Warmth surrounded my entire body. I felt light and cozy, as though I was floating on a cloud. Beautiful music filled my ears with happiness, and I slowly began to stir. After listening to several more bars of the heavenly music, I opened my eyes to see Christine. She was sitting by my side looking down at me, and for a moment, just a moment, I thought it had all been a terrible nightmare, and Christine was my wife. Then the music stopped and I crashed down to reality. Christine left my side and walked over to Erik, who had turned to face us. He must have been playing the beautiful music on the piano that had lifted me out of my coma.
"Christine," he said, "please bring some tea."
"Of course," she said softly, leaving the room.
After watching Christine disappear, Erik returned his attention to me. He slowly stood from the piano bench and walked to my side. I shivered and recoiled slightly as he put one of his bony fingers on my left wrist to check my pulse. Next, he put his hand on my forehead, and nodded with approval.
"A little rest and you'll be fine."
"How? What? W-What am I doing here?" I asked groggily, trying to remember what had happened.
"Obviously you followed Christine here."
I gave him a puzzled look.
"I went outside, and I saw you huddled in the bushes. At first, I thought you had died from hypothermia, but I saw you shivering and realized I was wrong. Knowing you were Christine's childhood friend, I could not leave you outside to expire; it would have made her terribly unhappy. I brought you inside, and you have been lying here for approximately eight hours," he explained, with an amazingly calm tone. I had surely thought he would be outraged with me for intruding.
"Do not expect me to save your life again. I do not save anyone's life more than once. I strongly suggest that you do not follow Christine here again," Erik continued.
"Thank you," I said, rubbing my forehead.
"It was nothing," he said casually, as if saving lives was his new career. "Now, I suppose you should eat something. It is not healthy to go on an empty stomach when you are ill."
I watched him disappear into the same room Christine had gone into. I closed my eyes again and tried to remember how I got here. I had been taking a walk…and then I saw Christine. Suddenly it all came back to me. I remembered the boy with the note, I remembered following her through the dark passages. The frigidness of the lake made me shiver again, and I pulled the multi-colored Persian blanket up to my chin. Christine had sung…and then…I opened my eyes and my heart started pounding. Had they seen me? Did they know what I saw? I mentally berated myself for watching their most private, intimate act. How could I have done such a thing? Why did I not turn away? What had compelled me to watch?
My head jerked up as Erik and Christine returned. Christine was carrying a tray with a pot of tea, three teacups, and several fresh crepes.
"Are you all right?" Erik asked, noticing my flushed complexion.
"Oh, yes…" I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "This blanket is very warm and I was starting to get hot," I lied, pushing the warm patch of fabric off my body. I swung my legs off the cushion of the couch and planted them firmly on the floor. I wanted to run in horror for fear that they knew I had seen them. The last thing I wanted to do was to admit to seeing their passion. I wiped my brow, and smiled weakly at the couple.
Christine gave me a queer look, and set the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. She poured me a cup of tea, set it down in front of me, and gestured at the crepes, all while avoiding eye contact. Erik helped himself to his own tea and crepes, and then resumed his position on the piano bench. Christine took her tea and crepe and sat in her well-worn chair next to the piano.
The three of us sat in silence. Erik kept studying my behavior, Christine seemed fascinated by a spot on the carpet, and I tried to look as relaxed as humanly possible. I felt a little stronger after I had eaten, and Erik once again checked my vitals with all the professionalism of a well-schooled physician.
Erik suggested that I go take a hot bath, for it would help keep my body warm. He said due to my extended exposure to the damp air, I still had a small risk of developing pneumonia. He helped me stand from the couch, and I was amazed at the sheer strength his lean frame exhibited. I realized he must have carried me inside, which was impressive, considering I am six feet three inches tall and weigh a good two hundred pounds. I had never recognized Erik's height until now. I am by no means a short man, but Erik towered over me. I estimated him to be at least three inches taller that myself. I recalled how muscular his arms and legs had been in his state of undress, and was immediately jealous of his well-defined abdominal section. I vowed that I would begin exercising more often upon my recovery.
As I followed Erik down the hallway, I noticed the open door at the end of hall. It was dimly lit by a gas lamp, but I could still make out the vibrant crimson and black color-scheme of the well-decorated bedroom. Again, I was instantly jealous of the large, impeccably made oak canopy bed. The black satin comforter looked as though one might slip right off if they were not planted firmly into their position. I cringed as I imagined Erik's body entwined with Christine's on top of the welcoming black satin. The deep red pillows and the darkness of the comforter seemed to be mocking me, for they regularly felt the heat that Christine's lovely body produced.
I returned my attention to the door Erik had opened for me. The room was also a bedroom, which was decorated in light pink. Judging by the feminine décor, I decided this must have been the room Christine used to stay in while she received her music lessons. Happy and carefree, the room seemed perfect for the young innocent I had always pictured Christine to be. After last night's display of desire, I did not see Christine as the young innocent anymore. She was a woman filled with needs, and the crimson and black room seemed to fit her desires perfectly. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Christine had probably not shared her passion with Erik in this room.
Erik led me through the bedroom and into an elegant cream-colored bathroom. He lit the tall, free-standing gas lamp in the corner, and gestured to the variety of bath soaps and oils.
"Use whatever you like. I will be right back with some clothing," he said, exiting the room.
It wasn't until that moment that I realized I was not in the clothes I had left my home in the day before. I was wearing a long royal blue robe. The robe must have belonged to Erik, for the hem grazed the tops of my feet and the sleeves were too long. Erik appeared in the doorway, and chuckled.
"I'm afraid I'm unusually tall; none of my clothes will fit you properly," he said with a shrug, as he placed a neatly folded pair of socks, trousers, and a shirt on the counter. "You can try these – I purchased them because they were advertised to be for tall men, but the trousers are too short and the shirt sleeves end midway down my arms. You may keep them if they fit. Luckily I have the means to have my clothing personally tailored," he added, as if to explain why his attire always looked so perfect.
I nodded dumbly and thanked him for the clothing, and he left me alone to bathe.
I filled the tub with hot water. So hot, I thought my skin was going to start falling off the way the meat of a perfectly cooked turkey falls away at the blade of a carving knife. I rested my head against the cold porcelain and appreciated the generous size of the claw-foot tub. Erik must have had the tub specially made, or perhaps he even made it himself, for the tub was so large I was able to stretch my long legs out completely and I still could not touch the other end. Ordinary tubs are too cramped for a man of my size to take a long, leisurely bath. I assumed Erik had a similar tub in his bathroom, and against my will I imagined he and Christine soaking together, enjoying the sweet fragrance of the many exotic oils Erik kept on hand.
My ears flooded with water as I held my breath and dunked my head under the scorching water. I held my breath as long as I could, and finally returned to the surface and gasped for air.
From my position in the tub, I could see my reflection in the partially steamed mirror above the sink. I barely recognized myself. Beads of water mixed with sweat dripped down my flushed face. My brown hair clung to my forehead, and I raked it back quickly with my fingers as a futile attempt to improve my appearance. I was not completely unfortunate-looking. I had taken after my mother's side of the family, looks-wise. My high cheekbones and perfect complexion would have made me look like my mother, but luckily my father's broad forehead and nose prevented me from looking too feminine. I was only twenty-five, but my haggard appearance made me look at least five years older than my true age.
"What happened?" I asked myself aloud. I knew I needed to make a life change. What I really needed was to meet someone…another woman. Upon seeing the passion that Erik and Christine shared, I knew that I could never dream of ever attempting to break them up. Christine was out of my life forever. It would be a miracle if should would ever be willing to be my friend, after I had invaded her privacy by following to her home. In all honesty, I was amazed that Erik was taking care of me. I had called him terrible things in the past, and had tried to convince Christine that he was an evil monster. I guess it goes to show how love can change one's perception. I was so blinded by my love for Christine that I did not realize that perhaps Erik is exactly the sort of man Christine needed in her life.
Who was I to think I could make Christine happy? I have no musical sense, I never realized that she had changed in the years while I was away, and I never recognized her needs as woman. I just didn't want someone else to have her.
My hands and feet were beginning to resemble the awful prunes my grandmother used to eat, so I slowly stood up and got out of the tub. The plush white bath towel was like everything else in Erik's home: extra long. I really needed to find out where Erik got so many items that accommodated tall people. After combing my hair, I again studied my appearance in the mirror. I looked a bit better after combing my hair back, but I still couldn't believe how old I looked. Although my face looked a bit heavier than normal, I was thankful the extra weight had not gone to my gut.
"Things have got to change," I told my reflection. "I need to start over again," I said confidently, putting my hands on my hips. As I stood naked, looking at myself in the mirror, I recognized that I still had potential to be the man of some woman's dreams. I tightened my stomach muscles and stood up straight. With a little more exercise, and perhaps less brandy, my appearance would definitely improve.
It was at that moment I realized why I had been unable to tear my eyes away from Erik as he made love to Christine; I was curious. Of course, I'd heard stories, but I'd never actually seen the act of love expressed right before my very eyes. During my travels many women had attempted to woo me, but I intended on saving myself for the woman I planned to marry; Christine. I am not at all ashamed of being a virgin at the age of twenty-five. I firmly believe that sexual acts should be shared between a man and a woman that are in love. Maybe I clung so desperately to Christine because I was anxious to fulfill my own sexual desires. Perhaps I just wanted to love her. I was so busy thinking of myself, I had never even thought of how I would satisfy her in return. I knew I would not have made Christine's body writhe in pleasure the way Erik does simply because I would have been so focused on myself. Women have desires, too! Sure, I was well endowed, but clearly I needed more than a well proportioned manhood to please a woman. Perhaps I had watched Erik and Christine as a kind of lesson. I recalled the way Erik focused entirely on Christine – he stroked her hair, kissed her passionately, and caressed every inch of her body.
"I will fall in love someday," I said aloud, not caring if anyone heard. "I will give myself to her entirely and make her the happiest woman in the world."
Utilizing my new-found hope, I put on the clothes Erik had provided and marched out to face Christine.
I walked into the room and found Christine sitting in her usual chair, reading. I wanted to say something to her, but what? What could I say? I knew she was furious at me. After all, I had followed her home. I still did not know if she was aware of what I had seen the night before. I was just about to apologize for intruding on her privacy, when Erik appeared and announced that dinner was ready.
I did not feel like eating, but Erik said that it would help get me better sooner. I knew better than to argue with Erik, so the three of us migrated into the kitchen and sat down at the table. There was plenty of hostility; I'll assure you of that. Christine was forced to sit next to me, for there were only three of us sitting at a round table. She did not speak to me, let alone look at me. I felt awful.
The rest of the evening seemed to pass very slowly. After dinner, we all returned to the sitting room where Erik played the piano. Erik was a wonderful musician. Christine had taken a seat on the floor, and rested her head on the edge of the piano bench. Her love for Erik was almost overwhelming. I tried to read the book that Erik had provided me with, but I could not help but watching the couple in awe. I watched as Christine dozed off into a pleasant slumber. Realizing that she was asleep, Erik gently picked her up, and carried her down the hall to their bedroom, and closed the door behind him.
Erik came back a while later, wearing black silk pajamas, covered with a matching black kimono, also made of silk. It did not take a genius to realize what had taken him so long to return. His face was still flushed, and he had a small smile upon his face. I was extremely thankful that Christine had kept quiet this time. At least I could pretend to be ignorant to Erik's blissful disposition – it was much less embarrassing for me to pretend I did not know what took him so long.
Erik had quietly resumed his seat at the piano, but before he could begin to play, I spoke.
"Thank you."
"What?" he asked, turning to face me.
"Thank you," I repeated.
"Yes, I heard you the first time, but what on earth for? I already gave you my reason for saving you."
"No, thank you for taking care of Christine."
"I love her," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
"Yes," I sighed, "I know that now. I did not realize that before today. I thought that I loved her. Can you believe that? I thought that I loved her…"
"Yes, Raoul, you did love her – when you were a child. Christine has grown now. You have too. When you came back from Spain, you expected everything and everyone to be exactly the same. Things have changed. You have changed. I don't quite think you realize that Christine is a grown woman. She is not Monsieur Daaè's little girl anymore."
"Why did I not see that she did not love me? I know she tried to tell me, but I still pursed her. How could I have been so ignorant?"
"Christine is like a crystal ball," Erik began. "You must know how to use a crystal ball properly to see into it. Christine is the same way. If you do not know her, you will not understand what she is saying to you. You do not know Christine anymore; you are still trying to read her as though she is the young girl you fell in love with. If you do not have the understanding to use a crystal ball, you will only be a poor gypsy boy staring at his own reflection and you will never understand what it is trying to tell you. I, who was taught by the great gypsy wise woman, have mastered the crystal ball, Raoul. I know Christine; I know her better than she knows herself at times. Perhaps one day you too will understand how a crystal ball works."
Erik was absolutely right and I already knew it. I needed to find a woman with whom I connected with. Someone who's soul I could see into like a crystal ball.
"Do not worry," Erik said after a moment. "I did not tell Christine."
"Tell her what?" I asked dumbly.
"Raoul," he continued, completely ignoring my question. "I did not tell my wife of your voyeurism to prevent her from feeling embarrassed. I am not at all embarrassed; however, I do not appreciate my privacy being violated in such a manner."
I looked at him blankly. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. How foolish am I? Of course the all-knowing Erik was aware that I had seen them making love. But how did he find out?
"I was not aware of your presence the entire time," Erik said, as though he was reading my mind with his crystal ball. "It was not until I saw your reflection in the face of the clock." Erik pointed to the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. I was sitting on the couch they had been on, and indeed, from that angle I had a perfect view of the window in the glass that covered the clock's face.
"By the time I noticed you, it was far too late for me to do anything," Erik continued.
I knew exactly what he meant. He did not want to stop and alert Christine of my presence. He must have waited until after she had gone to bed to come to my aid.
"You were half dead when I finally came out to get you. I told Christine that you must have passed out immediately upon reaching the house. I assured her that you could not have been conscious to witness our intimate moments; a small lie, monsieur, to keep her from feeling exposed and to save your pride."
I did not know what to say. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Erik knew that he had said all he needed to say, so he turned and began to play a beautiful piece of music I had never heard before.