Chandelle Quatriéme: Espére

The last week. He hated this last week of the most of all the advent season as it was crowded, noisy, and too cheerful to be true. Everyone was happy, waiting for a holiday with no real meaning at all. Everyone but him had someone who waited for them in a nice, ordinary apartment.

He saw a normal house in his dreams, with real windows and doors, with a beautiful wife in it who waits him to return from work in the evening, with a nice dinner. As he thought more and more of this enchanting scene, the beautiful wife looked more and more like Christine Daaé. He loved to imagine things like these, turning sentimental all over it. In those days the house got pretty Christmas decorations as well in his daydreams, and it made his soul filled with warmth and peace.

He looked around in his house and it seemed to be so dark and empty. He had nice furniture and lots of pictures on the walls, but dark colors dominated all over the house and only now he felt it was too sad a place, like a crypt, five levels underground. Maybe the decorations would do some good? He returned to the box of "nasty Xmas rubbish" and he outlined the scribbling on it, and relabeled it as "Xmas ornaments". It felt better like this. He carried it out in the salon again and started placing garlands, and small ornaments in the rooms. It took him a while but when he looked around, he was satisfied with the result. He even placed a praying angel figure candleholder on the mantelpiece of the Louis-Philippe room. Then he changed his mind, picked the thing up and carried it into his own room that still remained without Christmas mood. He thought it was very laughable to decorate a room in Christmas pomp that contained a coffin as a bed. But this one candleholder could do no harm. He put it on his desk and lit a candle in it, and as the candlelight mysteriously fall on it, which was such a nice sight. Is this what people actually feel on Christmas? Tears were formind in his eyes- oh no, no, no… Erik isn't crying. He just maybe has some eye infection. Or just tiredness.

Anyway, the house sure did look better, but the Christmas Mass was still not finished. But something else was still missing from the house and he still had unused decorations and he knew why it was… but NO way Erik will carry a tree in his home. It is too much to ask of a man who hates Christmas. It is enough that the other decorations got out of the box after 40 years or so. It was his mother who used them for the last time and… and there are tree ornaments his mother made of hay when she was yet a small girl and he actually found them beautiful when he was a boy… he could just… take a look at them… after so long time. But he should finish that damned… oh God forgive me – Mass.

Tomorrow… tomorrow he will buy a tree. Oh, Goodness…

The Doctor rose from the bed of Mama Valerius and he was in a better mood than usual, eve gave a smile as he examined the old lady's features.

- How is she doing, Doctor? – Christine asked worriedly.

- She is doing much better than usual. – The old doctor nodded with pleasure.

- Is that true? – Christine did not want to believe her ears.

- Yes, she is in a much better form, she has to be careful, but I think, she is in a good way to get well soon.

- Oh! – A relieved sigh left her chest as she wiped her forehead with her handkerchief.

- Maybe I can allow her to spend Christmas out of her bed. – He added- But I have to decide it only tomorrow at my next visit.

As the doctor left, Christine felt so relieved that she could have danced through the apartment – and she eventually did, causing Mama Valerius to laugh at her.

- Oh, my child, you are such a sweet little girl.

- Mama! Mama, you are going to be well again, in no time! I am so happy!

- So am I, my dear child, but please don't be so happy in advance… I am an old woman and you should be prepared I won't be here always…

- Mama, it is not something you should think of, especially not now. It is a miracle you feel better, oh Mama, it is a miracle.

- It really must be. – She scratched her head. – Maybe it is the Angel's gift?

- The Angel! – Christine gasped in sudden realization. – Do you think the Angel of Music can help you feel better?

- Of course, my girl, all of God's Angels can work miracles!

- Then… maybe it is the Angel's gift for Christmas! Of course! How could I forget about it? I shall repay the Angel with something for the miracle! But what do you give as a gift for an angel, Mama?

- What- what, you silly girl. – The old woman laughed out. – Your soul!

- Oh! I did not even think of that! – Christine clapped her hands together in excitement.- But my soul is mostly made of music and I know that the Angel of Music is made of music as well, from head to foot. Or, well, I know the angels have no bodies… but… you know what I mean. I will give music to the Angel to thank for the great things I got…

- Oh, this is a very good idea, my dear! I think, both God and the Angel will be happy about it and you have such a beautiful and clear soul.

Christine smiled and with the great excitement, growing hope and happiness in her heart, she was searching for songs through her mind that would be suitable for a gift, while she was helping Mama Valerius with everyday life.

The next morning found Erik on the streets, earlier than his usual time of going out would come. He wanted to pick out a tree for his lake house. Not too big one as its leaves will fall on the very expensive carpet of his in the salon and he would hate the thought. Just a small one, just big enough to contain the ornaments he has. They are not too much, anyway. But as he was looking around, he sensed the presence of someone familiar near him. He turned around and instantly saw the man. The old booby wanted to hide from him, as he noticed that Erik saw him, but the Opera Ghost couldn't be tricked.

- Hello, Daroga. – He walked close to the Persian who became so occupied by examining a small tree nearby. – You may stop the play, Daroga, you don't even celebrate Christmas. – He knocked the Persian's shoulder with his bony, ungloved finger.

- Neither do you, as I remember, Ebeneezer Scrooge. – The Persian retorted.

- Well, this year Erik might do an exception, and try it out. – He shrugged.

- Why?

- It is none of your business.

- You act on a strange way lately and I just want to make sure you are all right.

- Or if I am not into something illegal. – He corrected the old policeman.

- Well, you know me too much and can see through me. – The Daroga admitted. – I don't know how you do it.

- Erik can see through everyone. He knows people too well. I would suggest you to leave him alone to celebrate his first Christmas in peace. I have much things to do yet.

- For example?

- Picking out and setting up this tree and finally finish my Christmas Mass.

- And the gifts?

- What gifts?

- You know, you give gifts to each other on Christmas, or am I wrong?

- Oh! Erik's stupid head! He swears he thought of it earlier but this Mass is killing him… you know, Erik never understood why people need a month to prepare for a simple one day holiday… but now he starts to understand… he is running out of all the candles…

- You have electrical lights in the Opera, don't you? Why do you need candles?

- Not candles like that! Candles on the wreath, you great booby!

- Did you even make a wreath? You really celebrate…

- I do. I have a good reason to do so. I think… Daroga, that I am turning to the better.

- If you turned out to be a total sweetheart, my old Erik, may I ask what I get from you? – The Persian teased as he did believe Erik is really preparing for Christmas this time, and he isn't up to anything bad… yet.

- You, you Persian cop, will get the exact same thing from Erik you got last year – nothing!

- Oh, it is fine with me. – he laughed. –At least I can figure out easily where to place it.

- Well, if I sufficed your inquisitiveness for now, will you leave me pick out my tree, Daroga?

- But of course, Erik… and… Merry Christmas!

- Uh… oh… - He blushed, not knowing what to say in his embarrassment. – To… you too.

He felt uncomfortable as the Daroga left, mainly because he knew the Daroga doesn't celebrate Christmas, and it was foolish to wish it for him in return, but he was so kind to him… It was among one of the special rare moments of their friendship. And he decided both Christine, and the Daroga deserve something as a gift… but WHAT….?

It should be suitable for the occasion, should be personal, and not something one – of a dozen gift! But what he, the monster could give to a beautiful and talented angel, and his best friend?

Maybe he could hope to have a normal Christmas… a normal life…?