I withdrew. I played with my children and stayed in my music room, leaving our guests to Christine. It's not as if I was sitting in the dark moping; I was actually composing. At dinner, I think I said ten words. Christine made light of it, laughing that she'd taken Reza's advice and learnt to ignore me when I get into one of my black moods for no reason.
I stayed downstairs late. The problem with Christine is she can't let a thing lie if it's bothering her. I didn't matter if I waited til 11, or 1, or 3; somehow she'd hear me tiptoe in—what sort of goddam ghost can't sneak up on a sleeping woman? She'd hear me tiptoe in and pop up wide awake, ready to 'discuss things'. I didn't want to discuss it with her, you see; I couldn't. I was a different person then. No; I wasn't a person at all.
Like all couples, Christine and I had shared stories of our lives before, but there were things which I either glossed over or omitted entirely. She seemed to understand my need to keep things locked away; if she didn't understand, she respected it, and that was good enough.
I was completely at a loss to convey the way that period in my life had marked me. I could put words to it, but the person listening couldn't understand what it was like. Yes, I can tell you that I felt shame—and you would think back on a time you'd made some minor social faux pas, and how awkward it was the next time you met the individual on the street. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about shame which permeates every facet of your being and convinces you that you don't deserve to live. As I thought about the circus and the sideshow coming, I felt all the shame and worthlessness bubbling up inside me, like a muddy spring. There was no way I could explain it to Christine.
I decided to curl up on the sofa right there in the music room. At some point, I woke up and there was a stunning blonde apparition in a pretty gown standing above me.
"What time is it, Christine?"
"It's about four; why haven't you come to bed?"
"After it got late, I didn't want to wake you."
Christine shoved my legs aside and perched alongside me. She reached for my hand.
"Won't you tell me?" she whispered.
"Tell you what?" I drew away and sat up.
"Erik—" she placed her hand on my shoulder; I shrugged her off.
"Just leave it, Christine, will you?"
"I don't understand," she sighed, folding her hands neatly on her lap.
"Why can't it be what you told Manon and Raoul at dinner? Why can't it just be a black mood?" I demanded.
"Because I know you, Erik. I don't understand why you can't tell me what's happened."
I wanted to scream at her to leave me alone. The struggle to choke those ugly words down made me tremble. Christine waited, her eyes wide and full of love; all she wanted was for me to share my thoughts with her. I wanted to tell her. I tried to; I couldn't make the words come.
"It isn't anything to do with you, Christine. Nothing to do with you or the children. I'm not ill," I confessed; knowing it would not reassure her in the least. "Just give me a little time, and a little room. Can you do this?" I drew her close and pressed my lips to her forehead. She clutched my shirt in both fists.
"I'm frightened."
"Don't be; it's alright. I love you. It's just…painful memories. They come from nowhere sometimes." She searched my eyes.
"But can't you tell me? I—"
"I'm sorry." I shook my head. "I know this hurts you, but I don't want to discuss it. Please understand."
I didn't sleep after she left me. I knew she was weeping two floors above me. At breakfast, she was ready to forgive me, as always, but I was as tense and prickly as I had been the night before. I took myself back to my music room with some coffee.
After about an hour, another cup was placed on top of the piano. Reza settled on the sofa with a smile.
"Thank you."
"I am happy to take Christine and the children to the circus."
"No, Reza. It's my family."
"It's my family, too. Why put yourself through this, my friend? Just the thought of it is destroying you."
"You take them to the theater; that's already enough. I can't turn every unpleasant task over to someone else. I must learn to be a proper husband and father."
"Not all at once you don't," Reza insisted. "Look at how far you've come since Christine came to you. You've held a job again after twenty years. You live in the daylight. Every day, you take your children to the beach, the park—you used to go to the chocolate shop and flower market in Paris. You were even hauled off to prison and managed to survive it. The circus will come again, Erik."
"Thank you, Reza. I feel so helpless against this," I laughed nervously. "I just want to leap up and run; run and never stop. But I don't run anymore; I must put this behind me somehow."
Reza nodded slowly and got to his feet, wincing. He patted my shoulder three times before returning upstairs.
-0-0-0-0-
The circus was setup in a field outside of the city. As soon as we approached, I smelled the dust which had been pounded into the tents over the years. Dust, mud, straw and shit. Then there was the noise; hurdy-gurdies which passed for music; a multitude of screeching children, and the circus people hawking various and sundry.
Miri-ange wiggled and giggled in my arms, and Masson all but yanked Christine's arm from the socket.
"ELEPHANTS! ELEPHANTS!" I followed as Christine was dragged along helplessly. I was actually glad the children were so out-of-control; it distracted Christine from me, and me from myself.
"Masson!" Christine nearly fainted and clutched my arm in horror as her son rushed up and embraced the huge beast's leg. The creature investigated him gently with its trunk. Miri-ange was fascinated with the gigantic ear; she whispered secrets to the grand old lady.
I felt some kinship with the circus creatures; there against their will. I was relaxing into the elephant's warmth and scent when a raucous cry exploded through the din.
"FREAKS!"
I cringed as if dodging a bullet. Several people noticed, but Christine and Masson were not among them. I covered up with Miri-ange with a cuddle and a kiss.
It seemed I could hear the sideshow barker clearly and everything else was muffled; I glanced around me to see if anyone else appeared to notice, but really I knew it was me. He went on about the strongman and bearded woman, the legless man and the monster bride and groom. I fully expected to be dragged away at any moment and fought to keep from getting ill all over the baby.
"Christine," I choked at last, "let's sit down."
"But, Erik, they—"
"Now, Christine," I growled. Mystified, she dragged Masson, protesting, toward the large tent. We paused to visit a monkey along the way. Miri-ange was delighted with it and so I handed her to her mother. I hate the things; they're mean, and I told Christine to look out lest the filthy little beast try to bite the baby. The monkey's keeper insisted, 'Oh, no, not Tin-tin. He loves little girls, don't you?' smiling a mouthful of rotten black teeth. He stared at me a little too long and I ducked into the show tent.
When the show began, it became somewhat easier. I tried to concentrate on the acts and compare them with others I had seen and known. It wasn't difficult to do with my baby on my lap, clapping and bouncing. I kissed and stroked her downy head and felt the tension drain away.
When the show ended, I began to feel the weight lifting from my chest as we exited the tent. In a little while, I d be breathing freely for the first time in two days. Suddenly, Masson began to squeal.
"Sideshow! Sideshow, Mama!"
"Masson, no!" I screamed. Christine, Raoul and Manon all turned and stared at me.
"Son, it's no place for babies," I tried to explain. "Sissy will be frightened."
"Mama take Sissy, then! You take me, Papa!" he jumped up and tugged on my arm.
"No."
"I'll take him," Christine offered, prying his hand from my arm.
"No, Christine, please don't." I didn't want her to see what I'd come from, a cage covered in straw and filth.
"Erik. I want to go," she murmured, squeezing my arm. I nodded mutely and took the baby from her. Raoul ducked alongside her and offered his arm. I could see that he didn't understand what was happening, but I was grateful that he didn't permit Christine to go unescorted.
When they reappeared, I was ashamed to face her; ashamed and afraid. I didn't want to find a change in her eyes. She took my arm, but I took no comfort in that. She seemed subdued all the way home.
-0-0-0-0-
I am ashamed to admit that I considered sleeping in the basement again, out of fear that Christine would call me a filthy animal and reject me. But I decided that if it was to be, the sooner I learned the truth of it, the better.
She climbed into bed beside me and tugged at me, demanding my arm around her. She stroked my brow and kissed my monstrous face. "Oh my precious love, it's a wonder you have any warmth left in your heart for your fellow man. My precious love…" She pressed her nose into my ghastly cheek and wept while I held and soothed her.
-0-0-0-0-
Masson and I were sharing a snack in his lair after his music lesson. Suddenly he turned to me, looking very much like Christine when she was irritated.
"Papa, I do believe Mama's got another baby."
"Yes, she has," I smiled. I didn't see that there should be a problem, since he and Miri-ange had come to love one another dearly. He understood that she would not steal Christine from him, and she followed him like a duckling behind its mother.
"Why would you and God give her another baby?" He was clearly exasperated.
"Well," I stammered, "some people like to have lots of babies…"
"Papa," he sighed, "enough is enough."