Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine

by Theodora Bruns

  “Do you think you’ll be able to find your way here on your own?”

  She sighed, almost with frustration. “Certainly I can. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as you made it out to be. Don’t forget, I’m a dancer, so my legs are strong, and my mind is not weak, monsieur.”

  I chuckled. “I wasn’t suggesting it was. I just wanted to make sure. I would hate for you to go missing without me knowing it.” She gave me that sideways glance of disapproval, so I changed the subject. “Is there anything in here you want before we leave?”

  She looked around and opened her armoire. Then, slowly, she lifted the skirt of a dress.

  “This is what I wore to the theatre the night of the disaster.” Then she looked at me. “Have you heard anything? Was anyone seriously injured?”

  The moment of truth had come, and I took a deep breath in preparation. “Yes, I’m sorry to say. One woman was killed, and I’m not certain about the injured.”

  She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Do you know who it was?”

  “Not really. I didn’t catch her name.”

  She nodded and looked back into her armoire, barely whispering, “May her soul rest in peace.”

  I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. I felt so guilty and needed to get out of that room quickly.

  She turned and looked at me. “Are you all right? You look distraught.”

  “Death has a way of making me feel sick, but I’m fine. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

  She closed her armoire and looked back at me. “You told me that night when the chandelier fell that you would explain later why you left me alone for so long.”

  How could I tell her that I was on a two week bout with depression and a drinking binge? Although I’d promised myself that I would be completely honest with the woman I loved, I just couldn’t confess that to her, not yet. So I did the next best thing; I told her the part of the truth that I could speak about and the part that she could handle.

  “I was very ill, Christine, very ill. You have to understand that it would take something of a serious nature for me to abandon you the way I did. I feel just awful that you had to endure everything on your own—just awful.”

  She was frowning by the time I finished, and then she asked, “What was it?”

  I only patted my leg, indicating the reason for my absence.

  “Oh, Erik, I’m so sorry. It was entirely my fault. You went to Perros to help me and made yourself sick. I’m so sorry for being that selfish.”

  I shook my head, “No, Christine.”

  “Yes, Erik. You got sick and could have died all because of me.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Christine,” I groaned as I placed my forehead against the corner of her armoire. “I did it myself after I got back to Paris. It was my neglect. You had nothing to do with it.”

  “You said you would be honest with me, Erik. Are you telling me that if you didn’t go to Perros that you would still have gotten sick?”

  “Oh,” I groaned again. Telling the truth was so much harder than I ever anticipated. “No. If I hadn’t gone to Perros I probably wouldn’t have gotten sick, but honestly, Christine, it had nothing to do with you, it was all me.”

  She put her hands on her hips and demanded, “Then why are you acting this way? Why are you acting as if someone is threatening to pull your fingernails off?”

  “Oh, Christine,” I murmured, as I turned from her and laced my fingers on the back of my neck. “I told you that there were things in my past that I was ashamed of. Well, I saw someone while in Perros who I knew as a child. She was kind to me and her kindness made me feel so disgraced. She was so pure and I was so vile, so once I got back to Paris I felt unworthy to be in your presence, and I knew you would be better off without me around. So I stayed away from you, and I neglected my wound, and I got sick.”

  I lowered my arms, turned, and looked at her. “So, see, it had nothing to do with you. In fact, it was you who saved me. It was the vision of your face and my love for you that gave me the strength to care about getting help. You’ve saved my life in many ways, my dear sweet Christine. Please, don’t blame yourself for my stupidity.”

  She walked up to me and placed her palm on my cheek. “Very well. I’m sorry to have made you explain that. I know it was hard on . . .”

  “Shh,” I interrupted. Then we heard, what sounded like a group of chorus girls passing in the corridor. “We need to get out of here soon. Come, let me show you the latch.”

  I put the stool under the latch, the mirror closed, and I asked her to step up on the stool. She did, but she was still too short.

  “Hmm, I’ll have to make a stool just for you, but for now let me lift you. Now remember, use your left hand. It will make it much easier.”

  I lifted her up by her small waist while telling her to feel for the indent in the center of a rose on the wallpaper. She found it with glee and pushed it. We heard the low rumble, and the mirror opened.

  “Here, Christine. Take the lantern and lead the way again.”

  She did and I was pleased with the ease with which she chose the right door and passage; however, I had to lift her at every one. I could have released the latch for her, since she knew approximately where they were, but I wanted her to be familiar with the feel of each one. Besides, I didn’t mind holding her one bit.

  When we neared the last door, she thanked me, and then explained, “I now understand why you wanted me in this costume. It was much easier with these trousers on, and I think I know what I’ll do when I go back up. I’ll always take that same route to my dressing room, and then I can change into that dress before seeing anyone.”

  “Good idea,” I replied as the last door opened.

  As soon as she walked in, she plopped herself down in the stuffed chair and sighed. “That was quite a trip.”

  I replaced the tapestry and smiled at her. “Yes, one of many.”

  “Just how many of those passages do you have?”

  I sat down on the organ bench facing her and looked at the walls surrounding us. “It’s hard to say. I would have to actually count them. Let me just say that this entire structure is honeycombed with my passages. That’s why so many think I can walk through walls. So be careful, Christine, or you’ll soon have that same reputation,” I added jokingly.

  “I don’t think I’ll try going through any doors where there are people around. I’ll just use my dressing room. I think that would be safer.”

  “I agree.”

  “Tell me something, Erik, how long did it take you to build so many passages?”

  I shook my head. “Let me think. I started in 1865, so about 16 years, and I’m still constructing them. It’s an ongoing project, you could say. But, like my music, I don’t work on them all the time, just when I have a thought and the time and the opportunity all at the same time.”

  That conversation went on for an hour or so. She had many questions and was always fascinated with my answers. We eventually decided we both needed to start on our tasks for the day if they were going to get done. So, while she made us a snack, I got some scrap lumber from the docking room to make longer legs for the stool. When I was finished, we both started back up the stairs. Once at the top, I nervously sent her off toward her dressing room while I headed for our managers’ office.

  I was waiting for half an hour for them to leave their office, and while at any other time I would have kept on waiting, with Christine in my passages my patience was wearing thin. Therefore, I took a bold move and, when the corridor was clear, I entered it and headed quickly for the office of their secretary, Monsieur Remy. Without a word, and with my head held down, I opened the door and quickly laid the envelope on his desk and then left. I didn’t see anyone in the office, but then I didn’t take the time to look either. I went back to the passage behind the managers’ office and waited another five minutes before Remy came in holding the envelope.

  Richard opened it, read it, discussed it with his p
artner, and then put it away. I turned to leave and was part way down the passage when I heard the words, Box Five. So I went back and listened to them laugh.

  “They must have given up on their jokes,” Richard said scornfully.

  Also chuckling, Moncharmin added his thoughts. “And if we had crumbled under their threats, think about the money we would have lost. That box has been sold almost every night.”

  “Let that be a lesson for us,” Richard replied.

  I grumbled while thinking, lessons—your day is coming for your lessons to begin in earnest. But, right then, my only thoughts were about Christine and not about teaching them their proper place in my opera house.

  I once more turned and was on my way home when I heard an angry voice, and one I easily recognized, Raoul’s. Needless to say, I was back at the small hole and listening within moments. Raoul was irate, and while our managers tried to calm him with their recent information about Christine’s holiday, he accused them of being deceitful and that he was going to see the magistrate. That wasn’t a calming thought.

  By the time I reached the last passage down to my home, I realized what time it was and that I might miss Roland and Obert if I took that passage. So I circled around and took the stairs down to the cellars. It was a good thing I did, because I met them on the stairs in the third cellar, and I was actually shocked when I saw Obert carrying two red roses.

  “There you are, Erik. We thought we wouldn’t see you today,” Roland said.

  “I’ve decided you’ll probably be seeing me every day. But what is this?” I questioned while gesturing to the flowers.

  “You always had them on your list so we thought you would want them today as well. I hope that’s all right with you,” Obert questioned.

  “It’s more than all right—it’s perfect, and I’ll want them every day until I tell you otherwise.” I handed them an envelope and explained, “Here’s a list and some money for the items. You can keep the change as your pay. Can you read it? Do you understand it?”

  The list I’d given them not only had our food for the next day but also another dress and an everyday black cloak for my love. I’d written the store’s name and location along with a complete description of the dress and cloak, if they were available. If not, then I was leaving it up to the proprietor to find something similar. They said they understood and I sent them on their way.

  From there, I went to and entered the trap door in the third cellar and then down into my home. I cleaned up the mess I’d made from the stool and was preparing to have some food ready when Christine got home, but my stomach was in knots. I was so worried about her getting lost in my passages, so I went back up again and waited in the passage behind her mirror. I sat on the floor that time, since my leg was complaining loudly by then.

  I turned out my lantern and laid my head back and tried to relax, but that wasn’t going to happen. The more time that passed the more anxious I became, so by the time I heard that familiar sound of a key in the lock, I was a mess. It had been almost two hours, two hours of torture. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  As soon as the door opened I heard Meg’s chatter, and I was terribly disappointed. But then I also saw and heard Christine. They both came in with Meg questioning Christine like an investigative reporter.

  “But are you sure you’re all right? What did he do with you all this time? Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “Meg, please stop. He’s a perfect gentleman. Other than that, I’ve told you everything I can. I’ll tell you more tomorrow or the next day. Right now I really don’t feel well, and I need to lie down for a while. Can I answer your questions later?”

  “But what about Raoul? What should I tell him?”

  “Don’t tell him anything. You didn’t see me, remember. I’m on holiday. Now, will you please leave me alone?”

  Meg finally agreed to wait and Christine almost shoved her out of the door and locked it. Then she hurriedly grabbed the costume out of her armoire and darted behind the curtain. I smiled; she didn’t trust that I wasn’t watching, was my first thought. She came back out in just as much of a hurry and quickly hung her dress up and then started to climb on the stool. At that time, I released the lever and the mirror began opening.

  She jumped down, and just as soon as the opening was large enough, she squeezed in and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

  “Oh, thank you for being here. Hold me, Erik.”

  I did that easily enough, but then I began questioning her. “What’s wrong? Why are you in such a shambles?”

  She looked up at me. “Oh, Erik, please just take me home. I want to go home. I’ll explain when we get there.” Then she laid her head back against my chest.

  “Certainly, Christine. Certainly. Whatever you want,” I replied and laid my head on top of hers.

  She called my home her home, causing my heart to beat calmly with a new type of warmth flowing through it.

  The mirror had closed, so, pulling away from her, I opened it again and grabbed the stool. Then with the lantern in one hand and the stool in the other I moved us quickly through the passages and doors. I looked back at her often, and each time she was right with me. Then, once we were in the music room, she barely gave me time to sit the stool and lantern down before she grabbed me, again asking me to hold her.

  “What’s wrong, Christine? What’s happened to you?”

  “It was horrible. Just horrible.”

  “What was? Did our managers do something to you?” she shook her head. “Was it Meg’s pestering you?” She shook her head again. “Raoul?” She nodded. I grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her away from me, looking directly in her eyes. “What did he do to you?”

  She was tearing up by then. “He didn’t do anything to me. He didn’t even see me. He was yelling and cursing at a stagehand and then at Madame Giry. He was accusing them of keeping him away from me, and he just kept yelling and cursing in a horrible way. I was trying to get back to my dressing room, but then Meg saw me and started squealing and talking loudly to me. I was so afraid Raoul was going to see me.

  “I couldn’t see him right then. Not with him in such a fit. He was treating everyone like they were . . .” she shook her head and clung tighter to me. “He was treating them so badly, and I knew how he would treat me if he saw me. I wasn’t prepared to defend myself. Maybe when I’m more prepared I can, but not now.

  “I had to put my hand over Meg’s mouth to keep her quiet and then hid around a corner until he left. Oh, how I wished I knew where one of your passages were right then. I was wishing I could slip into one of them like you do.” She looked up at me. “Can you please show me more of your doors so I can hide if I don’t want to be seen?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but that wouldn’t be possible. Remember where all my latches that lead down here are? They’re all too high for you, and you can’t continually carry that stool around. The object of the doors and passages is to maneuver them quickly and you simply couldn’t do it quickly if you had to climb on a stool first. Do you understand? It’s not that I don’t want to show them to you, it just wouldn’t be practical or wise to do so.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry, Erik. He just really unnerved me. I’ll be all right.”

  “Let me get you some tea. Maybe that will help your nerves.”

  “You’ve already helped them, but tea would be nice also.”

  We went into the kitchen where she saw her new roses and we talked about her visit with Madame Valerius. We got the leftovers out from the day before and ate them while we continued to talk. We discussed Raoul’s actions and what she might do about them, and I told her about our managers’ reaction to her note, but I somehow neglected to tell her about my seeing Raoul and about him going to the magistrate.

  Then while she was pouring herself more tea she realized that we were way overdue for the treatment of my leg, so that was our next job. When she removed the bandage she frowned and laid her palm over the stitches.<
br />
  “It’s hot, Erik, and it’s getting red again.”

  I looked at it carefully. “Doctor Leglise said if this should happen that we were to use the oil full strength on the stitches.”

  “I’ll get it. Which one is it?”

  “The one in the green bottle,” I called to her.

  She came back and dropped a few drops of the oil on the area. At first I didn’t feel anything, but after a few seconds, it felt like someone had driven a hot poker into my leg. I gasped, grabbed my leg, squeezed the wound, threw my head back against the divan, clamped my teeth closed, and closed my eyes tightly, groaning.

  “Oh, Erik. That must really hurt.”

  I couldn’t respond and she didn’t ask again, but she did rub my knee softly. Gradually, the sting subsided, so I opened my eyes and began breathing normally.

  “Wow!” I finally exclaimed. “That was unexpected. Next time I’ll prepare beforehand—like drink a full bottle of brandy first.”

  “Are you ready for the compress now?” she asked guardedly.

  I nodded and she began with the first hot cloth, which actually felt good.

  “You used it too much today,” she scolded like an aristocratic governess.

  “I agree, but I won’t have to in the days ahead. We accomplished much today. Now you know how to get in and out of here on your own, so you can come and go whenever you like.”

  “Not really. Not if I might run into Raoul.” Then she looked like a light turned on inside her head. “Erik! you said you had an outside entrance that you use. Can I use that one? Then I wouldn’t have to chance running into Raoul or Meg.”

  “No, I’m sorry. And again it’s not that I don’t want you to use it, it just wouldn’t be possible. You see, I only use it when it’s dark outside and when I’m totally in black. That’s what keeps me from being seen. If I used it at any other time of day, I could be seen. And again, the latch coming back this way is too high for you. You couldn’t be out there in the dark that way alone. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “Well, I won’t worry about that right now. I won’t have to go out tomorrow. Mummy and Madame Boulanger are going on an outing for most of the day, so perhaps by the next day I’ll have more courage to face Raoul.”