Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine

by Theodora Bruns

  She stopped right in the middle of the sentence, her eyes widened, her fingers closed over her lips, and I heard a soft gasp.

  “Perros! It was you,” she whispered through her fingers.

  “Yes, but why the shock? I already told you I was there with you.”

  She lowered her head and wrapped her fingers around her throat. “I know, but you were also with Raoul, weren’t you? He talked about glowing eyes. It was you who tried to kill him.”

  Twenty-Five

  I smirked and shook my head. “Again, Christine, an exaggeration. I can assure you that if I’d wanted him dead, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you that story.”

  I bit my tongue when I heard the tone in my voice, a tone that revealed my true feeling about the young fool. I searched her eyes, and I feared she’d also heard it. Trying to think quickly for words that would calm her new fears of me, I first took a sip of my tea.

  “Honestly, Christine, I didn’t want to cause your young friend harm. Well, that isn’t entirely true. I was angry with him and would have liked to slap him around a bit for the way he was treating you. But I knew how much you cared for him, so I couldn’t cause him any harm. I couldn’t hurt you that way. I never even touched him. He simply fainted at my feet.”

  I smiled, remembering my laughter as he did; however, she wasn’t amused. “But you left him there to freeze to death. That’s the same thing.”

  “No, Christine. Believe me, if I’d thought his life was really in danger, I wouldn’t have left him there. He’s young and strong, and I knew a priest would arrive at some point and find him. He was in no real danger.” Then, like an idiot and with a smile I couldn’t conceal, I added, “Especially from a big, black bear.”

  She set her cup in the saucer loud enough to let me know she was irritated. “You may think what you did to him was funny, but I didn’t. I was extremely frightened for him.”

  I nodded and waited a moment to make sure I had the glee out of my voice before I continued, “All’s well that ends well, my dear. The two of you spent time together and, I’m sure, had a nice train ride together back to Paris.”

  She looked at the fire and spoke softly. “No. I came back alone, the same way I went—alone.”

  “Why?” I asked with sobered thoughts, realizing she’d traveled all that way by herself.

  With her eyes still on the fire, she responded, “Because I didn’t want to be with him any longer. He made me so angry, and I didn’t want to talk with him anymore. I hate to travel alone, but it was better than listening to any more of his accusations, so I left without his knowing.”

  “Accusations? What accusations?” I questioned, thinking Raoul did it to himself. He’d put himself on her bad side without any help from me whatsoever.

  With a solemn expression in her eyes, which were still locked on the flickering fire, she said softly, “He so much as accused me of having an affair with my pure and perfect angel. He accused my angel of having selfish motives and wanting to seduce me. It made me so angry, but then, I presume, there was some truth to his fears, wasn’t there?”

  The room fell to silence as we looked at each other, and then I shook my head slowly and spoke softly “No, Christine. No. My intention was never to seduce you—never. Perhaps my motives have been partially selfish but not completely. The time I’ve spent with you, whether it was from behind the mirror or down here, has convinced me that we’re meant to be together. There’s something between us that can’t be put into words.

  “Yes, I want you as my wife, but I also want your happiness more than my own. Without doubt, I believe I can make you happy in ways that no one else will ever be able to. I don’t know if it’s our connection with music, or something else that I’m not aware of at present, but it’s there, and I can feel it so strongly. Can’t you, Christine? Can’t you feel it also?”

  Again, there was silence as our eyes spoke, and then she responded in a whisper, “I don’t know. I feel something, but I don’t know what it is.”

  Her eyes returned to the fire but mine never moved from her. I watched the firelight dance on her golden curls and bring out the pink in her cheeks. I could have spent the rest of the evening watching her. Then I felt my chest ache when I realized we’d completed one day, and I only had three days left to spend with her. I didn’t know how I was going to do it; how I was going to let her go. I loved her so much.

  I should have left the conversation on that note; it would have been a good way to end the evening. Our thoughts would have been good ones to take to our beds, but, like an idiot, I didn’t. While thinking about the short time I had left with her, my chest began to ache and I’m sure my expression showed it. So, before she looked up and saw my pain, I started talking.

  “So, as I said, I can’t take credit for all the extraordinary rumors spread about me. While it would come in handy to walk through walls or to fly, I’m only a mortal man with no more unearthly powers than the next man. What you see in front of you is all there is; just a man, no phantom, no ghost, just a man.”

  She took a sip of her tea and then looked back at me over the top of her cup. “And what about Joseph? It’s said you hung him in the third cellar. Is any of that true? Did he commit suicide like the police said or are you a murderer?”

  I leaned forward in my chair and placed my elbows on my knees, then, swallowing again, I began. “It’s true I hung him in the third cellar, but he was already dead when I did so. And, as far as it being a suicide, well, in a way it was. He tried to kill me, and in so doing it cost him his life. So, in a way, it was a suicide.”

  I looked at her eyes, trying to read them, and I didn’t like what I saw, so I tried to explain further, “It was self defense, Christine. It was dark, and I couldn’t even see him until it was all over. I didn’t deliberately kill him. I need you to believe me when I say that. I never intend to hurt anyone.”

  She glanced at the fire, and I waited to see if that was going to be the end of it, but, sadly, it wasn’t, and her need to understand went on. “Perhaps, this isn’t any of my business, but I need to know something.”

  “Christine, I’m asking you to love me, so there’s nothing about me that’s not your business.”

  “I need to know . . .” she hesitated and took a deep breath. “I need to know if Joseph Buquet was the only man you’ve killed. There were rumors that there were many.”

  I looked at her, thinking, this could be the end of it all, but I had to tell her the truth.

  “Because of what’s beneath this,” I said as I motioned to my mask. “I’ve been forced on occasion to forfeit another’s life to save my own. But, I can assure you, I would always prefer to leave a dangerous situation than to hurt anyone. I don’t take death lightly, and it’s never my intention to cause it, but there’ve been more than a few who’ve felt my life should end.”

  She curled her legs under her, pulled a blanket over them, and leaned back in the corner of the divan. “Then are you telling me you’ve never taken a life unless yours was in danger?”

  I was afraid she was going to take the natural progression with that question. I closed my eyes and turned to take a drink of my tea, giving myself a chance to think. Do I continue to tell the truth or do I lie? She would never know the difference. But I would—I would. So I took a deep breath and turned back to her.

  “Christine, there’re parts of my life that I truly regret, and if I could, in any way, do it over, I would change the outcome of certain situations, but, unfortunately, I can’t. There was a time in my life when I was a different person than who I am now. It was a long time ago and in a place far from France. I was very young and very hurt and very disturbed, and I reacted to the hate-filled world around me in a way that I’m ashamed of. No, being ashamed doesn’t come close to how I feel about that time. I did things then that I can’t even speak about, and my remorse is beyond words.

  “I was once told that we can’t turn back the clock, but we can wind it up again; we can try to do
better the next time. That’s what I’ve been trying to do. I’ve tried to stay away from certain situations and, therefore, prevent unnecessary deaths. That’s why you find me down here. I live here not only to protect myself but, more importantly, to protect those who wish to do me harm. It never turns out well for those who try to steal my life, and Buquet is proof of that fact.”

  Her eyes moistened, and I added, “You don’t need to look at me that way. I’m not asking for pity. I only want you to know me for who I am now. I don’t want there to be secrets between us, Christine, and if it means you have to learn about a past that I’m ashamed of, well, so be it. But it’s the man I am now that I want you to know. I’m a man who’s been given many natural gifts, and I want nothing more than to share what I have, what I’ve been given, with others. That’s one reason why I began tutoring you. I have a need to teach.”

  I held my eyes on hers as I finished my explanation. “But my greatest need is to share my life and all I have with you, Christine. I love you as I’ve never loved anyone. I learned at a young age that everything cost something—even love. All my life I was either unwilling to pay the price or others would never consider paying it. I love you not because I was willing to pay the price but because I had no choice. My heart took over my mind’s ability to make a decision, and I just love you—plain and simple—I love you.”

  The room was quiet as we listened to the crackle of the fire, and I believe we were both in deep thought. I was hoping for, even praying for, her understanding and forgiveness, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Mostly, she watched her fingers feeling the fringe on the end of the blanket, and occasionally she looked at the fire. When she looked at me, it was truly intense, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Eventually, we managed to talk about lighter subjects until she yawned and said she was sleepy.

  “Then you should retire. There’re nice bath oils and crystals, if you wish to take a bath. If you do, turn the knob that’s on the wall at the end of the tub. That will light the gas jets under the tub and make your bath warm and relaxing.”

  “What a wonderful idea. Your inventions are truly remarkable.”

  “I’ve only designed things to make my life easier—better, like my electric lights or my cold pantry. Oh, one word of caution about the jets. Wait until the water is running in the tub before you turn that knob on and remember to turn it off before the water is out of it. If you don’t, the tub will become like a huge pot on a stove and get extremely hot. It could cause a nasty accident.”

  “I will. Thank you for thinking about the bath oils. I noticed they’re also lavender.”

  “You’re most welcome. I aim to please. I’ll light the jets for you, if you’d like.”

  “I think I can figure it out. If not, I’ll let you know.” She got up and started to leave but then stopped and looked down at me. “Thank you, Erik, for being so open with me. It means a lot that you can talk about your past failings like you did.”

  I looked up at her. “I want you to know exactly who I am. No superstitions—no rumors—only the truth.”

  She nodded and almost smiled, and then left for her room.

  When I heard the water running in the tub, I sighed. She was really here, I mused. After listening to her hum for a few moments, I got up and took our cups to the kitchen. All I wanted was to collapse on the divan and get a good night sleep, which I hadn’t had in several days, but I knew I had to fulfill my promise to Doctor Leglise and take care of my wound first.

  He’d told me that I needed to treat it three or four times a day, but I knew I’d only be able to do it twice a day, once before Christine woke up and once after she went to sleep. Therefore, I put the pot on the stove to heat the water and then went to my armoire to get the oils he’d given me.

  Then I saw, sitting beside the oils, the box with my nose in it. My curiosity triggered a thought and I decided to try it on again, thinking, since Christine knew the reason for the mask, I had nothing to lose. But when I put it on and looked in my small shaving mirror, I instantly took it off. I felt bad with it on. It wasn’t me. I felt like a fraud. It just wasn’t me. I put my mask back on and then I saw myself. Perhaps I’d worn it too long and relied on it too much. It was by then a part of me just as my eyes and mouth were, and, without it, I didn’t feel whole. So I put the nose back in the box in my armoire and left for the kitchen again, thinking it had been a bad idea to begin with.

  While the water was heating for the compress, I made a plate of food, since I knew I needed nourishment. Once done, I took everything I needed for the wound along with my food and a glass of brandy to my divan. I then removed my neck scarf, coat and trousers, loosened my collar and lay back against the divan, with my legs on the table in front of me.

  Before I tried to eat, I first removed both the dead and live maggots from the dark, stinky hole in my leg, causing me to nearly change my mind about eating. After hiding their jar on the floor beneath my legs and out of my sight, I laid the hot compress over the wound, threw a blanket over my good leg and my body, and then relaxed. I took a sip of my brandy, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the warmth of the compress on my leg and the brandy in my chest. My thoughts quite naturally turned to Christine in the next room, which made me feel warm all over.

  I only momentarily gave thought to taking a dose of morphine to stop the pain and help me sleep, but I knew I couldn’t do that, not with Christine in my home. I gazed at the ceiling, the wall hangings, the fireplace, and wished I had a window. That was one major drawback to my shrouded castle, no windows. At times like that, I missed watching the trees moving gracefully in a breeze, or the puffy white clouds traveling lazily across a blue sky, or the multitudes of stars on a dark night. Oh, well, I sighed. Be thankful for what you do have, the lovely Christine in the next room.

  I must have drifted off because the next thing I remembered was my brandy glass slipping from my fingers. I jumped and grabbed for it, but I was too late.

  “Christine!” I blurted out.

  She was standing over me with my brandy glass in her hand. “I was afraid you were going to spill it all over yourself. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “What are you doing up?” I stammered while throwing the blanket over my bad leg.

  “I heard you scream and feared something was wrong. Do you have night frets?” she asked compassionately. “Sometimes I do.”

  “You could say that. I’m sorry I woke you. I’m fine. You can return to your bed,” I tried to say without showing my embarrassment.

  “It’s all right. Don’t look so shocked. I’ve dealt with serious injuries before.”

  She set my glass on the table, stuck her finger in my bowl of water, and picked it up.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, still somewhat confused over the new personality I saw emerging from her.

  She turned around, heading for the kitchen, and answered over her shoulder, “This is cold. I’ll heat it up for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Don’t bother,” I tried to tell her, as I awkwardly moved the blanket to cover myself properly.

  “It’s no bother,” were her last words as she disappeared around the corner.

  I looked quickly at my trousers lying beside me and wondered if I had time to slip them on before she came back. My question was answered a moment later when she returned, so the blanket stayed put, and so did I. Then she acted as if we’d known each other for years and just took over. She tried to pull the blanket off my leg, but I held onto it tightly.

  “It’s all right, Christine. I’m finished for now anyway.”

  “I don’t think so,” she came back with authority. “I saw that red streak on your leg, and you can’t have too many hot compresses.”

  Again pulling the blanket off my leg, she went on. “I’ve seen this before. Mummy was bitten by a dog once, and this same thing happened to her arm. The red streak went all the way from her wrist to her elbow. I remember being so frightened when the doctor sai
d she could lose her arm, or even her life, if it wasn’t taken care of quickly.”

  She looked at my leg. “This is much worse, so you need all of the hot compresses you can stand, and you really shouldn’t be walking on it either.”

  She started to reach for the cloth lying over the wound when the teakettle whistled and she quickly left. My eyes darted around the room, as I tried to gain back a measure of my dignity. I struggled to think of the right words to dissuade her from continuing with her efforts to help me, without hurting her feelings. Before any reasonable thoughts came to mind, she was back by my side and had set the bowl of hot medicated water on the table at my feet. She reached for the cloth again, and I put my hand over it.

  “No, Christine, you don’t need to do this. It’s not a pretty sight, and I can do it myself.”

  As she knelt down on the floor by my leg, she answered in a matter-of-fact fashion, “I know you can, but I’m here, so you don’t have to. Now quit being such a baby and let me help.”

  “I’m not being a baby. I just don’t want you subjected to this when it’s not necessary.” She looked at me and shook her head. “Men are such babies.”

  The next time she reached for the cloth, I didn’t prevent her. When it came off, she instantly dropped it, and her hand covered her mouth, so I quickly covered it up again.

  “See, I told you it was horrible. Now go back to bed and let me take care of it.”

  But she didn’t go back to bed; instead, she took it off again and started apologizing. “I’m sorry, Erik. It just took me by surprise and . . .”

  She rinsed out the cloth and placed it back on the wound, and then she looked up at me and took a deep breath.

  “What is it, Christine? You have nothing to fear by what you say at this time. I won’t threaten your life again, I promise.”

  “It’s not that, it’s . . .” again she stopped and just looked at me.

  “What is it? If you want to change your mind and go back to bed, go ahead. I’ll understand.”