I heard him let out a sob and another feeble plea that only angered me more. “You simpleminded unbeliever, you have no say in this either, so you also need to keep your mouth shut. This is between Christine and me. Besides, this isn’t only Oded’s fault. You have to accept your part in this drama. If you had let Christine come to me and talk as we agreed, I would have let her go if that’s what she truly wanted. But being the arrogant know-it-all that you are, you wanted to decide her fate for her.
“Well, look what’s happened. Now she has an even larger weight on her delicate shoulders. Are you proud of yourself? Your strategy surely didn’t work out well, now did it? Oh, by the way, do you still have those train tickets in your pocket? Weren’t they to be the way to end Christine’s problems? They aren’t doing any of you much good right now, are they? Perhaps they could be used as a fan to keep you cool, but that’s about all they’re good for. I believe it’s getting rather hot in there about now. The desert sun can certainly be a bother, can’t it?”
Christine whimpered, and I looked at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear. I’ve left you out of the conversation. I’m so sorry. That’s truly rude of me. Is there something you’d like to say to your young lover?”
She just stared at me and shook her head. “What? No questions from this sweet curious creature? How strange. No more questions? That’s hard to believe. Those days you spent with me were filled with questions. Did you run out of them? That’s really hard to believe.”
She looked truly exhausted when she softly asked, “Erik, why are you doing this? You have a brilliant mind. There’s so much you could do in a positive way. Why use your intelligence to create ugliness?”
“Why? Why?” I laughed. “Because this is all I’ve been allowed to create. This ugliness, as you call it. Oh, I’ve made an effort to use my intelligence for positive creations, as you called them, but no one ever wanted them if they had to take this along with it,” I said as I tapped the side of my mask. “Why even this structure we’re in right now, as magnificent as all claim it to be, is nothing compared with my design.”
Her forehead slightly furrowed. “Oh, you didn’t know I also designed an opera house for Paris? Well, I did, but did they accept it? Another whopping no! And why? Again, because of this,” I said as I again tapped the side of my mask.
“My opera house,” I mused, while I looked up, spread my arms out, and turned in a circle. Then my tone almost lost its venom. “My opera house wouldn’t have moss-covered corridors or cold and drafty rooms. My opera house would have ventilation that would keep it cozy warm in the winter and refreshingly cool in the summer. My opera house wouldn’t have smelly and dirty gas lighting, it would have clean and bright electrical lights, just like my home down here does.
“It wouldn’t have a lake in its cellars. Its arches and architectural design would enhance the skyline of Paris and bring beauty to the eyes. My opera house would have an opera company that would never be matched. I would tutor each one of them as well as the orchestra. There would never be an out-of-tune instrument or a lazy musician. And my opera house wouldn’t be run by those who know more about shoveling horse manure than creating breathtaking music. No, my opera house would astound the world.
“Yes, people come to see the famed Opera Populaire, but most do so because they were coming to Paris anyway. But my opera house would draw people to it simply because of its beauty. I could build my opera house in the middle of a desert, and people would still come.”
I stopped and took a breath. Then there was quiet, complete quiet, until Christine tried again.
“You could still do that, Erik. You could still build and teach. I know that’s what you really want to do.”
I laughed loudly and stormed toward the chamber wall. Banging on it, I shouted, “Are you still alive in there? Are you listening to dear Christine’s try at saving your miserable lives?
Sure you are. Your trials have only just begun. It’s a shame you didn’t listen to me, Oded. Now my friend has thrown his lot in with my enemy and your fates are the same. You can’t be separated now. One in the same. No separation. One in the same.
“And as for you, my sweet pretty thing,” I said as I turned back toward Christine, “I don’t want your questions or comments to go unanswered. You see, I have tried. I’m 45 and I’ve tried. Repeatedly, I might add. But if a son can’t have a mother’s love then what hope is there for him to receive acceptance from anyone else? Absolutely no chance. That’s why you found me here, trying to live out the remainder of my life without interference. But was I even allowed that modest request?”
I turned my head toward the mirror chamber and shouted, “No! I’m hunted even here and even by those claiming to be my friends,” I said as I glared at Christine. “Well, no more. No more. The world has never won a game played against me, never. I always win, don’t I, Oded?
“Oh, it’s managed to check me at times and block my way, but I always find a way around those efforts. And, when I find that way, I only get better at what I do. Like that mirror chamber. The original had many flaws, but I learned. I’m always learning, and I never forget anything. Like this opera house. If I’d been in charge all these years, I can’t begin to describe all the advancements I could have made to it. I can’t even begin to explain them all.
“And you, Christine. Your voice is unmatched right now, but, with my further training there would be no limits. Can you imagine what an entire opera company would sound like under my tutelage? I’m only bound by human limitations. This broken body is all that prevents me from even grander inventions—unimaginable inventions. You’ve seen only the beginning of them, Christine.”
I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and spoke softly. “But, no matter—no matter. It’s over now. Unless,” I said as I looked back at Christine. “Unless you agree to marry me, then all of this—this drama—this opera house—this thing called life will be over.”
Forty-Nine
My rant over, the parlor became silent. Christine was standing behind my chair, and I was standing in the middle of the room, listening to my own labored breathing. Then, when I suddenly had difficulty focusing both my mind and my vision, I walked to a dining chair and leaned with one hand on its back. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my stiff neck and aching shoulder, but it didn’t help. Then I became seriously hot and sweaty, and instantly I felt sick to my stomach.
When I realized what was happening to me, I glanced at Christine, knowing I was about ready to fall into unconsciousness. Unable to fathom what would happen to us all if I did, I instantly went to the kitchen and locked myself in.
I couldn’t remember when I’d slept or eaten last—probably several days—and the last I’d had anything to drink was at least fourteen hours earlier. Therefore, I instantly began drinking all the water I could take in while grabbing cheese and bread out of the pantry. I stripped my mask and shirt off and sat on a stool, shoveling all I could into my mouth and washing it down with wine. At the same time, I fanned my body, trying to cool it down.
I stayed in that position, sitting on the stool with one elbow on my knee and my head in one hand, while, with the other hand, I kept feeding myself and drinking wine. Eventually, I began to feel better, physically, that is. Emotionally, I was somewhat numb, and I wasn’t sure why I was forcing everyone to bend to my will.
Once I felt good enough to get to my feet, I replaced my shirt and mask and put the cheese and bread on a plate and poured another glass of wine. Then, with two glasses of wine and the plate of food, I returned to the parlor and found Christine standing by the steps in the wall and whispering to the muffled voices on the other side of it. I didn’t even try to understand what they were saying. I knew they were again plotting against me, and then I remembered why I was forcing my will.
Nevertheless, I set everything on the small table by the couch and calmly told her, “You need to eat and drink this. It’s been awhile. You need nourishment.”
She ran her hand over her f
orehead, and, in a faint voice, asked, “Erik, it’s much too warm in here. Can you make it cooler?”
“Aha! The wall you’re beside is warm because of the African forest on the other side of it. That’s what you saw when you looked in. It can be quite beautiful, but it can also be quite deadly. Oh, the climate,” I sighed dramatically while walking toward her. “Sometimes we’re at the mercy of the weather changes without warning—are we not?
“But then sometimes,” I added, while projecting my voice toward the chamber, “we have ample warning and can protect ourselves from it quite nicely. Ah, but if we choose to ignore the danger signs and proceed without caution, can we blame anyone else for our error?”
I looked down at Christine and snarled, “Those fools, who now find themselves in my ingeniously constructed African forest, must pay the price for refusing to heed my warnings about staying away from my lair.”
She was breathing with difficulty and lowered her head and eyes, so I lifted her face with my fingers under her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. I began laughing at her and the other ignorant fools who thought they could outsmart me. I continued to laugh until I heard banging and yelling on the other side of the wall.
It sounded like Raoul, and I looked at Christine just as she went limp and collapsed on the floor. I picked her up by the shoulders and dragged her the few meters to the divan where I laid her down. Without feeling any emotion for her, I stormed across the room and into my music room, slamming the door behind me. I released my anger one more time on the keys of my organ until I was spent, then I sat with my eyes closed, listening to the silence.
When I returned to the drawing room, Christine was still on the divan. The only light in the room was coming from my music room and the window to the mirror chamber. Since I wanted to get a closer look at Christine, I replaced the picture over the window and turned on a light. Then I sat on the table near her and laid my fingers along the side of her neck, feeling for a pulse. I sighed when I found a strong one.
It was very quiet, both in the drawing room and on the other side of the wall, so I sat and watched her. With her there before me like that, without the fear and treachery in her eyes, my love for her began to flow again, and one more time I began to question what I was doing. Perhaps I should let her go and then end my life and all the suffering it brought to others.
“Oh, my dear God, what am I doing?” I whispered. “Oh, Christine, what am I doing to you?”
I removed my mask and laid my face in my palms, listening to my father’s words. Don’t let others determine who you are, Erik. I’d heard his voice often during my life, but never before was so much at stake. Was I allowing Christine’s and Raoul’s words and actions to control who I was right then? I don’t believe I’d ever plotted to murder anyone before just for my own will. Could I go through with my plans and kill so many people? If I didn’t, could I live with the thought of Christine in Raoul’s arms forever? Could I do either?
Don’t let others determine who you are, Erik. I heard his voice again. But who was I, and why was I there? Why was I even born?
I was in that mode of thinking and seriously considering letting everyone go when I heard pounding on the wall and loud voices coming from the mirror chamber. So I got up and moved close to it.
“Oh, how foolish some of us are, now aren’t we, you tenacious daroga? Just like my sweet bride here. Her decisions aren’t coming easily, and soon she’ll pass her decision-making over to me. But you’ve already made your decision, and now you’ll pay for it, you and my wife’s lover.
“Bad decisions—bad decisions. How often we might make them, but you’ll not have long to suffer the consequences of this one. We don’t have much longer before the opera house will be full of arrogant ones, so unsuspecting of the fate that will befall them. Not much longer and we’ll all sing our swan song together—all together Oded. Then it will be over—finally, all over.”
“Erik, please,” was his only response, to which I paid no attention.
“You sound as if you’re getting tired, Mon Ami. Would you like to rest now?”
There was still no answer, so I pressed the spring that turned the bright light out in the chamber and another one that made a thousand twinkling stars appear above their heads. Then I spoke in a hushed voice.
“Night has fallen in the jungle, so, if you rest, rest cautiously. The night creatures are on the prowl, especially the black panther who is so silent—so deadly.”
I waited a few minutes, and then I began to growl low, mimicking our four-footed predators. I heard their voices and movement, and then after a few minutes I did it again. I repeated it one more time, and then, while smiling, I went to my chair and sat down, watching Christine once more.
I wasn’t there more than a minute and was looking at the clock, calculating how much time she had left before I would make the decision for her, when I heard a gunshot. It took me so much by surprise that I jumped to my feet with my heart pounding. My first thought was of blood, and that perhaps one of them had shot himself. But when I listened to their conversation, I knew the hallucinations had completely taken them over, and that someone, most likely Raoul, had shot at an imaginary predator.
Oded was fighting desperately to keep his senses by talking almost nonstop to Raoul. Courageously, he tried to explain to him that everything was only due to my tricks. He was trying to find the spring that would open the door but kept losing his place because of having to take care of Raoul. At one point, Raoul must have put the pistol to his head, and I’m sure, if it weren’t for Oded, he would have finished himself off right then.
I was surprised they were still alive. I don’t know how long they were in there before I found out about them, but it had been over fourteen hours since I first discovered them. I’m sure it was because Oded knew what he was fighting that gave him what he needed to survive. Again I thought about the importance of always knowing your opponent. He knew me too well.
I went back to sitting in my chair and listening to the silence, with the exception of occasional voices from the other side of the wall. Christine was beginning to stir when I heard a gasp from the mirror chamber, so I moved to the wall to listen more closely.
“Raoul!” Oded exclaimed. “Come toward my voice.” There were a few more silent moments until I heard another gasp. “Can you feel that cool air coming from this crack? I believe we’ve found one of Erik’s trap doors. This could be our way out.”
I knew then that somehow Oded had found the trap door leading down into my wine cellar. I sighed and went back to my chair, preparing for my next move. They might have thought they were saved, but they’d only moved their pawns to a different space. They in no way had me checkmated.
Only a few moments of angry thought, and I was back at the wall, turning off the heat and chanting, “Barrels—barrels—any barrels to sell?”
I chanted that same phrase a few more times, and then went to the fireplace and looked at my two bronze figurines. I stretched out both my arms on the mantle and tried to think. I hadn’t figured on that change in events, so I had to think clearly. With them in the wine cellar, with the barrels of gunpowder, if they disturbed them in any way or lit a match for a lantern, we could all be blown up prematurely. But the gunpowder was my power right then, and if I flooded the cellar then I would lose that power. I felt I had no choice except to silence an explosion before it could occur. I had my hand on the scorpion and prepared to turn it when Christine shrieked.
“Erik! No!”
I was standing with my hand on the scorpion, and over my shoulder I glared at her sitting on the divan. “You’ve used up your time while you slept, my dear. I must make your decision for you.”
“No, Erik, please wait. I’ll tell you yes if you let me in the other room.”
I laughed at her, knowing the wine cellar, and eventually the mirror chamber, would be flooded with water, so there was nothing for her to worry about, but she pleaded anyway.
“Please, E
rik, let me go into the next room and I’ll stay with you forever.”
“Forever? Are you certain? And what about a wedding? Will there be a wedding?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you without delay, just let me in there.”
“You lying wench. You told me you would marry me if I turned off the light. Well the light is out, so where is my yes?”
She was quiet, with an open mouth and wide eyes, while I waited for her response. I could hear my breathing increase along with my temper.
“I tire of this game, my dear. I tire of this game called my life. I want a normal life, Christine, with a wife and walks in the park. But all you care about is your lover in the next room. Your lips may tell me yes, but your heart will always tell me no, isn’t that right? So what difference will it make? None whatsoever.” I scowled at her. “Then you do it. You turn the scorpion, and it will all be over. Do it—turn the scorpion!”
We stood staring at each other with only our labored breathing being heard. Then I growled and turned back to the mantle and again she screamed while getting to her feet.
“No, Erik, don’t! How do I know you’re telling me the truth and the scorpion is the one I should turn?”
My anger was rising quickly, as I stepped toward her and grasped her shoulder. “You’re accusing me of lying to you? No—I don’t lie. Unlike you, who promised you’d return and tell me goodbye, I’m not lying. But then, am I lying about not lying. Lies, lies, lies. You know, sometimes I tell so many lies to cover lies that I forget where I was going or where I came from. Lies, lies, lies. If you tell enough of them they can twist into knots and choke you. Now where was I? Was I trying to tell you the truth or was I lying. I can’t remember.
“No matter, I guess. You won’t know the truth until you find the courage to turn one of the figures. I tell you turn the scorpion, and you’ll save the lives of many Parisians above us this evening, but that will mean you’re saying yes to me. If you turn the grasshopper, then I’ll only have a moment to suffer the pain of knowing that your final answer is no.”
Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine Page 71
