"Now, M'sieur, I think you should dry yourself very thoroughly and dress
in something warm. And
then, a hot drink, with perhaps a little cognac to ward off any possible
fevers. Shall we go into your
house?"
************
Holding his cloak tightly round him, Erik led the way into his lair.
The little angel followed him in,
chirruping happily at the warmth which greeted them, then floated over
the room to perch on the
organ stool.
"I will wait here for you, M'sieur, whilst you dress. Do not forget
to have a good, hot drink now".
The cherub accompanied this instruction with a ripple of harp-strings.
Erik stumbled into his bedroom, totally bemused by the events of the
past few minutes. He towelled
himself vigorously, bringing a glow of warmth to his cold body. Dressing
quickly, he was about to
slip on the mask and wig when he realised that he had not been wearing
them whilst he was in the
water. He shrugged, and decided it was too late to worry that the little
creature floating around in his
lounge had seen him unmasked, so he left his face uncovered.
The Phantom made his way into his pantry and poured a little excellent
cognac into a glass. As he
sipped it and nibbled a couple of pastries, he lit the stove in order
to heat the water for some coffee.
The cold swim had refreshed him, his head was clear, and the white-hot
passion of his love for
Christine under iron control.
When the coffee was ready, he filled a large cup and poured a little
more cognac into it. He stepped
back into the parlour, wondering if this was all a figment of his imagination.
Had his disordered mind
caused him to hallucinate?
Then he heard the sweet sounds of a harp, and saw his small friend hovering
over his sheet music,
playing a few chords from his opera, Don Juan Triumphant.
**********
The cherub looked up from its occupation and welcomed him back, showing no sign of fear.
"Why, M'sieur Erik, this music is quite magnificent." The beatific little face was alight with pleasure.
"Once, I was sent to Herr van Beethoven when he was in black despair
because of his terrible
affliction - imagine being totally deaf and not able to hear such sublime
symphony. Your music is as
beautiful as that dear man's - truly, of the very soul."
Erik managed to murmur his thanks. Taking another gulp of his cognac,
he cleared his throat and
then asked, "Er...., may I know your name and where you are from?"
"Mais certainment, M'sieur", beamed the cherub. "My name is Dominie,
I am a girl-child and I am
of the cherubim who serve le bon Dieu. I come from celestial realms,
and I have many brothers and
sisters among the cherubim, seraphim and archangels who are the emissaries
of The Lord Almighty."
"I see", Erik said faintly. "Then I bid you most welcome. May I offer you some refreshment?"
"Oh no, thank you. That is not necessary. If you would like to settle
comfortably, then we may begin
to discuss your heartfelt plea, and how we may help you, guide you",
said the little angel.
Erik sat down on one of his Regency-striped armchairs, crossing one long leg over the other.
"It is very kind of you to come, Dominie", he said, "but I do not know quite where to begin."
************
"We do know of the bleakness of your life, M'sieur Erik", said the little
angel, eyes wide with
sympathy. "Le bon Dieu has longed to hear you call Him. He was very
sad when you denounced
Him all those years ago, but He understood your reasons. Now, He longs
to welcome you back into
His arms, my friend."
"Yes", muttered Erik, "I know I have been wicked and outrageous in some
instances of my life, but
what else could anyone expect from a monster?" he asked, with some
bitterness.
"Dear M'sieur Erik, do not say so", Dominie protested. "You are not
a monster, but a man with a
very troubled heart. I am here to help you rid yourself of the burden
you have carried for so long.
Tell me how you see yourself."
Erik set down his empty cup, and looking into the cherub's engaging
little face, said sadly, "All I ever
wanted was to be a normal man."
"But it seems", he continued, " that I will spend the rest of my life
under the ground, like some lost
creature, because the world considers me abnormal, inhuman. I have
reached the middle years of my
life, and most of those years have been spent avoiding men; escaping
from the world was forced
upon me."
"Now, I have found peace; almost contentment here beneath my Opéra
House. There is security for
me here, for which I have fought long and hard. Music is my salvation,
and here, it surrounds me
with unquestioning and beautiful benevolence. This place, this magnificent
Opera House, has given
me shelter, a safe haven, and music."
"My soul is here, but I am still alone, and will die alone." He looked
again into the cherub's clear
eyes, and said in a bleak voice, "No-one would ever know. No-one would
care. I would die as I
have lived - alone."
"I sound unmanly, I know; I appear a whining, blethering fool, but I..."
He stopped for a moment,
and then cried in low, passionate tones, "I hate my face, I hate the
life I am forced to live, and I truly
hate myself for what I have done during my life. I am depraved, evil
- I am not fit to even think of
loving Christine."
His voice tailed off and he sat speechless, twisting and turning the
plain gold ring he wore on his
smallest finger.
When he continued to speak, it was in a voice touched with despair.
"I have brought my beautiful
Angel of Music here to my house under the ground. She lies sleeping
in her bed, dreaming her sweet,
innocent dreams. Perhaps they are of the handsome young Vicomte who
visits her dressing-room."
"It was wrong of me to bring her here, to lure her with my voice. She
is no more than a child. But oh,
I love her so."
For long moments, Erik sat silently in tortured thought. Dominie sat
quietly, nodding her flaxen curls
in sensitive understanding; she continued to wait patiently until Erik
was able to speak again. When
he did, it was with some distress.
"Tell me this, if you can, little angel child. Why did He give me such a face?"
The question shot from Erik's contorted lips, his voice harsh with pain.
"Why -- why? People hate
me, curse my gruesome visage. They back away in fear and run from me,
unable to hide their terror.
It fills me with such rage, such contempt".
He spat out the words, the angry torment of his soul twisting his face.
His dark eyes in the sunken
sockets stared into some fathomless hell.
"Even my own mother.... my mother.....", he stopped, his breathing ragged,
rasping. "My mother,
Dominie, loathed and detested me from the day I was born. She could
not bear to look at me, but
covered my poor infant face with a.... a... mask. I was never to take
it off in her presence, or she
would scream at me."
Erik's eyes filled with tears as the years of his desolate, lonely childhood were painfully recalled.
"I had to dress myself, and bath myself...... I put myself to bed each
night, and I would cry because
my mother would not come to me. She would only stand in the doorway
and tell me to go to sleep."
"She would not touch me, ever, ever. And I, Dominie, I longed for her
to hold me. As I grew into a
little boy, I wanted her to hold me in her arms, to kiss my forehead,
to.... to love me. For I loved
her....... so very much."
Erik began to weep silently, the hot tears trickling down his parchment-coloured cheeks.
"She was so beautiful, with her long auburn hair, her great dark eyes
and her soft skin." Erik buried
his face in his hands as he spoke. "I did not understand why she....
could not l--love me."
"Oh certainly, she did not neglect me in a practical sense. I was always
dressed well, and fed well
with good, fresh food. She bought things for me to keep me busy and
occupied in my room, away
from her sight. My first violin....."
"She taught me to be well-mannered and courteous; to be a gentleman
at all times." Erik muttered
into his hands. Ironic, isn't it, really?
I was never permitted to meet anyone in order to practice my bow, or
wish them good day."
"Sometimes I wonder about my father, Dominie. I never knew him, for
he died before I was born.
Perhaps it is just as well, really. What man on this earth would have
been proud of a son such as I?
Perhaps he would have strangled me at birth....". Erik gave a humourless
laugh.
"It would have been better for everyone concerned, don't you think?"
His voice trailed away and he
was silent again, face still hidden by his hands.
The little angel had crept nearer and nearer to him. Timidly, she laid
a tiny hand on his arm. Erik
looked up into the sweet face, and an explosion of grief took hold
of him.
**********
Great, gasping sobs came in a paroxysm of weeping. Long years of pent-up
anguish shook his thin
body in shuddering spasms.
"Why could she not love me?" he wept. "Why? I just w..wanted her to love.. love m..me."
His shoulders shook convulsively with the most terrible and desolate
sobs. He wept with a
wretchedness so intense that Dominie's compassionate heart was overflowing
with sympathy as she
held on tightly to him.
Erik suddenly wrenched his hands from his face and cried, "And her nose,
Dominie, her nose was
small, and straight, and perfect. I craved such a nose, but look at
what I was blessed with". His
fingers jabbed at the hole in the gaunt face where the nose never grew.
The little angel clung to him, desperately longing to comfort him. "Forgive
me, petite", Erik
whispered. "I do not mean to be appear so weak, so idiotically feeble."
Dominie caught one of his hands and held it tightly in her warm little
fingers. Erik slumped back on
the chair, exhausted by the storm of weeping. She looked up at him
as his dark eyes stared blindly
ahead.
"I ran away from home when I was just a child. I wanted my mother to
be happy. I never saw her
again", he said dully. "She is dead now, I do know that. I tried to
forget her; impossible -
unthinkable."
Erik's voice was hoarse with tears. "Why can't I just be normal, Dominie?
Sometimes I feel so lost
and always so horribly alone."
The little angel brought the Phantom's hand up to kiss it, and then
let it rest against her cheek. She
said to him, "Erik, dear, dear Erik, I promise you - I vow to you -
that you will never be alone again.
Believe me when I say that."
***********
Go to Part 3 of Dream of Angels
by Erika Shadow.