I had drawn up plans for expanding the first floor, and the floor that Christine and I occupied, and I thought the basement had possibilities I hadn't explored yet. With my penchant for digging underground, I was looking forward to poking around down there. I hoped to I'd get a music room in; somewhere to escape to.
I wandered down with a sketch pad one afternoon.
First thing, it sounded as though we had rats, judging by the scuttling sounds. My eyesight's quite good in the dark, and there was Silke emerging from the shadows, flustered.
"Sorry to have startled you, Silke," I apologized. She dashed upstairs, ignoring me. Typical; I paid it no attention. I sketched and made notes for about twenty minutes. When I was finished, I went to the top of the stairs and fleshed out my sketches while I waited.
"How long do you intend to hide down there, Romeo?" I called at last.
"Wh-what?" came the tremulous reply.
"Raoul, you idiot! I lived in a cellar before your father met your mother; I saw you plain as day."
He came to the bottom of the stairs, his cheeks glowing in the gloom. I stomped down and cracked him across his perfect face. "You can't stand yourself, can you? You must have a romp in the cellar with Silke, of all people! Are you a married man or not?" I demanded.
Raoul shrugged like a boy. "Everyone does it, Erik. It's got nothing to do with being married. Manon doesn't want another child so soon. She'll be grateful that I don't trouble her."
"That's the stupidest thing you've ever said, and that's saying something. Everyone does not do it, thank you very much."
"Everyone does it where I come from; I mean, in my circle," he protested.
"Well, good for you and your circle—go have a blanket drill with one of their servants! This is a goddamn picnic you've set me in the middle of. No doubt you expect me to keep this from Christine!" I growled.
"You won't tell her, Erik!" He looked scared out of his mind. GOOD.
It sounded like a magnificent mess; I wasn't interested in being the instigator of it.
"Well, I won't volunteer any information—but I'm not lying for you, and there'd better be no more fun and games down here!"
"There won't be, I swear it!" I thought he might kiss me.
"You didn't promise her anything, did you?" I demanded.
"No—she just wanted a bit of fun, like me."
"Christ." I felt as though I'd suddenly acquired a prodigal younger brother. I ran my hands through my hair. "You go into Paris right now and buy your darling wife some flowers and a piece of jewelry—a damned expensive one—and go home and work your pretty boy charms on her. You sweep her off her feet as if your life depends on it."
Raoul nodded sheepishly. The more I thought about his behavior, the angrier it made me.
"Unacceptable behavior, Raoul, unacceptable. You get that out of your system before you marry; if you didn't--tough. You don't treat your wife that way; she's just been at death's door to give you a child."
"I wanted a son," he grumbled.
"Then let her get her strength back and make one, man! Don't you dare breathe a word of your disappointment to her. God, you're a miserable git!"
"Christine's better off with you," Raoul confessed.
"I know it; now go home. And do what I told you!"
"I hope God doesn't give us any more babies," Masson confessed.
"It's hard to get used to, isn't it?" I sympathized.
"Mm."
"What could we do to help you and Miri-ange become friends?" I thought perhaps if we put our heads together, we might come up with something. He's a clever boy.
"Make her go away."
"We can't do that, Masson. It would make Mama sad, and me too. We love her and want to keep her. What if she was the big sister and you were the new baby? Would you want us to send you away? Wouldn't you want to find a way for your big sister and you to be friends?"
He nodded.
"She'll be more fun when she gets older. You'll have her and Fahim and Charlotte, and you'll play and have a grand time. I promise. I know how hard it is to believe now, Son. While you're waiting, you must try really hard not to be angry with Miri-ange, because she didn't ask to be born, and she can't help being helpless."
I knew I was talking big ideas to such a little boy, but I hoped he would understand somehow, if only a little. He climbed into my lap and cuddled, and I knew he felt Christine had abandoned him. He wanted his Mama, and all he could get was me.
I made a quick trip back to my theater. I'd neglected it horribly, and of course it showed. It was a tremendous cock-up, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it for the foreseeable future. Masson alone was a fulltime job, leave out helping Christine with Miri-ange.
Raoul and Gaston came over for a smoker with Reza and me. I had two brandys and a cigar. All I could think about was giving Masson his bath, reading a story, tucking him in; holding Miri-ange, thumping her back--after tossing a rag over my shoulder so she wouldn't spit up on my shirt; bringing Christine a cup of tea, tucking her in with a kiss and an 'I love you'. They went off to the coffeehouse; I begged off, told them I hadn't slept for two nights. It could have been true with a new baby and a toddler, but really I just didn't want to go.
I didn't recognize myself anymore. I looked in the mirror and saw the same face I'd seen for over half a century, but who was behind those eyes? No longer the Opera Ghost, who could I be? Christine's husband? Masson and Miri-ange's father? How could I be? That is a job for a normal man, who had loving parents and proper schooling, who learned his catechism before he was fifty, who didn't kill for money or hatred—who'd never taken a life, who didn't envy and rage. I didn't even rage anymore.
Sometimes, if you're staring blankly, your eyes will go slightly out of focus and you'll begin to see double. If you reach out to touch a thing in this state, your hand will close around air, even though you'd swear to the last instant that there is something there to grab onto. So it was as I stared into the mirror, and tried to think: who are you now, Erik? Each time I thought I'd caught something that was truly me, there was nothing there. The man in the mirror had no answers for me.