The History of the Phantom

Bittersweets

I was home with Gustave and his daughter later that evening. I was watching over the little girl as he silently mourned over Mary while he stared at photographs of his wedding. When you looked at him, it was pretty obvious he felt cold and bitter deep inside his gut. Who could blame him? He thought he was going to raise a child with his beloved wife by his side. Instead she died shortly after giving a life to their baby. I have never seen him this upset before. I wish I could have done something to make him feel better. I knew I couldn't because the only thing that would cheer him up was if she walked through the front door, happy and alive. Unfortunately, I couldn't make that happen.

I was writing a letter to his cousin in the dining room while the baby sat next to me in a bread basket. She was still very small at the time and I was worried to take my sight off of her. I couldn't carry her crib out of her bedroom because it was too heavy. I thought putting her in a large bread basket with a blanket would work just as well. When I was reading the parenting books in the library in Gustave's house, I learned children drank the milk out of their mother's breasts for food. I was reading books for parents because I assumed Gustave would be using most of his time crying over the death of his wife for the next week or so. In that case, I had to figure out how to take care of his daughter in the mean time. Anyways, I knew nobody in the house could feed her that way. Then I remembered my conversation with Gustave's cousin, Penelope, that I met during his wedding. She had told me she was a wet nurse. I didn't know what that was at the time but the books explained it to me. I was writing to Penelope for her to come over so the child could get her nutrition.

I put the letter in an envelope and sealed it up. I walked in the living room to ask Gustave what Penelope's address was to deliver to letter. When I walked into the room, his eyes were glued on to the picture of him and Mary kissing under the white arch from their wedding. It took him a while to realize I was in the room holding his daughter.

"Oh. Erik," He stammered. I smiled at him as I sat in the rocking chair next to the couch.

"How are you holding up?" I asked him. He answered my question with a sad sigh.

"I'm really sorry," I said quietly. He looked at the baby in my arms. He was studying every detail of her face.

"She looks just like Mary," He said as he smiled slightly," how long have you been home with her?"

"Three, four hours."

He looked straight up at me with complete shock," you have been home for that long?! Oh god, I didn't realize! I already suck as a father."

"No you don't. You've just been wrapped up with other things."

"Yeah but I still should have taken care of her. Thank you for watching over her as I threw myself a pity party."

"Hey, it's my pleasure. Anyone would understand what you are going through right now. Would you like to hold your baby?"

"Yeah I would."

I handed the child to Gustave. Seeing his daughter smile at him made him laugh a bit. I'm glad he finally brightened up.

"After you ran out of the hospital room, my dad handed her to me. She was so calm and adorable," I told him.

"What? Your dad?" He looked at me with confusion.

"Long story short, my broke mother found a very successful doctor. She dated him for his money. The doctor's father had a disfigured face. She got pregnant with me and left him," I explained.

"Oh. Do you think you're going to visit him again? You know, form a relationship with him."

"I don't think so. Can I have Penelope's address? I wrote her a letter to drop by to feed the baby."

"Yeah sure." He wrote down her address on a piece of paper.

"What should the baby's name be?" I asked him.

"I don't know... How about Christine? I met Mary at a play. She was the main lead and I was in the violin section of the orchestra. The role she performed as was named Christine."

"That's a lovely name."

Only two days later, Penelope arrived at the house. She comforted Gustave and breastfeed Christine. Christine had been crying non stop since nobody could feed her. The books I read said that newborns can't eat any hard solids. I tried giving her mashed up fruits, but she could never surpass two bites. Then I attempted regular cow milk that I found in the fridge. It worked slightly better, but it was still a struggle. Christine often spat out the drink since it didn't have the same nutrients as milk from a woman. I couldn't help but feel responsible for the child's well being. It's not that I didn't trust Gustave or something. Hell, I trusted him more than I did with myself. After all, he was the father. It's just that he was hurting at the time because of Mary. I wanted him to focus on himself and build his strength back up.

I walked to Gustave and Penelope when they were cooking lunch in the kitchen. I needed to tell them I had to go back to the fair. I didn't want to, but I knew the tall man would find and kill me if I didn't show back eventually. Even though I was frightened at what he would do to me, the last thing I wanted to do is leave Christine before Penelope showed up. Now since she was here, it was my time to head back to home.

"Hey. I need to head back home," I told them. Gustave opened his eyes wide with fear. He knew shit was about to go down.

"Want me to walk you back?" He offered.

"No I'll be fine. Just take care of yourself for now."

I walked out of the house, hiding the horror that is running through my head. I have never been out of the building for this long before in my life.