Haeven (23 page)

“What’s this?

“An experience.”

“Experience?” I asked my curiosity at its
peak.

I could see a mischievous glint in his eyes,
“I was afraid that if I told you beforehand you might not agree to
come.”

I frowned, “Why would you think that? I’ve
never been disappointed on any of the other occasions that you’ve
taken me out.” I saw him flinch; I couldn’t imagine why he would
feel so uncomfortable with the statement so I assured myself that I
was wrong and hadn’t truly seen what I thought I had seen.

We were near the top of the stairs and I
glanced at the framed production poster as we moved towards the
main doorways.

“Madama Butterfly,” I read out loud, “is it
a play?”

“No,” Herrik chuckled, “but there is a great
deal of acting; only not the way you would imagine. It’s an
opera.”

I had never been to an opera and wasn’t at
all adverse to the idea, “And why would you think I wouldn’t want
to go to an opera?”

“Well,” Herrik gathered his thoughts, “it is
an unusual art and…I…I wasn’t sure if you would be able to…to
appreciate it.”

“Of course I will. I always do; we always
do.”

We continued walking and Herrik showed our
tickets to one of the ushers who guided us to our seats. After we
were settled he took my hand, “I don’t want to share this one with
you.”

“What? Why? Why would you say that Herrik?”
I was aghast at the idea of not being able to share the experience
with him; with him not wanting to share the experience with me.

“I’m worried, Emily. I feel like I may be…I
may have…influenced you more than you know and I am afraid that you
are not becoming who you were meant to be. I’m afraid that I have…I
have wrought you into someone, something you are not.”

“No,” I whispered, “that’s not true. You
know it’s not.”

“I want you to know who you are, Emily, I
thought tonight might help us find that out.”

“How?” I shook my head.

“By how you react to the opera.” I couldn’t
see the point he was trying to make; or maybe I just didn’t want to
see it. “Emily,” Herrik reached for my hands, “I am not trying to
upset you. I’m sorry if what I’ve said seems hurtful but I assure
you it’s not.”

“Then why does it feel that way?”

“I’m sorry,” Herrik whispered and as his
apology died away the lights dimmed. I felt so betrayed and
disappointed but I couldn’t voice any of my grievances because the
production was about to begin. Herrik leaned in close; I could feel
his breath on my ear, “Please, Emily…do this…this one small thing
for me.”

I felt a lump in my throat and my voice
cracked, “Of course,” I relented and whispered back.

I could feel his relief as he sat back. He
kept his hold on one of my hands but that was the only sense I had
of him beside me. There was no vibrancy, no brilliance to the
things I saw and heard and felt. At least there wasn’t at
first.

I was confused when the players began to
take the stage and act out their parts. I couldn’t understand what
Madama Butterfly was singing as she moved about the hillside near
her new home. I had learned very little Italian from Artur and the
bits I did know didn’t relate at all to the story that was being
told. As I watched and the more focused and determined I became I
found it wasn’t necessary; it was perfectly obvious what was taking
place.

More than once I caught myself clasping
Herrik’s hand tighter and tighter with the intensity of the scenes
before me and had to mentally remind myself to loosen my grip. The
opera was absolutely captivating! I had never experienced anything
like it. It was so rich and colorful and so expressive and in such
a way that my heart leapt or fell with every twist and turn of the
story.

When intermission came Herrik asked me if I
there was anything I would like; if I needed to freshen up or
stretch my legs.

“No,” I shook my head, “I’m fine.”

Even though I was still peevish I wanted to
talk to him about the opera but before I could offer any of my
impressions or insights as to what I had seen so far he hurriedly
excused himself.

“I’ll be right back,” he planted a quick
kiss on my cheek and stepped away.

“My but you are a beautiful couple,” a
middle-aged woman who was sitting several seats to the right of me
smiled and said. I wasn’t sure how to respond so I just thanked her
and looked away. “Are you enjoying the show?” I glanced back and
saw that her eyes were earnest and hopeful.

“It’s lovely,” I said.

“I am so glad you are able to appreciate it;
not many young people do this days,” her voice was inflected with
sadness.

Again I was puzzled as to what to say. I
wasn’t used to being in public and was far from comfortable
speaking casually with someone I had never met before.

“I’m sorry if I am being a nuisance but you
look so nervous and fretful without your beau. I thought I would
try to keep you company while he was gone.”

“He’s not my beau,” I said more heatedly
than I intended.

“Oh, I beg your pardon. I just assumed…you
were holding hands and the way he looked at you…Forgive me,” she
mumbled and turned away.

I hated myself just then, “No, wait. I’m
sorry. We…we just had a little disagreement as we sat down and I
am…” my voice was full of contrition.

“It’s OK, dear, I understand. It’s none of
my business, really,” she said looking relieved and satisfied by my
attempt to apologize. I must have looked as crestfallen as I felt
and her face softened sympathetically, “I’m sure it will all work
out. Just be sincere and remember if you love one another that is
what matters; not whether you are right or whether you are
wrong.”

It was a very astute thing for her to say
and I felt ashamed for how angry I had been and how sharply I had
spoken with Herrik. The lights flashed and a few moments later he
came and took his seat beside me. He still seemed reluctant to meet
my eye and to speak with me.

“I’m sorry Herrik; I’m sorry for the way I
reacted.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he took my hand as if to
emphasize what he was saying and brushed a kiss across my knuckles,
“I should have told you. We should have talked about it first. I
should have gone about tonight differently.”

There wasn’t time for either of us to say
anything more but it was a relief to hear his regrets and it
greatly improved my spirits. I briefly laid my cheek against his
shoulder and he kissed the top of my head as the show resumed.

The final act was the most impressionable.
My emotions were tumultuous as I considered all the potential
outcomes. I truly felt for Madama Butterfly and hoped for her
eventual happiness but I knew in my heart that it would be
absolutely impossible for her to find it. I could feel my lips
begin to quiver and the tears pooling in my eyes as she prayed
while awaiting the arrival of her lover.

“Oh,” I whimpered, “no, no, NO!” my mind
wailed. I instinctively knew what was going to happen and I was so
engrossed by the scene that I started to rise from my seat. I
wanted to cry out to her; beg her to stop and to comfort and
console her but I still had enough presence of mind to realize
where I was and that what my mind believed was happening wasn’t
truly.

When it was over I slumped back against my
seat with my face buried in my hands. I was filled with grief and
sadness and I quietly wept for Madama Butterfly. I felt Herrik’s
hands softly caressing my back, “Emily,” he whispered, “Emily, it’s
over. Ssh,” he soothed, “ssh.”

I turned toward him and grabbing his lapels
sobbed against his chest. I desperately wanted him to let me in so
I could feel his strength and surety and not the devastation that
was making my heart race and body tremble with such violent
emotion.

“Why?” I asked, “Why would you want me to
feel this way?” I looked up so I could see his face and read his
expression and when I did I saw that he was fighting his emotions,
too.

He was just as upset as I was though not
quite so outwardly and perceptibly. Once I realized it I knew that
if he opened himself up to me just then it would only intensify
what we were both already feeling. Herrik wasn’t rejecting me but
protecting me from the overload of sorrow.

“Here darling,” the woman I had spoken with
earlier handed me a packet of tissues.

“Oh, thank you,” I smiled weakly and pried
myself off of Herrik.

“Was this your first time?” she asked as I
carefully dabbed my eyes and dried my nose. I nodded then tried to
hand the package back. “Then perhaps you should keep them. You
might need them again before the night is over,” she smiled
suggestively.

I thought she might be right as I reflected
on all that I had seen and heard, “Thank you,” I said again.

She said goodbye then shrugged herself into
her coat and disappeared.

We lingered as long as we could and when I
finally felt ready I glanced around the nearly empty theater one
last time then let Herrik lead me away.

We slowly walked away from the theater and I
was indeed thankful for the tissues. The final act echoed in my
mind and I choked up more than once while we made our way down the
sidewalk back towards the car.

Herrik had his hands thrust in his pockets
and was looking straight ahead as we moved along.  “Are you
disappointed?” he asked and I couldn’t help thinking that he was
reluctant to hear my thoughts. 

“I don’t know if disappointed is the right
word.  It was beautiful…and thought-provoking.  I can’t
imagine what she must have felt – living with all that uncertainty;
her heart broken and with a child to raise.  I wasn’t prepared
for the way it ended and...” I sniffled, “maybe I’m just a little
disillusioned.”  Then I added with a touch of humor, “All the
stories I’ve read have had such happy endings,” I started to smile
but when I glanced up and saw Herrik’s reaction my heart
sank.  He looked so…so…remorseful.

“It was a better representation of life than
most stories are, Emily.  Things seldom end as well in fact as
they do in fiction.”

There was something in his voice that began
to make me wonder if there was another reason Herrik had brought me
to the opera that night; if there was some meaning he wanted me to
discover and take away from it all.  Before I could really
consider it I nearly blurted out, “What kind of man would…” and
suddenly my thoughts were transported to a night I had nearly
forgotten.  I remembered Herrik telling me about his wife;
that he didn’t love her.  He confessed to me that he had
cheated on her and in doing so had become what he was and ruined
not only his own life but hers along with the life of their son and
countless others as well. 

I stopped and reached out to force him to
face me.  “Is that how you see yourself, Herrik?  Is that
who you think you are; how you think I see you?  How could you
even imagine such a thing?  You are nothing like that
man!”

He met my eye for a brief moment then
anxiously looked away, “I need to get you home, Emily.”

I knew he wouldn’t give me the answer I was
looking for and a pang a panic ran through me.  I was
determined to know and as he began to lead us towards the car again
I angrily asked a series of questions.

“This was our last night together wasn’t
it?  You’re not planning on taking me out any more?  But
why?” my words hung in the silence between us.  I thought I
knew the answers but needed to hear them from Herrik in order for
them to hold any truth.

“You’ve grown so much, Emily, since you came
to us.  Artur and Avery and Penny have molded you into such an
exceptional woman.  You are beautiful and smart and
sophisticated; so polished and so…alive…in here,” Herrik laid his
hand over my heart, “and here,” he kissed my forehead.  
Seeing how much the opera meant to you…watching your emotions so
raw and so beautiful as they washed over you!  I suspected…and
now I know…I’m falling in love with you Emily…and I can’t let that
happen!  Our worlds are as different as the two people’s you
saw tonight and there is no way it will end other than badly for
us…for you especially.”

Herrik started walking again and I hung back
a few feet before I reluctantly began to follow.

I was flabbergasted.  I had always
loved Herrik but I thought it was the kind of love that came from
knowing one another so long; from being close and having so much in
common.  I never suspected that he loved me back or that it
was anything more than a strong, mutual admiration.  There was
something nagging at me telling me that I was wrong; that I
deliberately clung to the idea so I wouldn’t have to face the fact
that he didn’t love me.

“But he does!”

I could feel my blood stirring with the
sudden realization. It was a very strange feeling, that somehow I
remembered him, was a part of him and he was a part of me and those
parts were longing to be reunited. It was all I could think about;
how much I loved him and always wanted to share with him all the
wondrous sensations we created whenever we were together.
 Herrik stopped long enough for me to catch up and stood with
his back to me.

“And I cannot…I 
will
 not
let you suffer the consequences of loving me,” Herrik spoke over my
thoughts as I stood shaking my head
no
unwilling to hear
such horrifying words.  “I think it’s time for you to go home,
Emily. I’ve kept you far too long.”

“Home?”  I whispered. 

“Yes. Home, to your family. I know you’ve
thought about it. I know how much you’ve missed it. You want a
normal life, Emily. You don’t want to live like this…you’re not
meant to live like this.”

“No,” I muttered.  “I can’t. I don’t
even remember my family!”

“I’ll help you.”