Rossignol

My arm was hurting again. I rolled to a sitting position and stared at the bottom of the bed. I felt terribly disoriented. I wouldn't take any more morphine for a while; it made me loopy and dull witted. The conversation going on near my door was blowing my mind, it sounded as if Erik was going to give my brother voice lessons. The very idea! Raoul couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

Before long the house rang with blessed silence and I knew everyone had gone. Except for Erik of course, even in silence he had a presence I could feel. Vaguely I remembered seeing him after going to bed, but I didn't remember how or why. I got up and opened my door to peer out. I spotted him at the piano, his head bowed over the keys. I hesitated to approach him; he had an air of frustration. But I was starving to death.

He heard me coming. His head snapped up and he stood to face me.

"Good morning madam, are you well?" he asked politely. I heard an edge to his voice, but it did not seem to be for me. I nodded. "Then you must be hungry," Erik went on. "Your family brought us groceries, why don't we go through them and find something?" Again I nodded.

The kitchen took me aback in much the same way my bathroom had. The walls were red marble and the floor gleamed ivory white. The cook stove was nothing like anything I was familiar with; I could see no place to build a fire in it. His table was wooden of course, but unvarnished blond. All the pots and pans hung from a cast iron rack over the stove.

"Do you remember walking in your sleep last night?" Erik asked lightly, opening a large bag on the table. My mind clicked with understanding. So that was why I felt I'd talked to him. But had I really spoken? I put my hand up to my throat. I seemed to recall having been able to speak at one time, but the memory was so insubstantial I hesitated to put faith in it.

"I see you do." Erik went to a cabinet and pulled out two plates and some flatware. "You spoke to me too."

The conversation came flooding back like a dam bursting. I sat heavily in a nearby chair, my head whirling. Not only had I used my voice, I had used it to spill a fair amount of pain. I could speak! But the things I had said! And what he had said.... He wanted to be my guardian angel, or at least he had offered it. I looked up to find him gazing directly into my eyes from mere inches away. Giving a little involuntary jerk, I leaned backward just a hair.

"I'm sorry Celeste, did I frighten you?" Erik moved back, placing a plate in front of me that held bread and cheese. "Here, start with this, and eat slowly if you can."

I obeyed, nervously. Erik seemed different today. He felt... menacing, but in an unfocused way. When he sat across from me I gave a shiver. It was as if I sat across from a sentient gargoyle.

"Would you like for me to help you speak? I believe I can."

I put my piece of bread down and stared at him. Erik's tone commanded attention. Did he mean for us to start now? I felt like a mouse being batted back and forth by a cat holding in its claws.

"Of course, if you don't want to try, I'll abide by your wishes."

I stood up and threw my bread back down on the plate. I'd had enough of this strange, subtle menace. If he wanted to intimidate me, he was succeeding. I pivoted, but he was between the door and me before I could blink. I pulled back automatically, a sudden surge of fear lending me speed. I watched in horror as he began to reach for me. At the last moment he would have touched me I threw up my hands.

My moan echoed off the walls.

I blinked. I had made noise, not Erik. He was moving away now, his air of threat completely gone.

"You see?" He sat back down. "Please, finish eating."

Slowly, I moved back to my chair and sat down, unable to rebel against his tone.

"You have a reason you won't speak. I don't know entirely what it is, and it is possible you don't even know. What I do know is that you are quite capable of talking." Erik's words flowed into the air between us, wrapped around my ears and invaded my head. "If you choose to be silent I will honor your wishes, but I think you would enjoy having your speech back, don't you?"

I nodded helplessly.

"Finish your meal. Eat all you want. When you feel satisfied, join me in the parlor." Erik left the kitchen.

I sat at the table a long time, barely tasting what I put into my mouth. Even knowing my host's danger had been only to provoke me into talking, I was still fearful, still shaking. I felt a flash of fury at his technique. How dare he scare me half to death! I hadn't asked him to help me!

I tucked myself miserably into the robe Christine had put me in. I could smell patchouli on Erik himself every time I talked to him, and his clothes smelled the same.

Gradually, I calmed down. I couldn't deny Erik had helped me, as evil as his method seemed. I might not have ever proven to myself I could talk; he had done me a favor by pushing me into it. I would go to him and see what else he could do. Not being able to speak inconvenienced me to a serious degree. Without speech I would never have Raoul’s respect either, that was the sad truth of it.

"Ah, I must not have made you too angry," Erik said smoothly as I sat down on the couch beside him. "Either that or you forgive quickly."

I gave him a sour look.

He laughed softly. "I see you're willing to scrape up a little ill will after all. I don't blame you." He pulled a watch from his pocket, twirling its gold body around and around in his hands. "Have you ever really looked at a pocket watch madam?" he asked, turning it so the light bounced across it regularly. "This one was given to me by a very good man, a great friend to me. His name is Emil. He taught me a great many things, but one of the most valuable pieces of wisdom he ever let fall from his taciturn lips was this: Keep an eye on your goals, but also do not look away from what is inside you." He held the timepiece by its chain, before my eyes. "What do you think you have inside you?"

The watch began to swing. I could not look away from it.

"Count backward from thirty with me Madam."

"Thirty."

"Twenty-nine"

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-seven," I heard myself say.

"Twenty six."

I counted aloud with him to the very end and waited, feeling curiously numb and apathetic. No emotion touched me whatsoever.

"Very good madam, you are doing well." Erik's honey tones flowed through me. "Right now you are in a quiet place. You are safe. No one can bother you here. You can talk all you want. Tell me about where you are."

"I'm in the closet," I said. "It's dark here, and warm. No one knows where I am." I could smell the lilac sachets mother hung to keep her clothes fresh. Raoul and Philippe were talking in the library; I heard their deep voices vibrating the floorboards underneath me. A stream of light, barely visible past a heap of shoes, struck my bare toes. I wriggled them, watching the light shine on my clean nails. My nightgown itched me.

"Are you hiding Celeste?"

"Yes."

"Whom are you hiding from?"

"Father. He's drinking again. I hate it when he drinks."

"What does he do when he drinks?"

"He hurts me. Mother doesn't know. It's a secret." I saw the light move with the pattern of footsteps. "He's in the room now, looking for me. I don't want him to find me."

"Because he hurts you."

"Yes. I'm so tired of not being able to play."

"He makes you sore?"

"Yes." I breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps walked out of my bedroom. "But he didn't see me this time."

"Your father looks for you when he's been drinking?"

"Yes, and he drinks so much now. He never used to drink like this. I'm afraid of him."

"You know he can't hurt you now though, he missed you."

"He'll be back, he always comes back." I put my head down on my knees, feeling sad. "He tells me to be quiet while he touches me. Maybe if I stay quiet he'll forget about me."

"Why don't you come and stay with me then? I promise he can't hurt you here."

"You'd do that? You'd let me stay?"

"Of course I would, you're a good girl Celeste."

"I'd like to leave then, please, now."

"Alright, I'll take you home with me. You don't ever have to think about your father again."

"That's so nice of you."

"I want you to remember something for me though, can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"Once I take you out of this closet Celeste, your father won't be able to hurt you anymore. He'll be gone and he can't ever come back."

"Are you sure?"

"I am positive. I'm Erik, your guardian angel, remember? I know these things."

"I remember, but I can't see you."

"I'll show myself to you when we get home. You'll like it at my house Celeste, its dark and quiet, just like your closet, you can do whatever you like."

"Then take me now Erik."

"Alright my dear. I want you to count to thirty with me, keeping your eyes closed. When you open them on number thirty, you'll be in my house."

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

I opened my eyes. I felt.... light. Erik was looking at me, his eyes warm and kind. I smiled at him.

"How do you feel Celeste?"