Destiny Takes Time | By : GueritaSalome Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 19820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 4 – Jovanka’s Prediction
Erik returned from seeing Christine safely to her dormitory and poured himself a glass of wine. He got out his violin and started to play, only stopping briefly between songs to take a sip of his drink. The last song he did was one which Jovanka often sang while she worked. He closed his eyes as he played and let his thoughts go back to the time he had spent with her.
Erik was not sure how long he had lived with the gypsies, but it must have been several months. Branko thankfully wasn’t at home all that often, allowing him and Jovanka to become quite accustomed to each other. Sometimes she took him with her when she would go on errands or simply let him help her entertain Fardy, who was just learning to walk. She never wanted Erik to cover his face in her presence and only allowed him to do so when they left the tent. It was understood that she permitted it so he could feel more secure, not because she was embarrassed to be seen with him. One afternoon after one of Jovanka’s friends had just left from visiting her, he had been particularly sad and discouraged.
“Erik, come here. I have something for you,” she told him, as she pulled an object out of her bag.
He went to sit down in front of her chair.
“Something…for me?” he asked. “What is it?”
She showed him a small stuffed monkey with little tin cymbals sewn to its hands. Hesitantly, he reached out to take it.
“Jovanka, did you sew this yourself?” he asked, still in disbelief that he was receiving a gift.
“Yes, I did. I had enough cloth left over when I was finished with Milenka’s dresses that I was able to make it for you,” she replied with a smile that warmed his heart.
“Thank you,” he whispered, on the verge of tears.
He sat there, just admiring it for a moment and began to experiment by clanging the little cymbals together. It produced a soft, pleasant sound. Then he looked back up at her with a confused expression.
“Why did you want to make me something?” he asked. “No one likes me. I’m cursed.”
She shook her head.
“You are wrong, Erik. I like you, and you are not cursed – you’re beautiful,” she replied.
He furrowed his eyebrows and lowered his head at the thought that he was beautiful. She reached out with the tips of her fingers and gently lifted his chin, making him hold his head up. When she was sure that he was paying attention, she continued.
“Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re ugly because of what they can see only by using their eyes. You have a good soul, and I also believe that you’re very gifted.”
“What is my gift?” he asked curiously.
“Let me see your hand,” she told him, still smiling.
He stretched out his palm and she began to trace over the lines with her fingers.
“Here,” she said, “just as I suspected. You have a very keen ear. Hmmm…”
She paused for a brief moment.
“I see you always being surrounded by music. It’s part of you. In it you will find your comfort to live in solitude.”
“You mean I am to be alone?” he asked sadly, although being alone would be preferable to being mistreated.
“Yes, you won’t remain here forever. You will be on your own for a long time after you’re no longer with us.”
Jovanka sounded sad, and then she looked up to meet his eyes.
“Wait a minute…there is something else here.” Her face lit up again. “You will only be alone for a time, not forever. Someone will love you for yourself, very much,” she said beaming.
“Really? Who? Who will love me?” Erik asked anxiously.
“I do not know her name, but she will come…and there is the music, your music holding the two of you together.”
A small smile turned up the corners of his lips.
“There is one more thing that I must tell you, though. This young lady who will come to love you – you must take good care of her, Erik. Things might interfere with the path that you are to walk with each other. Love is like a rose; it must be handled gently or it can be lost.”
He saddened once more.
“Don’t be afraid. If you do what I tell you, you will both be very happy together. Just always remember – a rose.”
“So I am not to suffer for the rest of my life?” he asked, begging her with his eyes for reassurance.
“No, child. You will have many joys in your life…which will, by the way, be a long one. You only need to wait for the good things to come to you.”
Erik had never been able to forget what Jovanka had told him that day when she’d given him the precious little monkey toy. He had carried it around with him wherever he went, even to the cage where he was ridiculed. When he held his little friend, he was reminded of the hope that he’d been promised. On quite a few occasions he had gotten to witness his foster mother telling the other gypsies their fortunes, and they often returned to her later saying that what she had predicted did come to pass. It might be considered a rather uncertain skill by some, but Erik was convinced that Jovanka could see beyond what normal people saw.
Erik put away his violin and went instead for his monkey music box, which he took to his bedroom. Even as a grown man, when he looked at it or listened to its music, he was reminded of the only gift he had ever received so many years before and of the prediction that he hoped might be starting to come true. He left the music box playing as he climbed into his four-poster and pulled the curtains closed. That night he slept more peacefully than he had in a long time.
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