Erik - Chapter 27

I shook my head and said, "There's no need-I'll take the metro home tonight.  I'd really like to have some time to myself."

The doorman nodded and said, "I know what you mean.  It's been a godawfull day today, hasn't it?  I'm glad it's almost over!  Poor Carlos!  What a way to go!"

I nodded my head as well and said, "It's so tragic!  He had his whole future ahead of him, too!"

In a sympathetic tone of voice, he said, "And I'm so sorry for you, too.  We had all hoped that...well...that this would be another legendary romance here at the opera house.  You know, of course, the story of Christine and Tomislav, and...well...I, at least, was hoping to see another fairy-tale love story.  But, instead, we've all seen yet another tragedy!  This opera house is a great place to launch a career, but the lousiest place in the world to find happiness!"  Then, he added in a more business-like tone of voice, "Are you sure you don't want me to call a taxi for you?  After what happened to Carlos, I don't want anything to happen to you as well.  Besides, you remember what happened to you last winter!"

I nodded, remembering not only the events of the past twenty-four hours, but also the attack on me the previous January, and then said, "I don't know...it probably won't make any difference if I take a taxi or the metro.  If someone's going to assault me, they'll do it anyway, regardless of any preventive measures I might take.  No, I'll take the metro.  I should be all right.  Have a nice vacation, André!"  I waved to him and then left the opera house.

After I left, I went to the metro station near by to take the train home.  The station was still crowded especially for that time of night, for it was nearly midnight, but I attributed it to the upcoming Bastille Day holiday.  It was just as well that the station was crowded that night, for I wanted to be alone with my thoughts.  I'm glad André thought Carlos and I would make a good couple, because I sure don't!  Me?  With a skirtchaser like him?  Never!  Still, what a terrible end!  Who would hate him enough to do him is?  I really didn't hate him-I just didn't appreciate him coming on to me like he did! I thought as I went through the turnstile.  As I stood on the platform waiting for the train to arrive, a man dressed in black walked up next to me, and in a familiar voice said, "I thought you would at least stick around the opera house long enough to say good-bye."  I turned and saw Erik standing next to me, dressed in his usual black, wearing his black trench coat and a black fedora.
I stood there on the platform and exclaimed softly, "Erik!  What are you doing here?"

Speaking softly, he said, "This really isn't a good place to talk.  Why don't you come with me."  He then offered his arm, and we left the station and walked nearly two kilometers before he stopped at a dark-colored car parked on the right side of the street and said, "We can talk on the way."

"What do you mean?  Where are we going?" I asked.

Erik sighed, and then, in an authoritative manner said, "My dear, you are in much need of rest and relaxation.  You've been working almost non-stop for over ten months, with only a day or two off during that entire time!  Quite frankly, you need to take a vacation, and I know of no better place to take one than in the countryside!"
I sighed as well, for the evening's events were catching up to me.  "I suppose you're right.  I do need a vacation, but where exactly are you taking me?  Besides, I need to tell the Fontaines that I'm going with you and that I'll be back...when?" I replied.

"I've already called them for you and told them you would be back in a month, which is just as well, since they'll also be gone.  They told me they plan to spend most of their time camping on the Brittany coast, along with half of Paris, I might add!" he commented dryly.

I chuckled at his remark, for I knew he was only half-joking, because Parisians, like everyone else, like to get away from it all but in doing so run into everyone else who has the same idea as they!   Then, in a serious tone of voice, I replied, "But I still have this to take care of!"  I retrieved the letter from my ex-husband's lawyer and gave it to Erik.  He frowned as he looked at it, so I added, "It's from my ex's lawyer.  I need to get with Mme. Renard on Monday so we can respond to it quickly."

Erik pressed his lips together, and then said in a determined manner, "This can wait!  Business comes to nearly a stand-still this time of year in France.  This...lawyer should know that!  No, my dear.  I must insist that you go on vacation...now!"

Seeing that he was not to be deterred, I shrugged my shoulders and said meekly, "I suppose you're right.  This can wait a few days."

Erik nodded in satisfaction and said, "That's more like it!  Now, your carriage awaits, my dear!"  He then bowed a little bow, swept his right arm, and then opened the passenger door of the car we were standing next to, and added, "And now, we're off!"

"Where exactly are you taking me?" I asked as I got in and buckled my seatbelt.

"Why, to my dacha of course!" Erik said as he closed the door, and then walked around to the driver's side.  As he got in and sat down, he added, "Actually, it's my sister's place but she lets me stay there whenever I want."  After he buckled his seatbelt, he started the engine, turned on the headlights, put the gear in reverse, and turned around to his right to see his way as he maneuvered the car out of its' parking spot, and onto the street.  I smiled to myself, and seeing that, Erik asked, "What?"

I shook my head, and said softly, "I didn't know you knew how to drive.  For that matter, I didn't know you had a car!"

He smiled as well as he drove through the heavy traffic.  Finally he said, "There's a lot you don't know about me!  Of course I know how to drive!  All men who are men know how to drive!  It's just that I'm like most Parisians-I never drive unless I have to!  As for the car, I rented it for the duration of our vacation."

As we drove on the dark city streets, lit only by the headlights and taillights of the cars in front of and back of us, I asked, "So where is this dacha of yours?"  I smiled again only this time, it was over Erik's usage of the word "dacha".  I wonder why he calls it that?  Shouldn't he use the word "cabin" or "cottage"? I thought as we made our way through the city.

"It's quite away from here-nearly a five-hour drive!  Since we have such a long drive ahead of us, why don't you get some rest?  There's a wrap on the seat behind you, along with  a small pillow as well.  There's also a knob down on the bottom of your seat on the right.  You can use that to lower the back of your seat."  I felt along the bottom edge of my seat and found the knob to which he referred.  I turned it and the back of my seat lowered a little.  "There, that's it!  Now, just relax.  We'll be there before you know it!" Erik continued as I retrieved the pillow and velvet wrap, which in spite of its lightweight character, was quite adequate for the growing coolness of the evening.  The pillow was a small one but it, like the wrap, met my needs for the moment.

"Where'd you get the velvet?" I asked sleepily, several minutes later.  I must have been more tired than I thought, for although we were not yet out of the city, I was already getting drowsy from the car ride.

"For the wrap, you mean?" Erik asked as he switched on the wiper blades.  It had begun to rain lightly, which only added to the gloom of the dark, unlit road we were on.

"Yes," I replied softly.

Erik glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and smiled.  "Good-you're relaxing.  As for the wrap, I acquired the velvet for it from the opera house a long time ago.  The costume department was going to throw it out, if you can believe it!"  Glancing at me again, and then turning his eyes back to the road, he added, "I know that seems hard to believe, but of course, that was back when the government owned the opera house and ran the company.  You wouldn't believe the waste of resources!  And people wonder why the company went through so many managers!  Ah, the French taxpayers' franc at work!"

"It's nice though-just right for a night like this!  Did you finish it around the edges?" I murmured.  As I have said before, when I am tired, I say dumb things, and this was no exception to that rule.

Erik chuckled and said, "No, my sister did that.  It's too bad she and her husband decided not to go to the dacha for the weekend.  It would have been nice to have you two meet.  Now, just lay back and go to sleep.  We have quite a long way to go!"

I remember very little about the drive to Erik's country place, except for the length of the drive itself.  I thought we had reached the journey's end when we reached the city of Tours, but Erik said that was only the first leg of our journey.  Then I felt the car turn right and head southwest, and when we reached the city of Angers, I thought we had reached our destination, but Erik said that that, too, was just a portion of our trip.  I really did not want to bother Erik as he drove through the city and finally turn left onto a narrow two-lane road, but I was curious.  Finally, I asked sleepily, "Just how much further do we have to go?"

"We're long past the half-way point but it will be another two hours, my dear.  It's raining quite heavily right now and I have to drive much slower than I normally would.  Try to get some sleep, my dear.  We'll be there soon, I promise," Erik said softly in a reassuring tone of voice, as he downshifted and slowed down a little.  I tried to do as he asked but it was difficult, for after spending over eleven months of my life in a city that never sleeps, the quiet of the countryside seemed almost unnerving, as was the heavy downpour that we were driving through.  Funny how France gets soaked and the Midwest, especially Missouri and Colorado are dry as a bone! I thought as we made our way through the storm.

Finally, after passing through several villages, we turned left and went east a couple of kilometers before reaching yet another village.  As we passed through the village and drove over the bridge that spanned a small stream, Erik said, "We just went through Vouvant.  That's the Mere river we're driving over right now, which means we're nearly there!"  The road then made a sharp turn to the right and after a couple of kilometers, Erik turned onto a narrow country lane and drove yet another kilometer before turning off the road and pulling up to a small house, which had a large group of trees behind it.  "We're here, finally!" he exclaimed as he stopped the car and turned off the engine.  Then, taking the watch out of the inside pocket of his coat, he opened it and said, "It took us a little under five hours to get here-I was almost right on the nose!  Well, let's get inside.  This storm's not going to let up any time soon!"  He quickly got out of the car and ran over to my side before letting me out as well.  We quickly ran to the front door of the house, and after retrieving his key to the door, he opened it and we quickly entered the house.  He then turned to flip the light switch, but frowned as the room remained dark.  "The power must be out again.  Well, we'll just have to do things the old-fashioned way.  Close the door behind you-we don't want to let the rain in as well!  Stay here, though, for a moment while I get us some light!"  He disappeared into the dark house, leaving me standing by the closed door, which was behind me.  Exhausted by the long drive and the events of the past evening, I leaned against it and listened to the rain fall and Erik's footsteps fade away as he went in search of a light.  I heard a door open in the distance and footsteps descending a set of stairs.  Then, in a few moments, I heard footsteps growing louder and finally a gleam of light appeared at a doorway in the distance.  It grew larger, and finally Erik appeared at it, holding two old-fashioned oil lamps.  "Welcome to my dacha, or should I say, my sister's dacha, since the deed is in her name.  I'm sorry that the accommodations are not up to standard, but the power is definitely out!  I tried the fuse-box while I was downstairs, and as you can see, other than these lamps, there's no light!"  I tried to smile to make him feel less embarrassed at the circumstances and, as I did so, he said softly, "My dear, in spite of this dim light, I can see that you are tired after this long trip.  I think it's time I put you to bed.  Follow me to your bedroom!"  He came towards me with the lamps and I could then see that there was a set of stairs directly in front of me that ascended to an upper level.  I followed his as he led me up the stairs to an alcove which stretched the entire length of the house, which, as it turns out, was not very long at all.  At the end nearest us was a wardrobe with a dressing table to the left of it.  I then saw a set of closed curtains to the left of the dressing table and against the far wall was a bed with a huge carved headboard and a small night stand in the corner to the right of the bed.

"This is very nice of you, Erik, but I have to ask-where's the bathroom?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, my dear, this house has no indoor plumbing of any kind.  However, we are equipped for emergencies!" he replied.  He then placed one lamp on the dressing table and the other on the night stand before bending over one side of the bed and pulling out a large pot from underneath.  Seeing the look on my face, he added, "Well, it's either this or you go outside-and I don't recommend that for anyone right now!"
I nodded and exclaimed softly, "I'm so desperate right now, I could care less!"

Erik smiled and then said, "Before I bid you good night and go downstairs, let me check and see if Slavitska..."  His voice trailed off for a moment as he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it.  He then continued by saying, "Yes, she left her extra nightgown here.  I'm sure she won't mind if you borrow it.  She also left her summer robe behind, so you can use that as well.  Before I go downstairs, I would ask that you please leave your clothes on the floor-all of them, please!  Most hosts don't want their guests to be slobs, but I have a reason for asking this."  I nodded my assent, and he then said, "Well then, I bid you good night!"  He then walked up to me, took my hand, and kissed it slowly.

"But, where are you going to sleep?" I asked, protesting mildly.

Erik smiled and said, "Slavitska keeps a cot for me down in the basement.  I'll be just fine, as will you, after a good night's rest!  I'll see you in the morning!"  Still holding my hand, he kissed it again before letting it go.  He then took the lamp from the dressing table and went downstairs, leaving me to undress in private.  I smiled to myself, thinking, Always the gentleman!, as I undressed.  Leaving my clothes in a sodden heap, I put on the nightgown I found hanging in the wardrobe.  The nightgown, made of pink cotton batiste, was large and long with short, raglan sleeves, which were trimmed at the edges with light pink lace.  After I put on the nightgown, I then went over to the side of the bed and squatted down to use the chamber pot, taking care to remove the lid before I did so.  Of all the times to have a peanut-sized bladder! I thought as I finished urinating, forgetting of course, that I had just completed a five hour drive from Paris, with no stops along the way.  After I finished, I found a roll of toilet tissue on the bottom shelf of the night stand, and after wiping myself, I put the used tissue into the pot along with my urine, and put the lid back on the chamber pot before placing it in front of the night stand.  This ought to remind me to take this out tomorrow morning! I thought to myself as I pulled back the covers to go to bed.  After I got into bed, I turned to the night stand and turned the knob on the side of the oil lamp to turn down the flame.  I was simply so tired at that point that I decided to leave the lamp on, so I just turned over and soon fell asleep.

The next thing I knew, light was coming into my room from the curtained area of the wall on my left and I heard a piano playing "The Entertainer".  It's too early for Scott Joplin! I thought as I rolled over onto my right side and tried to go back to sleep.  After the piano finished playing, I heard footsteps ascend the stairs and a familiar voice ask, "Are you going to sleep all day?"

Opening one eye, I murmured, "What time is it?"

"A little after noon," Erik replied, and then added in a commanding tone of voice, "You've already missed breakfast!  Do you plan to miss lunch as well?"

I moaned softly, and then rolling onto my back, I said, "All right, I'll get up!"  As I got out of bed, I added, "Oh, yeah...but where is it?"

"Where's what?" Erik asked.

"The chamber pot!  I was going to empty it out this morning, and now I can't find it!  And the lamp!  I was going to turn that out as well, but I couldn't figure out how to do it without burning my fingers!" I replied.
Smiling, Erik said mischievously, "A fine way to greet your host this lovely day!  You haven't even said how you slept last night!  I cleaned out the chamber pot earlier this morning while you were still sleeping, It's back underneath the bed-where it belongs, I might add!  As for the lamp, I took it downstairs last night after you fell asleep.  You must not have slept well in the car--you were so deep in sleep that I don't even think you heard me when I got up this morning!"  Then, he added, "The privy's out back behind the house.  Now that it's daylight and the storm's over, you can use it!"  He then turned from the head of the stairs where he had been standing and descended the stairs.  I put on the robe that was hanging in the wardrobe and descended the stairs as well.  When I reached the foot of the stairs, I started to go out the front door, when I heard Erik say, "Use the back door instead."  I turned and saw him seated at the black baby grand piano that was directly underneath the alcove.  He saw me turn toward him and, tilting his head to his left, indicated the direction of the back door.  As he began to play "Fur Elise", I looked at where he was indicating, and behind him and to the left of the piano, I saw a door that opened out to a patio.  Since I needed to go to the bathroom, I took his word for it that there was a privy somewhere behind the house.

As I stepped out onto the patio, I felt the cold paved surface on my feet and realized that I had forgotten to put on my shoes, and thought briefly of going back inside to put them on but nature's call was more urgent!  I gingerly made my way to the grass, and as I left the smooth surface of the patio and stepped onto the grass, I half-expected to step onto weeds but instead, found the grass, although cold and wet, free of both weeds and nettles!  Who does the lawn?  They sure have done a good job! I thought as I quickly made my way across to the small, wooden privy.  I opened the door to it and went inside, hoping to find a place to sit and do my job but instead found only a hole in the floor.  I then realized that I would again have to squat to urinate and defecate.  You, gentle reader, might find it strange that I mention all these personal details, but you must remember that I am an American, and in America, we women sit when we urinate, not squat!

When I finished going to the bathroom, I returned to the house where Erik was still playing the piano.  He had just finished playing the last chords of a waltz by Schubert as I walked in, when he turned to me and said, "While you were sleeping, I took your clothes and dried them by the stove.  Everything is dry, including your underwear, but may I suggest you wear the skirt and shirt that you'll find hanging in the wardrobe?  I'd like to take you on a picnic in the forest this afternoon, and I think that outfit would be more comfortable than the black formal you were wearing last night-don't you agree?"

Remembering how cold and wet the grass was on my bare feet, I asked, "Are you sure it won't be too wet and muddy for a picnic?"

Erik shook his head slightly and replied, "It should dry out enough shortly.  In the meantime, we can entertain ourselves here inside!"

As he turned back to the piano and began to play yet another waltz, I walked over to the wood stove and found my things hanging on the stove pipe which extended out from the back of the stove and then went into the wall in the back of the stove.  I then took my clothes and went upstairs to change.  While the nightgown and robe were comfortable enough, I felt as if I were trespassing a little in wearing another woman's clothing, even if the woman in question was Erik's sister.  As I began to undress, Erik finished the waltz and began playing a familiar piece.  At first, I was puzzled for I could not place it, but then, as he played a little longer, I realized that he was playing "The Jewel Song" from Gounod's "Faust".

As for the clothes he wanted me to wear, I found the shirt and shirt right where he said I would find them.  The skirt was a light-weight, three-tiered chambray skirt gathered at the waist with an elastic band.  While the skirt was rather ordinary looking, the shirt was not.  It was an old-fashioned man's shirt and looked like it was from the romantic period.  It was a white shirt, open at the neck with the long sleeves gathered at both the shoulders and the cuffs.  I wonder where he got these things! I thought to myself as I put on first the shirt and then the skirt.  In addition to being old-fashioned, the shirt was large even for me, with the bottom of the neck opening coming down below the band of my bra, and even after I buttoned the sole button located almost halfway between the bottom of the front slit and the collar, I still felt exposed.  Is there a safety pin I could use? I wondered as I looked around the room.  I looked at the top of both the dressing table and the night stand and found nothing.  Finally, turning back to the wardrobe, I opened both doors of the wardrobe and found some drawers on the left side of the wardrobe.  Looking through the drawers, I finally found t small jewelry box that had a few pairs of earrings and a couple of small pendants along with a small cameo brooch.  That'll work! I thought as I quickly pinned the shirt opening closed with the brooch.  Since there was no mirror in the room, I had to guess as to where to place the brooch, and even if the brooch was even, but at least the opening was closed a little more than it had been previously.

I then turned my attention to straightening up the bedroom a little.  I hung the nightgown and robe back in the wardrobe and put the jewelry box back in the drawer before closing the doors to the wardrobe and turning my attention elsewhere.  Then I went over to the bed and straightened the covers on it.  As I was doing so, I noticed that there were two hand-made quilts on it.  The bottom quilt was a turquoise-blue and white print with stitches that formed little stars, and the one on top of it was a red and white print with pineapple shaped stitching on it, rather like one would find on a crocheted doily or a table runner.  These quilts don't look anything like the ones back home!  I'll have to ask Erik who did them, I thought as I finished making the bed.

As I descended the stairs, Erik stopped playing the piano and said, "Yes, that's much better, don't you think?  Casual, and yet not sloppy!"

"Where did you get these clothes?" I asked as I sat down in the wing-backed chair that was opposite from the piano.

He smiled and said, "The skirt is Slavitska's, but the shirt is mine.  I like the combination on you, though.  It'll be perfect for the picnic!"

I looked at him incredulously and exclaimed, "This seems awfully big for you!"

He nodded and said, "That shirt is an old one-back before I got diabetes and lost a lot of weight.  It does bring back a lot of memories, though!"

Seeing a far-away look in his eyes, I replied softly, "I'm sorry-I didn't mean to bring up the past."

He shook his head and said, "You didn't, really.  I've always liked that style, and on the right person, it can really look romantic.  I like that pin you're wearing-it really sets off the shirt!"  He remained silent for a moment before adding, "Changing the subject a little, I've played pieces by Schubert, Gounod and Beethoven, so how about another piece by an American composer?  Say...this one."  He then began to play a melancholy melody that sounded vaguely familiar.  Where have I heard this one before? I wondered as he played on.  Then I realized that the piece had originally been written, not for the piano but for the fiddle.  Erik was playing "Ashokan Farewell" from Ken Burns' mini-series "The Civil War", and as he played, I was transported back in time in my mind.  Back before I was forced to become a French citizen; back before I was forced into exile; back to before my marriage broke up; back to before my estrangement from my children; back to happier times.  Even though the Gulf War was going on and we were all worried about what Saddam would do next, the times were still happier for us.  My marriage and family were still intact, the American military was still respected by all, and Americans were still proud to call themselves Americans!  Those really were good times, even though we didn't believe is at the time!  Why did we let those hillbilly Mafiosi ruin it for us? I thought as Erik finished playing the final chords to the piece.  "My dear, I fear that I have made you sad," he commented quietly as the last chord died away.
I shook my head as I came out of my reverie, and said, "Not at all, Erik!  I didn't realize just how beautiful 'Ashokan Farewell' was when played on the piano, that's all.  Where did you learn to play so beautifully?"
Erik bowed his head slightly and replied, "Thank you, my dear.  I learned to play when I first got into music.  I was lucky to have some good teachers, I guess."

I nodded my head, and after a moment of silence said, "I don't like to spoil this mood, but did you say something about a picnic?"

Smiling again, only this time mischievously, he replied, "Getting a little hungry, are we?  Well, that's understandable since you skipped breakfast.  It just so happens that I have the picnic hamper all packed and ready to go since early this morning.  I would have awakened you sooner but I was waiting until it dried out a bit, so put on your shoes and we'll go now!"