Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine

by Theodora Bruns

  Holding them behind my neck only intensified my uneasy posture, so, lowering them, I placed them behind my back and clasped them together, hoping they would stay there and not embarrass me further. But then they began to tremble along with my knees, and I felt weak all over, as if I was suffocating. I had to place my feet farther apart to steady my balance, which made my entire body feel conspicuous.

  I felt sweat begin to roll down my neck, so I lowered my head and placed my hands on my neck to conceal the visible evidence of my sad state, but my hands were more sweaty than my neck, making me even more uncomfortable. While in that position, I could see the ruffles on my shirt pulsate with each beat of my pounding heart, and I feared she would notice, so I put my arms across my chest and grasped my upper arms tightly. Then I stood there like a full-sized portrait of a staunch totalitarian in a museum.

  I knew I had to leave while I still had any self control left, so I started backing up until the back of my leg touched the end of her bed. Then my picture came to life when Christine repeated my name once again, but I don’t think I answered with anything coherent. I only stuttered and stammered and struggled to find a way out of the very dangerous situation we’d somehow again entered into.

  I glanced around the room, like a trapped rabbit with nowhere to hide. Then the urge to run surged through me, and I felt as if I was going to explode or go mad or melt or do something bizarre.

  Finally, I managed to produce something resembling human speech. “Christine, please excuse me. I need a drink of water.”

  Without waiting for a response, I tried to conceal the outward appearance of my passion and left for the kitchen. After taking several large swallows of water, I removed my mask and splashed water on my face, trying to gain a semblance of sanity. I spread my arms out on the countertop and lowered my head, trying to relax so I could return to her. Once I was back to a presentable state, I left the kitchen, knowing what I had to do. She was standing in front of the bookshelves by then, so I walked to the hearth and gazed down into the fire, preparing my apology.

  “Christine, I’m sorry, but I feel a desperate urge to compose, and I’d like to be alone so I can work. Would you mind spending the rest of the day with Madame Valerius?”

  I felt her watching me for a moment, and then she reached over and placed her hand on my arm. “Is everything all right? You don’t look well.”

  “I’m fine. I just need to work.”

  “Are you sure? Have I done something to offend you? Did I not show enough gratitude for your gifts?”

  I turned my head and looked at her for the first time since my ridiculous actions. “Oh, no, Christine. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve told you that I sometimes have a compelling need to compose. That’s all it is. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

  “Then let me pack a few things,” she replied, while heading toward her room.

  I took her across the lake and up the steps mostly in silence. Then when we reached the spot where we normally said goodbye, I kissed her fingers and the ring.

  “I love you, my angel. I hope you have a nice afternoon with Madame Valerius.”

  She smiled and I started to turn, but she laid her hand on my arm. “Erik?”

  I looked back at her. “Yes.”

  She studied my eyes and placed her palm on my cheek as she so often did. Then she started to say something but stopped.

  “What is it, Christine?”

  “You have a good afternoon also, Erik. I hope you can accomplish what you want.”

  I smiled faintly, nodded, and again turned and left. When I reached the dock, I stood for a few minutes, looking toward the stairs. I had more hope for our future than I ever had before, but there was something in her heart that her mind was preventing her lips from expressing, and her eyes had just told me so.

  I closed my eyes and sighed as I thought about the power that was continuing to grow between us. It was a power that frightened me, and a power I wasn’t able to describe, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to outmaneuver it much longer. I felt something of gigantic proportions was building, and I was torn between running away from it and embracing it.

  Unfortunately, the ability to see into the future wasn’t one of the gifts I’d been given at birth. If it had been, I would have raced after her at that moment, and I wouldn’t have let her out of my sight until she told me what was in her heart. But, since I didn’t have that ability, I was forced to let the sun rise and set until that power revealed itself to me in full. At that time, my earnest prayer was to understand that power and learn to control it before it destroyed us both.

  Forty

  I spent a few more moments in thought, and then I turned and left for my empty home. Less than an hour later, I realized I was in more trouble than I’d originally thought. No matter what I tried to do, Christine’s vision brought fourth that ache in my chest, that need to hold her close to me and to hear her return my words of love.

  As I drank my tea, there was her face across the table from me. When I tried to read by the fire, there she was on the divan smiling at me. While I played my piano, there was her angelic voice caressing my soul. When I reached for my portfolio of Don Juan, there were her inquisitive eyes, waiting for an explanation from me. It was hopeless. I was hopeless. Everything around me reminded me of my angel.

  I went to the kitchen and, without thinking, reached for a bottle of brandy. I was ready to pour a glassful of comfort when I realized what I was doing. I was preparing to bury my problems in liquor, and I knew I was completely lost if I thought I could hide from my pain in that fashion ever again. So I put it back in the cupboard where it needed to stay.

  Shortly, I was standing halfway between the door to the lake and my music room door, looking at both of them. When the deathlike silence pressed in on me, I knew I had to get out of my home. I had to get away from her memories and the nearness of the wine cellar before I did something crazy, something I might regret.

  Therefore, I headed up the stairs toward the floors above me. Once there, I figured I could keep busy walking through my domain and listening in on others’ conversations as I’d once done. But, again, every sight and every conversation made me think of Christine. She’d taken over everything, and I didn’t feel safe anywhere.

  I was in the third cellar by the sets and had just decided to head home when I heard Christine’s voice. It was so clear, and I knew for sure I was going crazy, but then I realized she was actually near. She was talking with Meg about Raoul, so I stopped and listened.

  “You mean you left him like that, Christine?”

  “Yes,” was Christine’s reflective and soft reply.

  “Oh, Christine, why did you do that? I thought you loved Raoul. You could be a countess someday. Don’t you want that?”

  “I don’t know what I want, Meg.”

  “Well, don’t you love him?”

  “Yes, I do love him, and I think I would go away with him and marry him if he were to ask me in earnest, but then . . .”

  “But then—what, Christine?”

  “I don’t know, Meg. I just don’t know. I have fun when I’m with him, but something doesn’t feel right, something is missing, and I get confused. I just don’t know.”

  Her words hurt and made me feel conflicted. I had to get away from her and any thoughts of her, but how? For starters, I knew I had to get out of the opera house, so, after looking at my watch and knowing it was after sunset, I headed for my outside door.

  Once outside, I lowered my hat and head, raised my collar, and started walking toward the Seine. I stood for a few minutes, watching it slowly move past me, but it wasn’t any help, it only reminded me of our carriage rides. I growled and started running along its banks. At that point, I didn’t care if I was seen or heard, I just had to run. I only stopped when I could no longer breathe and all my muscles burned.

  I spent the rest of that evening and then the entire night walking or sitting and trying to gain control of my mind. A
fter hearing Christine’s last words, I knew she was truly being tormented by her own indecision, so I couldn’t blame her for not giving me an answer. But that knowledge didn’t help my thoughts or feelings to quiet down. I couldn’t gain back my patience, and, without it, I knew I was a walking fuse just waiting for the right explosive to ignite.

  My strongest urge was to run, and it had to be more than a foot race along the Seine. I needed to be on the back of a horse and running where there were no buildings or people or carriages or streets and no sounds of wagon wheels or voices. I needed to get away from the city and everything in it. Perhaps then my mind would clear and I could gain mastery over it once again. Once I came to that realization, I knew what I had to do, and I began preparing for it.

  As I made my way back to the opera house, I prepared what I needed to tell Christine. The light was still on in my music room as I entered it and clicked the door closed, but the rest of my home was dark. So I walked softly toward the kitchen and washed quietly, trying not to wake Christine.

  I was walking toward the fireplace, preparing to light a fire, when her door opened. She walked out in the lavender negligee and robe I gave her, and instantly that same passionate feeling surged through me, leading me down that path of no control.

  “Erik!” she exclaimed, while starting to rush toward me. “You’re home! I was so worried. Are you all right? Where have you been all night?”

  Knowing she was probably going to hug me, I barely looked at her and continued on my way toward the fireplace. “I apologize if I worried you. That wasn’t my intent. I’ve been walking and thinking.”

  “All night?”

  “Yes. Sometimes I have to walk in order to think.”

  She sighed, “Oh, I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head, took a deep breath, and prepared to tell her my first real and deliberate lie.

  “What’s wrong, Erik? I thought you were acting strangely yesterday. What is it?”

  Motioning toward the divan, I began. “Nothing that serious. Please, sit down.” After we both sat in our respective places, I continued, “I need to leave Paris for a while, so I won’t be able to continue with your lessons for a few days.”

  Placing her hand on her chest, she sighed, “Oh, is that all? The expression in your eyes had me frightened. I thought I’d done something seriously wrong.”

  I managed to smile as I lowered my head. “No, my dear, you did nothing wrong. It’s just something I need to take care of, and it requires me to leave Paris.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  Keeping my sight on my hands, I tried to explain. “That depends. I’m not sure how long it will take to correct the situation. I hope it will only take three or four days.” I looked her sternly in the eyes. “I need you to know that if this weren’t important I wouldn’t abandon your lessons.”

  “I understand. I’m not having any problems right now with the score, so it’ll be fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” I sat back in my chair and tried to sound nonchalant. “While I’m gone, you’re welcome to stay here if you like. I want you to feel like this place is also your home, whether I’m here or not.”

  “Since you won’t be here, I might stay with Mummy. This will give me a chance to reassure her of my love and care.”

  We talked for an hour or so, during which time I almost changed my mind. The conversation was relaxed and without any pressure from either of us. She didn’t tease me, and I was free from those passionate feelings. But I knew I still had to get away, and, since the curtain was up on that scene, I had to finish what I started.

  While she packed her things in her tapestry bag, I packed what provisions I felt I needed in my canvas bag. Once we were ready, I took her across the lake. We were at that same place on the stairs when we said goodbye.

  I held her shoulders in my hands, laid a kiss on top of her head, and whispered, “I love you, Christine Daaé. Never forget that.”

  She pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, with hers filling with fright. “Erik! What’s wrong? Something is wrong, I can feel it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I looked away, swallowed hard, and then looked back at her. “The only thing wrong is the depth of my love for you, the depth of my need for you, that’s all. Don’t worry about it. But, if you would while I’m gone, please search your heart for your true feelings. I know I told you I’d be as patient as you needed me to be, and I’m truly trying to be just that. But, just like so many people who’ve underestimated my power, I fear I’ve also underestimated the power of my love for you. I just need some time alone, some time to think.”

  She touched my cheek, I took her hand and kissed the ring on her finger, and we said goodbye. Here nearness in the semi-darkness didn’t help my tortured emotions, so I hurried my steps toward what I’d hoped would rescue us both from what was to come.

  Shortly, I was on the back of a horse and heading for a store where I could purchase what I needed to stay out of doors for a few days. I never made it to that store though; there were too many other shops along the way. All those shops reminded me of that special woman—the florist, the dress shop, the restaurant, the book store, the grocer, and even all the broughams with their matched teams of horses. I felt pressure on my chest and that uncontrolled urge to run again, so that’s just what I did—I ran.

  Once out of Paris, I slowed my dapple-gray mare to a walk and tried to enjoy the scenery, but just as my journey down the Seine, I couldn’t get Christine out of my mind. I headed for the area where I’d spent those days during the war, knowing it was a good location with ample water and perhaps food, but it didn’t have enough influence over my emotions. I wasn’t any better off there than I was in Paris; in fact, I believe I was even worse.

  Not only could I not stop thinking about her but I was also burdened with an overwhelming sense of loss. I missed her terribly. When I closed my eyes, I could feel her fingers brush over my shoulder or through my hair. I could see her adorable face when she scrunched it and wrinkled her nose. I could see her wide eyes and hear her excited squeal every time I gave her a gift.

  I could picture the way she changed in an instant from an excited schoolgirl to a seductive woman, and it made my heart race. I pictured the way she fidgeted with her fingers or a ribbon when she was anxious about something, and it tore at my heartstrings. I pictured the way she looked in that little boy costume, and that made my heart feel warm. I pictured the way she held her hands on her hips when she was angry with me, and that made my heart laugh. But then the way she placed her palm on my chest when she was going to say something important or my cheek when she was feeling compassion made my heart ache and brought tears to my eyes. I missed her so much.

  Then, after two days of that torture, that other emotion that I hadn’t learned how to control became so strong that I thought I would destroy something, anything. It was jealousy. Having never been in love before, I was completely unfamiliar and unprepared for the strong passion of love and jealousy combined.

  The passion of lust I’d had in my past couldn’t compare to the passion of true love. It overpowered me completely, and all the intellect I had couldn’t fight against it. Then that helpless feeling added fuel to my fire and made me angry.

  I’d always come off the conqueror in any battles I’d fought in my past, whether it was against someone simple like Oded or someone powerful like the Shah of Persia. Those were battles I knew how to fight and win, but, with this new one, I was floundering like a wingless bird.

  When I thought about my feelings for Raoul and how close I’d come to taking his life, and his attempt to take mine, I pictured us only a little higher than unreasoning animals. Two stags come together in a forest to fight for a doe, one fights off or kills the other and the winner gets the doe, so simple an arrangement.

  But we weren’t unreasoning animals, or at least we weren’t supposed to be. We were civilized, although I’m sure if anyone had been watching us a
t the lake that day they might disagree with that statement. But since we were trying to be civilized, we had to leave the decision up to Christine, and I then realized it was going to be one of the hardest battles of my life. And as with many other lessons I’d learned, I was learning that one the hard way.

  As each day went by, I kept waiting for the surroundings or the constant companionship of the faithful horse with me to help me feel better, but none of it did. I’d only brought a small amount of food with me, but I wasn’t eating it. While the days were getting warmer, the nights were still cold, and, without proper cover, I was spending my nights awake and shivering, although I don’t think a tent would have helped.

  If I slept, I either had passionate dreams about making love to Christine or horrible nightmares about killing Raoul, and if I was awake it was pretty much the same. I was so miserable in all ways.

  By the fourth morning, my decision to leave Paris started hitting me hard, and I became angry with myself. I was going crazy knowing Christine was free to do with her life as she wished, and the more time I spent on that hill the more jealousy took over my thoughts. I was beginning to think I was a fool to leave her there alone with Raoul. He had an open door to influence her without my counter balance.

  By late afternoon everything came to a head, and I knew I had to go back, even though my time there hadn’t done the work it was supposed to do. I was weak from lack of food, and my sleep was rare at best. I felt simply horrible emotionally and physically. My throat was beginning to burn and my lungs felt suspicious.

  I was lying on my back watching the sun move in its orderly fashion across a clear but cold sky, and I was still watching as a cloud formation began concealing it from my sight. Then I felt the first drop of rain, and I knew I had to leave right then.