.
It linked all perplexed meanings
into one perfect peace,
and trembled away into silence
as if it were loth to cease.
I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
that one lost chord divine,
which came from the soul of the Organ,
and entered into mine.
It may be that Death's bright angel
will speak in that chord again,
it may be that only in Heaven
I shall hear that grand Amen.
Adelaide Procter
Chapter Thirty-One – A Lost Chord
The door creaked on its rusty hinges and a young man exited the house by the lake. Christine looked up through eyes almost blinded by tears. She turned away to gaze upon the unconscious man in her arms and then back at her angel.
"Why?"
"I did nothing, child. He has many demons, which he does not acknowledge. Many battles he has left unfought, choosing to hide away in loneliness and solitude. Finding love is something he never believed he would do. The mere fact that you are here with him and love him and he loves you, well, his heart knows he has found it. However, it is in his mind. It is his mind wherein all of his troubles lie. He is an extraordinarily intelligent man, and love is not an equation, nor is it possible to draw a blueprint for love. Love is emotion and therefore, illogical. That frightens him. You responded emotionally to the music, child. As did he at first, I might add. However, as soon as he gave vent to his jealousy, his mind took over from his heart. He felt the music would take you away from him, so he rejected the music. The music became the enemy, but his soul knows better. A battle within ensued and he does not even realize he had no other enemy other than himself. Here, let me take him into the house and he can recuperate while we talk."
The ethereal being who once was her father, bent down and held out his arms to Christine. She allowed the angel to take her husband's limp form into his arms and she smiled tremulously.
"You promise me that no further harm shall come to him? I could not bare it if something were to happen to him."
She unconsciously bit her lower lip and twisted a curl in her fingers. The angel smiled.
"Christine, I promise."
He lifted the insensible man from the ground, turned and walked into the house with Christine following closely behind him. Christine found the house by the lake amazed her in its exactness to the one she had lived in with her father. Everything exactly the same, down to the most minute detail. The voice of her angel interrupted her silent reverie.
"He is resting in the bedroom. If he calls out, we shall hear him." He paused for a moment before continuing. "You do realize that it is this way because this is how you remember it, do you not?"
"I beg your pardon?" She sputtered.
"The house, all of these things … they are the way they are because I drew them from your memory. I thought it would place you at ease being in a familiar place. I believe I explained this to you the last time you visited me."
"Yes, I remember. It still does not make it any less disconcerting. I am uncertain as to why you would believe I would find it comforting. Papa, you do remember you died in this house, do you not? I spent two days alone with you in this house before Madame came for me. Have you truly forgotten how lost and alone I was?" She shook her head sorrowfully. "You can no longer truly be my Papa. You really are the Angel of Music now."
"Yes, child. I can only vaguely remember those times now. I am sorry if I cause you distress, but I know no other way to fulfill my promise to you. The world needs you to hear the music once again. The world needs for you to fill it with your song. Actually, the world needs you and your husband."
She interrupted his words.
"Erik? The world needs his music as well?"
"Yes. Only together, can your song truly take wing and fly to the heavens. In order for that to happen, we must heal the hurts of his soul. Are you familiar with the seven deadly sins, child?"
"Of course, Papa … I mean, yes, Angel. I know what they are. They are Luxuria, Gula, Avaritia, Acedia, Ira, Invidia and Superbia.¹ Why?"
"Your husband's immortal soul is in danger. He suffers under the sway of all seven of these sins and we must bring him back from the brink of disaster. He cannot find his way to hear the music while under the sway of these sins."
"I do not know what to do. I am not without sin, so who am I to cast the first stone?²"
Her angel shook his head.
"You misunderstand me, child. It is not with blame that he shall heal, but with love. He needs to learn that one lost chord that holds the key to music in his mind. If he learns that chord, he can unlock the music. Once he accepts the music, then the love shall find the way into his soul, heart and mind."
"And, how shall I go about accomplishing this task?"
"How did you overcome your sins, child? You suffered under the weight of most of the deadly sins, yet now you are free. What weapon did you use to battle these threats to your immortal soul?"
Christine sighed and stared at the floor. After a time of quiet reflection, she felt the moment of epiphany open her eyes.
"My weapons were hope and faith, Angel. The weapons given to me by my Papa."
The angel smiled sadly and nodded.
"Yes, child. Now, you must help your husband learn how to wield these in his battle. Do you know how to teach him?"
She nodded gently and smiled as a sweet relief flooded her face.
"Yes. I teach him through my love."
The Angel of Music smiled at the young woman who he knew once was his daughter and, not for the first time, wished he could truly remember how it felt when he was her Papa.
"Child?"
"Yes, Angel?"
"While he sleeps, I believe it is the best time to attempt reaching his soul. I would like to play something and have you sing. What would you like to sing for him?"
"Well, I have been listening to a song from the new production at the opera house, which I quite like. It is from the first act of a new opera, "Pagliacci."
The angel nodded, leaned over and picked up his violin.
"You may begin whenever you are ready, child."
The young woman stood near the armchair by the fireplace and placed her hand on the back of the chair. She rolled her head to loosen the muscles in her neck. Cleared her throat and then looked to her angel.
"May I have a glass of water, please?"
A radiant smile shone from the gentle countenance.
"On the mantle behind you."
She sipped some water then swished some in her mouth and swallowed. She loudly cleared her throat and lightly licked her lips. She stood straight, squared her shoulders, planted her feet, set her head and jaw at the proper angles, flexed her diaphragm muscles, drew a practice breath and released it.
"I am ready, Angel." She inhaled and began.
The sweet sound of the violin and the pure voice of the woman blended in perfect harmony.
"What fire there was in his look!
I lowered my eyes
for fear he should read
my secret thoughts.
Oh! If he caught me …
He's so brutal …
But enough: no more.
These are idle, fearful dreams!
O how glorious is the August sun!
I feel full of life, and, my senses glowing
with secret desire, I know not what I long for!
Oh what a flight of birds,
and what a chatter!
What do they seek? Where are they going?
Who knows?
My mother, who could tell fortunes,
understood their warbling,
and sang this song to me as a child:
Hey!
The birds chirp up aloft,
freely launched in flight like arrows.
They defy the clouds and the burning sun
and onward they fly
through the boundless sky.
Let them roam through the atmosphere,
ever eager for the glorious infinite blue:
They too follow a dream,
a chimera, as onward they fly
Through the gilded clouds.
Though the winds freshen
and the tempest roar,
with pinions spread, they brave all dangers;
rain or lightning, nothing defers them
and onward they fly
over abysses and oceans.
Onward they go to some strange land
of which perhaps they dream
and which they seek in vain.
But the gypsies of the sky
follow the mysterious power
which draws them …
onward … ever onward!"
Nedda's Aria – Act 1 – "Pagliacci" by Ruggero Leoncavallo³
Her voice soared to the heavens along with the birds, which longed for the freedom found only in the sky. It told of the thrill of following one's dreams, the beauty one can find in defying the odds, but most of all, her voice sang of hope.
¹ The seven deadly sins are Luxuria (archaic: extravagance – excessive love of physical comforts; modern: lust – excessive love of others), Gula (gluttony – archaic: overindulgence in any one thing; modern: overindulgence in food, drugs or alcohol), Avaritia (greed – excessive love of wealth or property), Acedia (sloth – archaic: an excess of apathy, depression or joylessness; modern: laziness, the purposeful failure to utilize one's talents and gifts), Ira (wrath – uncontrolled rage; the love of justice perverted to revenge, jealousy and spite), Invidia (envy – the desire for something that someone else has which one perceives oneself as lacking) and Superbia (pride – love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's fellow man).
² "So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." King James Bible, Chapter 8: Verse 7.
³ "Pagliacci" (Clowns) is an opera consisting of a prologue and two acts written and composed by Ruggero Leoncavallo. It recounts the tragedy of Canio, a jealous husband in a commedia dell'Arte troupe, Nedda, Canio's wife and Silvio, Nedda's lover. Pagliacci premiered at the Teatro Dal Verme in Milan on May 21, 1892, conducted by Arturo Toscanini.
Enrico Caruso played the role of Canio in "Pagliacci." The role was one of his signature roles.
Today, most critics agree that Leoncavallo received his inspiration for the libretto "Pagliacci" from an 1887 play by Catulle Mendès entitled, "La Femme de Tabarin."
Okay, so that's two for two on the dates, so I guess I must set this particular "Phantom" circa 1894.
Author's Note: Hope this didn't get too spiritual for anyone, but we are dealing with an Angel after all! Next chapter, Erik awakens, I promise! I've already done the most difficult part of each chapter and that's choosing the opening poem/lyric/proverb, the rest is easy …. Oh, what a liar I am! As always, please read and review! --ny