The Power of the Music

Unforseen Circumstances

Chapter 17

Erik woke in the middle of the night in a coughing fit. He went to the washroom and shut the door behind him so Christine wouldn't hear. He figured he had just breathed in a little too much dust from the construction of the cottage that day. It was just a little dust that had gotten in the back of his throat. No more. No less.

He was very much mistaken.

The next morning, Christine playfully crawled on top of Erik and began telling him how she wanted to sew curtains for the big windows in the loft. All Erik did was stare at her blankly. Naturally, this didn't come as a surprise to Christine. Sometimes he got into some strange moods when he was dwelling on a memory. She didn't worry about it. She continued talking about her plans before kissing him passionately.

That's when she knew something was wrong. He always kissed her back - always. Instead, he continued to stare blankly. She shook him, and he groaned.

She giggled. "Are you dreading work or something? What on earth would ever make you moan like that?"

Erik crawled out from under her and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He mustered up what little strength he had and stumbled to the washroom with Christine at his heels. He put a tissue to his face and began another coughing fit. Christine gingerly rubbed his back as he leaned against the wall. When Erik pulled the tissue away, he saw a red sticky liquid.

"Erik," Christine muttered, "Is... Is that... blood?"

He dropped the tissue to the floor in horror. Not once in his life could he remember being sick. The occasional stuffy nose, yes, but never sick.

Christine took him by the shoulders and guided him back to the bed. She tucked him under the covers and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "Erik, sweetie, you're burning up," she said with a worried expression in her eyes.

He was still in horror. He had never felt so terrible in all of his life. He was in a cold sweat. His heart was racing a million beats per minute, and his head felt like someone had sent a bullet through it. He could barely breathe. He felt as if something heavy was pressing his lungs down, and they could explode at any second.

"Erik, darling, please say something," Christine begged.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He couldn't breathe in enough air to make his vocal chords work.

Christine bolted up and pulled her robe on. "I'm going to get a doctor," she stated matter-of-factly. Erik tried to object but again, nothing would come out but a light sigh.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, his mask was on his face. A light was shining in his left eye, and he realized that he must be in the presence of a doctor. The older man turned off his light and sketched something in his notebook.

He turned his attention to Christine. "May I speak to you in private, Madame?" Christine nodded and led him out into the hallway.

When she returned, Erik saw the weary look across her face. She sat at the bedside and pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. He wanted so desperately to tell her everything was alright, but he couldn't get anything out but a moan. Besides, Erik didn't want to promise Christine that he couldn't provide, and truthfully, he didn't know if everything was going to be okay. He watched her sorrowful eyes. They were full of love and worry. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with the back of it. She pressed her face into his touch, and her tears could no longer be suppressed. A sparkling drop of water fell from her pale blue eyes. Erik felt his eyes sting with tears too. He hated to see her cry, and to think, just last night, they were happily adoring their new home.

"It's pneumonia," Christine said finally through her sobs.

Erik winced when he heard that. He knew pneumonia wasn't always a death sentence as it used to be, but it was still common for it to be fatal. No. Erik couldn't think that way. He was going to pull through it. They sat in silence for a few minutes. He could hear Gustave stirring. Erik's acute hearing pinpointed his footsteps. His bare feet pattered through the kitchen before darting up the stairs to the loft. He heard him pop his knuckles twice before his fingers went flailing at the keys of the piano.

Erik closed his eyes and listened to his son's music. At first he thought about exactly what notes he was hitting at what rhythms, but eventually, he gave in to the sound of the composition.

"It's so beautiful," he heard Christine mutter.

It came out as a raspy whisper Erik replied to her comment. "That's my boy," he said. "That's my boy." Then he fell into a very deep sleep.

Christine pecked Erik lightly on his cheek before reluctantly leaving the room. She went to the loft and stood behind Gustave until he finished his piece.

"Your father enjoyed hearing you play that," she told her son with teary eyes.

Gustave suddenly noticed his father's absence. "Where is Papa?" he asked. "He's usually up before me."

Christine talked to him about Erik's sickness. For the first time in a long while, Christine saw Gustave cry. She sat next to him on the piano stool and took him in her arms. She let him sob into her shoulder. Although Christine hated the circumstances, she missed holding her son like that. He had been so preoccupied with his little sister and father that sometimes she thought that he forgot about her.

She suddenly heard Angeletta crying from her room. Christine sighed and let Gustave go. She dried his eyes with her sleeve before going downstairs to retrieve her daughter.

She was going to go back up to the loft to be with Gustave, but he wasn't there. She noticed her bedroom door open. She found him curled up into Erik's side. He was crying, and Erik was sleeping soundly. Angeletta reached out for her Papa. Christine held her down close to Erik. Angeletta tugged the mask off of his face and dropped it to the floor. Erik didn't even budge which was very out of the ordinary. Normally if someone even touched the right side of his face, he would tense up no matter who it was. Christine pulled up the chair from the corner up to his bedside. She sat down with Angeletta in her lap. The child desperately wanted Erik to hold her. She started to whine for Erik, but he didn't stir. Christine began to sing a lullaby to calm the baby.

It wasn't long before all four members of the family were sound asleep. Christine had eventually given in to Angeletta. Christine slept curled up in the big armchair beside the bed. Gustave was curled up in Erik's left side with his head upon Erik's heaving chest. Angeletta lay across Erik's right arm with her hands up on his face. It would have been a sweet moment if the circumstances weren't so very unfortunate.