“You’re running out of time, my dear. You have less than 22 hours to make your decisions. The grasshopper or the scorpion?”
I started to leave but then turned back toward her. “You’ll be my first. Did you know that, Christine? If you make the wrong decision, you’ll be my first. Yes, all those who’ve crossed me in my past and ended up being worm food have been men, so you’ll be the first woman to have that distinction.”
I opened my music room door and looked back at her again. “Oh, no, wait a minute. There was one other woman just recently, but that wasn’t deliberate. Her death was an unfortunate accident. She happened to be sitting in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it might interest you to know that her death was a direct result of her getting in the way of something I wanted. And, since I caused the accident, I guess you could say she was the first woman I killed.
“And to think, she was going to hurt someone I only cared about, not someone I loved as I do you, Christine. Do you have any idea the mountains I would have moved just to give you everything you wanted? I would have stopped at nothing to make you happy. But, now, look at you. I’m the cause of your tear-streaked face. I’m the cause of your blood being spilled. Such a shame—such a waste.”
I looked at my watch again. “Running out of time, my dear. Make your choice soon before it’s made for you. And, don’t forget, if you make the wrong choice, you’ll cause many more women to take their last breath along with you.”
I bowed low and closed the door.
I headed straight for my organ, where I played the worst of my music from Don Juan and the other dark periods of my life. I played ruthlessly, trying to prevent any human emotion from surfacing again. But I couldn’t prevent Christine’s bruised and sad face from passing repeatedly before me.
I played for over two hours before I made the decision to plead with her gently one more time. Each time I did, a small piece of my resolve must have somehow been buried, because I had to fight to maintain my staunch demeanor. This time when I saw her, her tears were dry.
“I’ve finished Don Juan Triumphant, my dear,” I said as I walked in front of her. “Do you remember what I told you would happen when I finished it?” She barely shook her head. “Then I’ll help you remember. I told you that once it was finished, I would take it in my coffin with me and die. Remember now? Therefore, if you won’t marry me, the only task left for me to do is to crawl away and sleep forever.”
After a silent moment of watching her, I went on one knee before her. I searched her eyes, looking for that one expression I’d been waiting for, but then I presume that was the wrong time to look for it. When I thought about what I was doing, I knew there was no way she could love me, but that didn’t stop me from trying again to persuade her.
“I’d like to compose one more piece before the day is finished, and I’d like you to pick the theme. Should I compose a wedding mass or a requiem mass? Which would you prefer?”
She shook her head slowly. “Please, Erik, in the name of God, let me go. You know you don’t want to do this. You say you love me, but if you love me you couldn’t be doing this.”
“Yes, I do love you, Christine, more than life itself. That’s why I beg you to let me compose a wedding mass for you. It’ll be magnificent, and I promise I’ll be the best husband a woman could ask for. I’d appreciate you more than any other man could even comprehend. We could live a life of music and sunlight. I no longer want to live like a rodent underground. I want a wife who will walk beside me through a park and let me ride with her in a carriage in the light of day.
“I spared no expense or effort when I brought you down here to stay with me, and I would do the same if you’d only agree to marry me. I told you I’d give you the world, and I will, if you’ll only give me a chance. Love me for the man you’ve come to know.”
Tears started forming once more, and I lowered my head and closed my eyes tightly. “Please, don’t cry, Christine. It pains me so when I see you cry.” I looked back at her face, and once more saw tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Christine,” I moaned.
In the silence, with both of our eyes pleading, my resolve was ready to break completely, but then the motion sensor on the lake went off, and I jolted to my feet in an instant. I turned quickly and left to turn it off. My heart was pounding as I contemplated who it could be. Oded was my first thought, or Raoul, probably with a police escort. My anger was instantly rekindled and was burning through me stronger than ever as I went back to Christine.
“Have you made your choice yet, my dear? Why are you putting it off? You’re only tormenting yourself—and me, I might add. Just make your decision and get it over with. Or perhaps I should make it for you.”
I moved quickly toward the mantel and placed one hand on each figurine. “The grasshopper or the scorpion? Which one will it be, my deceitful Delilah?”
Forty-Seven
With my hands still on the figurines, I glared at her. “You can end it all right now, my sweet, or I can leave and escort the first of our guests into my home to join us in our merry-making. Which will it be?”
She turned her face away from me, and I closed my eyes tightly, hung my head, and felt each figure under my palms. If I moved one, it would bring instant death to many, end my life of perpetual torment, and end Christine’s need to make a decision. If I turned the other, our lives would go on, my torment would go on, and Christine and Raoul would leave and marry. Oh, how my heart ached, as it waged a war with my mind.
“Which do I turn, my dear?”
She lowered her head and began sobbing again, so, growling, I stormed toward the door to the lake and away from her and the two figurines vying for our attention.
“Then I must leave you alone and escort them in.” I opened the door and turned while laughing at her. “You won’t go away now—will you?”
My boat wasn’t on my side of the lake for me to use, which was just as well. So I found a reed, took off my coat and shoes, slipped into the water, and began swimming through the labyrinth toward the wharf. I kept watching and listening, but there was nothing for about five minutes. Then I saw a faint light that I thought was coming from my lantern in my boat.
Oded, I thought, he’s doing it again. No need to hum through the reed, he would never fall for that trick a second time. Therefore, I kept swimming slowly until I could see my boat, but I couldn’t see a man’s form in it. So I continued on, preparing to dip below the water just as soon as I saw someone.
The closer I got, the more cautious I became, feeling I could be swimming into a snare. Slowly, I swam closer and closer. When I was right up against it, I went to its bow and placed my palms on the hull. When I didn’t feel movement inside, I knocked on it, put my palms on it again, waiting to see if I felt anything. I repeated that movement two more times, and when I still didn’t get a response, I cautiously lifted myself up and looked inside. Then, with only a moment of confusion, I found just one item in the boat, a long white silk scarf like the one Raoul wore.
Since I still felt I might be sitting in the middle of an ambush, I hung onto the side of the boat, watching and listening. I was there for some time before I felt safe enough to turn the lantern off and start pulling my boat toward my docking room.
After throwing the scarf around my neck, I entered the drawing room where Christine was still tied to the chair. She looked up at me, and I instantly felt something was amiss. She appeared to be in shock, as if she didn’t expect me to return. I walked in front of her, dripping wet, and holding the scarf out in front of her face.
“Does this look familiar to you? I believe one of our guests decided to leave it as a wedding present. And look at this beautiful crest. It’s engraved with a large C, perhaps for Christine, so this one must be for you. Perhaps mine will show up before the day is out.”
She looked at the crest, and her eyes became wide, so I pushed her further. “Oh, it does look familiar to you. I thought it might.”
“What have you don
e?” she accused.
Like a caged animal, I paced slowly in front of her, and mocked. “Oh, my dear, dear Christine, why does everyone expect the worst from me? Why do you think I did something wrong just because someone left us a gift, our first wedding gift?”
I tied it in a fashionable knot at my neck and turned in a circle. “Well, my dear, how does your groom look? Quite dashing, you say? Now I’m just as prepared for our wedding as you are, except my attire isn’t splattered with blood.” I spread my arms out from my sides. “I’ve even taken a bath for my bride. I know I promised I wouldn’t take another cold bath in that lake, but I had to be presentable for our nuptial chamber.”
I wasn’t getting the response I thought I would, so I studied her eyes for a moment. Something had changed. She now looked more nervous than frightened, and it wasn’t an act. I looked at the door to the lake and wondered, had I unwittingly led someone to my home? Was the empty boat and scarf only a ploy after all? Had someone managed to outsmart me?
I stood perfectly still and listened for any sound on the other side of the door, but all I heard were Christine’s nervous breaths. She was definitely anxious, but why now? She had every right to be nervous when I was threatening to take her to her bed, but not now. Something had unquestionably changed.
“Remember, Christine, when we promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other? I believe you’re keeping a secret from your betrothed now. Are you going to go to our wedding with that secret? Or perhaps you’ll go to your grave with that secret. I see it in your eyes, so don’t try to deny it.” She looked down, and I placed my fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “Look in my eyes, my love, and tell me your secret,” I said softly.
She squirmed, but she didn’t turn away. Then she looked me directly in the eyes and presented her case. “There’s no secret, Erik. What you see is my pain. My wrists hurt badly. Please, Erik, untie me.”
“Untie you? Do you really think I’m that much of a fool? You want me to untie you so you can stab me in the back? You and Raoul make a great pair. Neither of you has the courage to face me while trying to rip out my heart. Well, let me tell you something. Not since I was a child have I ever walked into a trap—never, and I’m not about to walk into one now.”
“Just look at my wrist and you’ll see I’m not lying or laying a trap for you.”
I stepped behind her and knelt down, and then my heart sank. Her wrists were welted and bleeding, and I hung my head in sorrow. In that instant, I felt my staunch demeanor slipping beyond my control, and I refused to let that happen. Therefore, after a deep breath, I calmly stood in front of her and continued my mocking.
“Shame, shame, shame,” I hissed. “I warned you. I told you my lassos wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t struggle. From the looks of your wrists, you really must have been struggling. Do you want to get away from me that badly?” I wagged my head. “When will you learn? Do things my way and no one gets hurt.”
She looked directly into my eyes again and then slightly shook her head. “Erik, think about what you’re saying. Think about what you’re doing. Do you honestly expect me to just sit here and wait for you to kill me? I’m not a lamb you can simply lead to the slaughter. I will fight you in any way I can. I’ve tried telling you the truth. I’ve tried reasoning with you, but you don’t want to believe the truth or be reasonable, so I’m going to fight you until you either let me go or kill me. I won’t simply lie down and die.
“I know you’re larger and stronger than me, and I know you could snap my neck in an instant if you really wanted to. So, since I’m still alive, I know you don’t really want to kill me. You tied me to this chair so I couldn’t try to kill myself again, so I know you don’t want me dead. Please, Erik. Your lassos are truly hurting my wrists. Untie me—please.”
I stood up straight and looked down at her. Something had changed while I was gone, and she had newfound emotional strength because of it. I glanced around the parlor and wondered what it was. Perhaps someone was in the mirror chamber. After a few moments, I knew the only way I could know was to leave her alone again and see what happened. So I untied her and then stood back in front of her.
“I apologize for your poor wrists, Christine. I hurt you, and I never intended to hurt you. I love you, and I only want you to love me. I never wanted to hurt the woman I love. Perhaps I am crazy as you suggested. Perhaps I deserve nothing more than death. Perhaps I should sing my own requiem and crawl into my casket.” Then softly, I added, “Forgive me.”
Without another word from either of us, I turned and walked into my music room and shut the door. While I changed into dry clothes, I thought over what had just happened. My apology to her began as an act but ended with my heart sensing pain. I heard my words to her and began to believe they were right. I deserved nothing more than death. But since I didn’t want to feel pain, I pushed it off and began demanding my organ to cover over my torture with music. The shelves on the walls vibrated with the thunder of sound when I sang out my own requiem.
Once finished, I sat there until the objects in the room came back into clear focus. In the silence, I massaged my aching neck and shoulder and knew I had no choice. I was insane. What I’d done to her proved it, and I had to let her go before I did something that couldn’t be undone.
I lowered my head and sighed, “I have to let my Christine go.”
When I entered the parlor, she was standing behind my chair, but I didn’t even glance at her. Instead, I headed for the bag of keys on the mantle, intending to lock the ebony boxes and bring the curtain down prematurely on my demented opera. But, when I got there, the bag was gone, and it didn’t take a genius to know where it went.
Scowling, I turned instantly toward Christine, who was by then standing in the center of the room with one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt. Her deceit was written clearly across her porcelain face, and I shook my head in utter disbelief that she would turn on me again so quickly. However, she did warn me that she wasn’t going to simply lie down and die.
“What have you done with my bag, Christine? You aren’t hiding it in your skirt, are you?” She just stared at me. “Give me my bag!” She still didn’t respond. “Don’t make me wrestle you for it, I don’t believe you’ll win.” She still stood still. “Very well then,” I said as I started slowly toward her, smiling. “I’ve never wrestled with a woman before, but how hard could it be? I imagine it might even be fun.”
She turned and darted toward the dining room, and I laughed. “Where do you think you’re going? There’s nowhere to go, but around in circles like a child’s merry-go-round.” By then she was at the end of the table by the kitchen, and I was at the other end by the parlor. I laughed more. “Silly child. I’m not in the mood for your childish game. Give me my bag.”
I stood motionless and watched her eyes, intently, waiting for her slight distraction. She couldn’t handle my stare for long, so, when she glanced behind me, I jumped up on the table, and she darted for the parlor. Then I jumped down right in front of her, wrapping my arms completely around her. She squirmed and moaned, and I laughed and lowered my face to hers.
“That was much easier than I thought it would be, even with my painful and damaged shoulder. You make lousy prey, my dear. No challenge at all.” I ran one hand down her arm until I had her empty hand and pressed it against her back, which pressed her entire body against mine. Within the next few seconds, I had her other hand in mine and then wrenched the bag from it, causing her to cry out. The entire process took less than thirty seconds, but I held her in that position for a bit longer.
“You know, my dear, under different circumstances, I’d have cherished having you this close to me, but there’s this nagging little voice somewhere inside my head that’s distracting me from enjoying this moment. What could it be?” I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes. “Oh, yes, I believe it’s called anger, my anger over your continuing deceit.
“You know something else? I was on my way out here to r
elease you. Oh, you look surprised. Well, I was. I felt bad about my conduct, so I was going to cage our friends over there and set you free from your cage. But, once again, your traitorous actions have nullified all my benevolent and mistaken feelings. Too bad. Too bad.”
Then I hissed, “You fool. Do you still doubt that I get what I want? How much more is it going to take for you to become a believer in what I say? What more do I have to do to you, you foolish, foolish woman?”
“No, Erik, let me explain. I only wanted to lock the boxes back up. I know you don’t want to do this. I know you, and I know you’re going to be so sorry when this is over. I know you’re not going to go through with what you say, and I just wanted to help you get to that point. I swear. I was just going to lock them back up.”
Her lips spoke to me such nice words, but her eyes were telling me she was holding something back. There was something she wasn’t telling me, so I jerked her closer to me, causing her to moan.
“Erik, you’re hurting me.”
“And what do you call what you’ve done to me?—Something pleasurable?—Perhaps a Sunday stroll through the park?”
She doubled up her fist and began beating on my left shoulder, but I only laughed at her. “You’re not using your head, my sweet. If you really want to hurt me, you should try beating on my right shoulder. Have you forgotten its condition? Have you forgotten how your lover shot me in the back?”
She groaned and tried to reach over to my right shoulder, but I had her wrist in my hand and pinned it to her back along with the other one. I laughed again and jerked her closer to me.
“Erik, you’re really hurting me. Let me go!”
At the end of her words, I heard a sound behind me, like a groan, and I turned both of us quickly. Then I remembered how she’d given away my secret passage. I looked down at her, and, within a second, the expression in her eyes as well as the scene we’d just played spelled everything out to me.
Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine Page 68
