Phantom of the Opera Where I Leave Off and You Begin

**Where I Leave Off and You Begin**

"Erik! It's time!" Those much anticipated and also dreaded words, Erik heard them as he finished his morning shave. Running to her bedside, he wanted it confirmed, "Christine, are you sure?" The only answer was her heavy breathing and nodding head.

Erik hurried to the front door. The hospital suitcase had been set there, ready for the past two days. He put on his cloak and grabbed his mask from the side table. The mask was secured in front of the mirror and then he took three calming breaths. Erik ran to the curb to hail a carriage and the driver then followed him inside the house. Erik went to the bedroom to put Christine's cloak on her then he swept her into his arms and carried her to the waiting carriage. Christine was in pain but tried to downplay it for Erik's sake. "Angel, are you in pain?" he feared, "Because it's hard to tell."

"Just a little bit, my darling. But it's bearable." she said with a smile and a nod.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation,  
but deliver us from evil. Amen." Christine didn't want Erik to know that she was scared to death especially since her own mother had died bringing her into the world.

Erik was so worried for Christine's health that he didn't have time to experience anguish over the thought of the child bearing his deformity. _God, if you hear me, please give Christine the strength to have this baby. I can't live without my angel. She is a natural born mother with so much love to give. I promise to be the best father I can be_. Erik prayed as the carriage rushed to the hospital.

After 17 hours of intense labor, Christine at last gave birth. Erik heard the baby cry and the doctor say it was a healthy boy. But he was so focused on his now smiling wife, he wept tears of relief. "Thank God! How do you feel, my angel?"

"Exhausted!" panted Christine. She collapsed and fell back onto her pillow. With eyes closed she whispered, "We did it! I'm so happy!"

"My love, I am beyond words!" Erik was overcome with emotion as he kissed her forehead and hid his face in his wife's bosom. "You survived and we have a baby!" _Thank you!_ He stayed kneeled like that at her bedside then Christine put her hand upon his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

She whispered, "Hail Mary, full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen." Erik murmured, "Amen."

Waking an hour later, Christine looked around the room. "Ange, where is the baby?" Erik told her they were cleaning him up and will soon bring him back to them.

The nurse finally came in carrying a bundle. She was smiling behind her hospital mask when she laid the baby in Christine's arms. "Here is your son! He is hungry."

Erik looked on in awe and wonder as Christine cuddled her babe to her bosom. She unbuttoned the top of her nightgown and began to feed their newborn son. _What a beautiful site! It is moments like this that inspire an artist to paint. It's like watching a masterpiece._

After a while, the baby was full and fell asleep. Christine touched his tiny chin and whispered, "Erik, who do you think he looks like?"

"It's hard to tell," he decided. Erik did notice the brown hair and little nose like Christine's and the two perfect pudgy cheeks. He leaned over and felt the velvety skin on his pink face. This made the baby open his golden eyes and start to cry. _Those eyes!_ Erik was still and let him grasp his finger until he was quiet. "Ah, he's a lot like you!" Erik remarked with a grin.

Christine smiled and shook with a silent laugh. "He likes you! Angel, would you like to hold your son?" she offered with a look of hope in her eyes.

"Me? I, I wouldn't know how. He is so tiny! I had better not." Erik said uncomfortably as he shook his head. _Oh Christine, my selfish desire to hold that little piece of heaven—I fear my hellish embrace would taint such perfection!_

As if she had read his mind, Christine coaxed, "Oh Erik, he's your son! It's easy. You won't hurt him! Come, hold him like this. Keep his head up and support his neck."

Holding his breath, Erik followed her instructions. After a minute and the baby still had not screamed, Erik breathed a sigh of relief. He very slowly made himself comfortable in the chair next to the bed. Overcome with feelings of gratitude and immense joy, Erik kissed his son's forehead and savored the moment.

"Angel, did you notice his beautiful eyes?" Christine asked with a knowing look and smile.

Erik paused and looked down at his son in his arms who was looking up at him. _Yes; those golden orbs were hard to ignore. Stunning. Such a unique color._ He was going to say that he hadn't seen his eyes yet, but he had to confess. "My eyes-but on a perfect face! I could never appreciate them looking back at me in the dreaded mirror. But here on my perfectly normal son, they are indeed beautiful!" He touched the baby's chin and let him grasp his finger.

"Christine, in the carriage on the ride here, I made a promise to be the best father I could be. I intend to keep that promise. I love you Angel and I didn't think it possible but I feel myself falling in love with this baby you have given me. Thank you, my love!" Erik said to his wife with tears in his eyes.

"Erik darling, I love you so much and I know that you will be a wonderful father. We will be such a happy family-the three of us!" Christine said with confidence and a loving gaze at her husband holding their son.

"Angel, what are we going to call him? I'd like to name him after my father." she said thoughtfully. Erik had a questioning look on his face. "You want to name our baby Papa?" he teased. After they had a chuckle, he replied, "I think that's appropriate; he does have the hands of a musician. So, Gustave Destler it shall be!" Erik proclaimed.

The years passed quickly for the happy family. Christine was a loving and nurturing mother. Gustave was her joy. Erik relished his new life as a father. His son was so much like him. He was very curious and showed an interest in many things. However, Erik was frustrated that Gustave didn't seem to have a talent for music. He had tried to get him interested in the piano but couldn't seem to develop that in him. He confided in his wife, "It's hard to tell you, Christine, but this frustrates me to no end! How could a child of ours not be musically inclined?"

Erik and Christine received many performance invitations. They had no need for the money it brought and, therefore, only accepted the ones that suited their schedule and desired travel locations. The masked piano virtuoso and his sublime soprano was a family affair and they brought Gustave with them to each engagement.

After their practice one day, Erik and Christine were talking in the kitchen when they heard some tinkling of piano keys. Looking at each other with surprise, they said in unison, "Gustave?"

Erik was excited but didn't want to make too much of it. He nonchalantly walked in the music room, bypassing the piano and went straight to the bookcase for his compositions. He was facing the shelves, leafing through his book with his eyes closed pretending to read. His back was to Gustave and his son's nonsensical tinkling was music to his ears!

"Listen Papa, I'm playing the piano!" Gustave exclaimed.

Erik had to pretend he didn't notice. "Hmmm? What's that, son?"

"The piano. I'm making music!" he proclaimed.

He didn't want to seem too pleased because he didn't want to push Gustave to become like him. "Are you! It's hard to tell but keep at it! Maman is making lunch so go wash your hands now."

Erik returned to the kitchen where Christine was removing her apron. "I can't believe it! After all this time, he finally is playing the piano!" he said with excitement.

"Uh, playing is kind of stretching it a bit, Angel!" Christine looked at Erik with humor in her eyes.

"Just the mere fact that he was sitting on the piano bench and touching the keys, that's all I need. I can work with that. I told you he had the hands of a musician!" Erik stated proudly.

They were sitting at the table enjoying Swedish stew and after a while Gustave asked, "Papa, can you teach me to play like you?"

Erik could barely contain himself. "Play what like me?" He feigned confusion.

"I want to learn to play the piano!" declared his son, _the musician_!

"Oh. Really? Well, perhaps I could give you a lesson or two." Erik half offered.

Erik couldn't start them soon enough. But he waited for Gustave to approach him the next day. Erik was finishing his latest aria when Gustave came in the music room and stood behind him. He tapped his shoulder and asked, "Papa, is now a good time?"

"Now is a great time, my boy!" Erik said enthusiastically as he patted the bench for his son, _the musician_, to sit next to him.

"Teach me the gorilla song that you play." Gustave said with big eyes.

Erik was stumped. "Gorilla? That I play?" Suddenly, it came to him, "Oh, you mean the 'Aria di Gloria'! Well, let's begin with something easy. It's an old favorite of mine, called 'Chopsticks'!"

*Bumbumbumbumbumbum Bumbumbumbumbumbum* "Yes, just like that Gustave! That's it! Keep doing that." Erik knew Gustave would have fun with this one.

"This is fun Papa! I like the piano. Now, I'm really making music!" squealed with delight, his son _the musician_!

Erik had been a very nurturing teacher and Gustave was an excellent student. Within two years, Erik found himself saying "D7. I hope you remember that tonight at your recital." Several months later, Erik bought Gustave his own piano. It was placed facing his own, so that he and Gustave could watch each other as they played double piano. Christine objected to this arrangement saying two pianos in one room was one too many, but she eventually got used to it.

Five years passed and Gustave had made tremendous progress in his piano abilities. He truly was remarkable. Gustave was in demand for recitals throughout the city. He also won competitions receiving many awards for his original pieces. Erik was proud as a peacock!

One day, Erik was teaching his son the aria he had written for Christine. Erik had a strange sensation in his hand and he ended their lesson early. Every now and then his hand would cramp up and he would just go to soak it in the sink.

This started to happen very frequently and Erik decided to see a doctor. Several months later, Erik came home from his doctor appointment with devastating news. "Christine, this is the third specialist I've seen and they all say the same thing! I'm dying."

She didn't want to believe it. But after the initial shock settled in, Christine decided to face it head on. After a few days, she sat down with her love, "Angel, as hard as it is to accept, you're going to have to tell Gustave."

"No. I, I can't." Erik said quickly, stumbling on his words.

"You must!" she implored him.

Erik was grasping at straws, "He's too young! I wouldn't know how to do a thing like that," Erik finally told her.

Christine kept a brave face and reasoned with him, "Erik, I was only six when Papa died. When he came home from seeing the doctor, I had no idea of what was to come. Don't do that to our son. He must be told soon so we can prepare him."

"You're right, as always, my angel. It's just he's still my little boy, even though he's twelve." Erik said with a far away look in his eyes.

"It doesn't have to be done tonight, my love." Christine said with compassion.

"Next week, tonight! Or a month from now! What difference does it make? I just couldn't do it," Erik argued as he walked across the room.

"What I want to know is why! Why do they have to destroy me, twice? Wasn't being born with this face and the lifetime of agony it caused me enough? Just when I get everything I want in life, everything! When it gets too good, they want to take it away. Christine, I don't want to die! I don't!" Erik held on to Christine's arms and pulled her close to him. She cried in their embrace as Erik patted her back to soothe her.

He found his courage and held her away from him conceding, "I'll tell him." Erik looked in Christine's eyes and kissed her. Again, he said with resolve, "I'll tell him."

Christine continued to cry as they embraced. Erik was comforting her with her head on his chest. He looked upward saying, "Oh God, give me the proper words to say to him."

A couple days later, it was decided that now was the right time to speak with Gustave. It could not be put off any longer. Erik had been feeling weaker since his last doctor appointment and Christine had noticed him clenching his hand more frequently. He no longer got relief from the soaks in warm water. Gustave had asked why they didn't play together much any more.

Erik and Christine lay in their warm bed as they watched the sun rise through the open drapes. Their internal clock always woke them early so they could share the glorious sunrise and the promises it brings each day. Once they were dressed, Christine handed him his pain tablets with a glass of water. "Thank you, my angel. You take such good care of me." Erik told his beloved wife. He swallowed them then set down the glass.

"That's because I love you and I always will." Christine told her devoted husband and love of her life. She walked into his arms, reached up to remove his mask, and lay her head on his chest. "You don't need this today. Darling, you can do it. I am confident that God will speak through you in telling Gustave." She placed the mask on the nightstand.

Erik held her close to him and kissed the top of her head and inhaled the sweet fragrance of her crowing glory. "I have always adored this-such beautiful hair," he murmured into her flowing curls.

Erik and Christine walked out of the bedroom to face together the new day. They had their morning breakfast as a family. As Christine served the meal, she observed the cozy picture in front of her and thought how blessed she has been. Never again would she take this for granted. Erik drank her raved-about coffee as he looked over the morning paper. Gustave had a growing appetite and took a second helping of scrambled eggs.

After breakfast, Christine began clearing the table. Erik stood and asked if she would like some help. "No thank you, Angel. I can handle it." She told him with a smile as she kissed his cheek and rubbed her nose against it.

"No? Well then, Gustave, how about you and I take a little walk in the garden? It looks very pleasant outside." Erik offered his son, praying that he would accept the invitation.

Gustave was lying on his stomach reading _The Three Musketeers_ when he looked up and said, "Ok, and I can get some flowers for Maman while we're there!"

Along the way, Erik remarked how tall the trees had grown. "I planted that one the week you were born." Gustave smiled telling his father that it had been his favorite tree to climb when he was little. "What did you want to talk to me about, Papa?" he asked, looking up into his eyes from where sat.

Erik felt the familiar pain in his hand and clenched it. "I um, I thought it might be nice if we took a walk together. There are so many things I want to tell you... Gustave, I need your help. I've been thinking, son. The only way I would ever leave you would be against my will."

"What, a trip you mean? Trips to give a performance?" he asked.

Erik said, "No. No, not exactly."

"Will you be going away for a long time?" Gustave wondered.

"For a long time, son."

"Will Maman go with you?"

"No, she'll stay here with you. You know, Gustave, there is no one dearer to me in the whole world than you. But I, I can't stay with you, son."

Gustave stood up and ran to his favorite tree. "Do you have to do it? Go, I mean?"

Erik followed him and answered "Yes."

"Well I don't care."

"I don't think you mean that, Gustave."

"You said you have to go-you're gonna leave me. Didn't you?"

"No Gustave, listen."

"You don't have to bother explaining things! I can get along without you."

"You must understand, Gustave. Listen to me."

"No, no, no!" Gustave climbed his tree, branch by branch until he reached the top.

Erik looked up and yelled to him. "I told you it was against my will!"

"Don't say that! It's not true! There's no one who can tell you what to do!"

Erik held on to the tree trunk and told him "Gustave, there is somebody who tells us all what to do! You remember the hospitals that I've gone to, the doctors I've seen recently?"

"Yes. But you're all right now. You told us!"

"No I'm, I'm sick Gustave. I'm very sick! And that's why I won't be with you much longer, son."

Gustave was crying, shaking his head in confusion and disbelief.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Gustave? Do you understand?"

Gustave looked down with a tear-stained face. He climbed down to where his father was waiting and said, "Yes. I, think I, understand."

He ran in to his father's embrace and held his neck crying, "Papa, Papa!" Erik looked up to the heavens.

Together they picked an assortment of flowers from the garden until they had a nice bouquet. Gustave clutched his hand around the stems and brought the flowers to his nose. "Maman will like these," he said with a far away look. Erik had his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked home.

Christine rushed to the front room when she heard them approaching. She stood still as they opened the door. They walked in and Gustave ran to his mother. "Hi," he said hugging her.

"Hi, I've been lonesome without my two men," she replied. Then the front door was closed and Erik stood there. As Christine held on to her son, she looked over at Erik and he nodded his head.

She squeezed Gustave then he looked up and presented the flowers to his mother, "These are for you!"

Christine pulled away saying, "How lovely! Thank you, dear." She went to go put them in a vase.

With the two of them in the room, Gustave said to Erik, "I'll take care of her, Papa."

Erik's heart swelled. What a fine boy he had! _Returning from their walk Gustave had come back a young man wanting to shoulder the burden._ "How about a little double piano, hmmm?" he suggested to his son.

They walked in to the music room. Gustave stood in front of the piano. Erik stood behind him with his hand on his shoulders. He looked down at his right hand, at the pinky ring he wore. He removed it and put it on Gustave's pinky. It was too big so he moved it to the next finger. Gustave looked at his right hand to examine the ring as he walked to sit on the bench.

Erik walked to the other end where his piano was and sat facing his son. He began playing a soft melody then he smiled and announced, "Music by Destler!"

Upon hearing this, Gustave then joined in playing on his piano. Christine set her vase of flowers on the dining table. She walked in the music room where her beloved husband and their precious son sat at pianos facing each other and playing a lovely duet. _Why did I ever fuss about that arrangement?_ She sat in the comfortable wing chair, when Gustave went into his solo. Erik walked past Gustave to stand with Christine as they both beamed while their son continued playing. It was a bittersweet moment. They looked in each other's eyes and stood cheek to cheek.

Then Erik walked to sit on the piano bench next to Gustave, telling him, "You're getting awfully good, son. It's hard to tell where I leave off and you begin." He kissed him on top of his head as he continued playing.

Erik walked to the other end and sat at his piano. Gustave was watching him and suddenly he could play no more and put his head down. Erik saw this and with quick thinking announced "The Gorilla Song" and began playing the family favorite. Gustave looked up smiling and joined in. They sat across from each other smiling while playing their pianos. Christine began singing on her cue. They fed off of one another's talent. This continued for several minutes when suddenly, Erik clenched his hand and stopped playing. Christine saw this and dreaded its meaning. Gustave was oblivious, however, and he continued playing the joyous music while his mother sang. Erik's bench is empty and his piano silent, but the music in the Destler home plays on!


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Drama, Family