Chant de Noel: Joyeux Noel!
It was the 24th December, 1880.
The next day it will be Christmas Day. Christine was so excited and she could just hope the Angel of Music will show up at night so that she will be able to sing her most heartfelt gift in return of the great miracles and tutoring her for so much time.
They did not talk about the holidays, and the schedule of lessons in the season, so Christine was a bit of confused. An angel does not care about so earthly traditions such as Christmas dinner or gifts, as they sure have everything they could need in Heaven, but maybe the angels attend Midnight Mass also? The Angel did not say anything specific regarding that. She should have asked, but she was a bit of uncomfortable about nagging the angel about her everyday issues and earthly thoughts – she tends to do it too much anyway.
Christine decided to be at Midnight Mass anyway – because maybe she will finally see, but at least, hear the Angel of Music again, it would be such a nice gift for her soul.
She wore her most elegant dress, a Swedish folklore outfit, because that went well with the song she chose. It was suitable as a church – wear in Sweden, but it was a bit different than French people wore for Church – so she was a bit of an outsider. She was getting used to it, though. She thought so differently than others and she was too shy and serious for the other girls in choir and the ballet, so she did not really find anyone there to talk to. Only the angel was her companion besides Mama Valerius.
Mama, sadly, did not join her to attend Mass. It would have been the best solution, but the old lady was feeling a bit of weak, so she decided, she will go alone.
XXX
He felt uncomfortable setting his feet in a church. It was such a long time he visited one… and when he did, it was mostly because of only his interest in architecture or church organs. And this crowd around him wasn't helping either. He was wondering why on Earth he even came at all. This was an absolutely stupid thought. People around him were staring at his skull features. He can wear any type of false nose, but people still keep staring. He sat down in a bench the furthest from the most of people, but nearest to the door- that way he could easily sneak out anytime and forget about his absolutely idiotic ideas and sentimental clinging to this world that always keeps out casting him.
He went to church because he felt like this he will get the closest to God he can, and to hear a Mass. He carried his own Mass with him as well, it was under his cloak in a folder made of leather. He wanted to play it on the church organ after everyone left the place, he wanted to play it out loud once, before he could show it to Christine. And what a better place for it than church?
He felt exhausted. Only he realized when he sat down how very exhausted he was. He was working on the Mass for weeks, with the least possible sleep and he decorated his Christmas tree the whole day – each damned ornament was placed with so much thinking, to tell the truth, overthinking that it took a damn lot of time. And all that cleaning, cooking, baking… he made a complete Christmas menu. Even a Buche de Noel. For whom, you may most likely, and logically ask. There is no answer. Erik could not answer that either. He only knew that it was right this way, as in his childhood, the play contained the menu as well, whether he ate a bite of it or not, it used to be there on the table, and that was how it should be. It was normal like that. He knew that Christmas dinner shall be eaten after the Midnight Mass and he did everything just like he learned in his childhood.
Even though the fresh air was cold and the church was freezing as well, and that should have kept him awake, he caught himself nodding off from time to time- small bits of the Mass just fell out for him. He forced himself awake and tried to stop yawning, but he couldn't.
XXX
Christine remained seated after Mass while others left the church. Even the priest and everyone else left, when she finally dared to stand up. She warmed herself up for some time before she would move, it was so cold in there that she could not feel her arms and legs. When she felt more comfortable, she looked around if she was really alone or not. At first, it looked like everyone left, but she heard strange noises indicating the presence of someone or something. It was like a cat's purring, or some other animal's noisemaking, but she knew well there were no cats in church. The sound was rhythmical, and constant… like… like… snoring.
Someone stayed here because they fell asleep? She can't sing until this person is still there. It must be a man. A woman does not make such noise while sleeping. Where is he?
She took a few steps to the direction where she heard the noise, but the acoustic of the church threw the snoring literally everywhere, so her ears were deceiving her. But she suddenly spotted a figure in a dark corner, in the farthest seat possible. He was laying against the bench and sleeping. She walked close to him to wake him up.
- Monsieur… - She started, at first as if she was a mother, trying to wake her oversleeping child up.
No answer, the man was sleeping as a dead body. Only his snoring gave away he was still alive.
- Monsieur… - Christine talked a bit louder.
Still not the slightest of reaction came from the extremely thin guy. Even though he wore a coat, she could still count the man's ribs especially that he was bending to the bench. Christine felt a bit uncomfortable touching him, she could not have told the reason why. But she had to if she wanted him to wake up and leave so she will be able to sing in peace for her angel.
- Monsieur, please wake up, the Mass is over.
She placed a hand on the bony shoulder. She had to shake him several times when he suddenly just tossed her hand away from him, startled up and without a single word, he just ran out of the door so quickly that she could not even tell if he was real or not. If she hadn't touched him, she would have sworn he was just a phantom of the night.
She wanted to sit down on the place the figure occupied to regain her sanity, but as she reached the bench, her boots hit against something and she kicked it away a few inches. Alarmed and curious of what she might have kicked, she leaned close to examine the thing. It was a folder, and the edge of a piece of sheet music could be seen. Music…? She couldn't help her curious nature and lifted up the folder, undoing the ribbon that closed it. She opened the folder and looked at the music. It was nothing like she knew before. It was a beautiful Christmas Mass, written in a childish cursive. The music itself was nothing similar she had seen earlier, it was bittersweet, full of surprising musical methods, questionable tonality, and sorrow and hope at the same time. She gasped at the mere sight of the notes, and she suddenly realized her Swedish Christmas song was absolutely nothing compared to this musical miracle. She was frantically searching for the name of the composer on the first page, but she could not see anything more than "Erik". Erik who? She did not even know anyone by that name.
What if this mass was sent to her by God himself? Such a coincidence isn't a coincidence. She finds a sheet music of a beautiful Christmas Mass on the church floor on Christmas dawn… as if God was trying to send a message for her about singing.
"Keep up your dreams and follow them, listen to the Angel of Music and you will find success."
She knew well what she shall sing now – this Mass.
XXX
Erik ran as fast as he could after being startled up at church. Who would think he would fall asleep and who on Earth would think someone else was still there to wake him up? He was extremely humiliated, scared and still tired. He had to slow down after a few corners because his body felt heavier and heavier with every step. His back was in pain as he slept bending to the church bench and his head throbbed due to the fact he was woken up so suddenly. He leaned his back against a tree and closed his eyes for a second, when he realized something. The folder he carried under his cloak was missing. God in Heaven, did it fall out? Is it at the church or did he lose it somewhere else?
He was frantically searching every spot it could have slipped out, but he could see only snow. He was walking back slowly to the church, with aching back and feet and in a terrible mood, but as he got near the church, he forgot all his problems, as he heard a beautiful voice.
Christine Daaé!
She was singing his Christmas Mass in the church, all alone. She was standing by the window so moonlight can light up the sheet music she was holding. It wasn't the way he imagined it to be – it was in fact, way better in reality. No matter that the organ accompaniment was missing – it wasn't even necessary. Christine's pure angelic voice was enough to make him cry with happiness. He was silently listening to the beautiful girl and his heart was filled again with that strange warm and tickling sensation. Was it happiness? Was it love…?
Maybe it wasn't a coincidence he lost his mass right here, on Christmas dawn? Was it a coincidence that Christine visited Midnight Mass just at the very same church as he did? He would have hated himself for falling asleep any other time – but now, he was thankful for this small "misfortune". That is how God is repaying for his very tiring work for weeks? He thought that Christine helping him up when he fell on ice was a gift, but he had to admit, hearing his Christmas Mass on Christine's voice was a way more heartwarming gift. He sighed dreamily and watched her in awe.
He did not want to play this ridiculous "Angel of Music" game at that moment, so he wanted to slowly and peacefully walk away when she finished, but Christine's voice startled him.
- Angel, here is my gift for you. I give it to you because you turned my life to the better and I would like to say thank you for it. And I know, in Heaven, every day must be a holiday – but Christine Daaé would like to wish you a Merry Christmas.
Erik got weak in the knees and although he knew that this confession was addressed for the "Angel of Music" it was, in fact his alter- ego, so he might take it on himself… he was working hard to tutor this girl, for months. Maybe it's time he should get his reward for it! No one gives free singing lessons and even the Coffin of Christ wasn't guarded for free. With God's and his talent's help, he can get want he wants and needs more than anything in his life- Christine!
So, even though he did not want it earlier, the play started again. He cleared his throat and threw his voice to sound like it was going from the very ceiling of the church and echo through the whole building, mysteriously and softly:
- Dear Christine, I have written this Mass just for you and I was enormously pleased by how it sounded in your performance. This is the gift I am sending to you for celebrating the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ. And my gift, my dear child, was the possibility of hearing it on your voice – and the most beautiful gift I have ever received.
He could barely manage his voice to stay majestic through his speech, he wanted to cry of happiness and being touched. Christine sent a wide smile and whispered a soft "Thank you, Angel!" but as she could hear no more answer from the angelic creature, she decided she was going home – it was nearly three in the morning, and Mama Valerius is sure worrying about her.
She left the church, sending a smile behind, and happily she ran home. Erik secretly followed her on her path, because he did not want filthy drunken pigs pick on a girl who wanders alone on the streets so early. He wasn't tired any more, he was refreshed by the music and chilly weather. Thankfully Christine arrived home safe and sound, and Erik was walking back to the Opera is a surprisingly good mood.
On his way home, a filthy little beggar kid approached him. He couldn't decide if it was a boy or a girl, it wore ripped and dirty clothes, and it did not have shoes. It was forced or sent to beg even in this late, or early hour. The kid reached out its hand to him and said:
- Merry Christmas, Monsieur…
Erik did not like to give money to these kids. He was once this abandoned as well, so he actually knew what they were going through, but no one on Earth gave him anything either… why should Erik bother with them…? But on that day, God showed compassion to Erik… so Erik will show compassion too.
- Same to you. – He nodded and tossed a 10 francs bill to the small dirty hand.
- Thank you, Monsieur…- the child gasped in surprise upon receiving so much money at once.
- Tell your parents to buy you shoes. – He said while leaving.
He was whistling happily as he arrived home, and he saw the beautifully decorated Christmas tree. He was standing in front of it for a time and he was silently praying in his mind, then went to the dining room to have dinner. Though he was all alone, he was happy. Happy because of the hope that was in his heart, and he thought he could be kind to ANYONE right now, even to his enemies. Peace and love filled his soul that dawn and he was waiting for the coming New Year with great expectations.
XXX
When the Persian got up on Christmas Morning, he was surprised to hear the news that Darius found a very interesting small package in front of the door. It did not list a sender, so the Daroga opened it carefully. There was a beautifully binded small notebook with a very expensive faountain pen and a small note included:
"Daroga,
As a cop you always need a notebook to list your silly thoughts and world- saving ideas. Your friend shall supply you with the items needed for that for next year. You're welcome.
Joyeux Noel,
Erik"
The Persian shook his head and laughed.
XXX
When Erik walked up in Box 5 in the afternoon to see what was going on in his Opera House, he noticed a box placed in the chair next to the column, which was his place. He was very surprised of what on Earth that may be. He lifted it up and saw the addressing for "Opera Ghost".
It was something for him! He curiously sat down and lifted the lid of the box, to find an Edgar Allan Poe - book and a box of liquor- filled, chocolate covered sugar bon – bons, which was the only sweet he liked at all. It was sent by someone who knew this about him, and that person could only be… the Daroga… he didn't expect to get back the favor with a Christmas gift. That was actually the first personal Christmas gift he ever received from someone. He also found a small paper that contained a short note which, to his surprise, touched his heart so much that he could only sit there for a while, crying:
"Erik,
With this small gift, the Persian cop, your friend is wishing you
JOYEUX NOEL!"
THE END