Condemnation & Redemption Pt. 03

Story and Music © PostScriptor 2019

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Elegie, Jules Massenet
Performed and recorded by PostScript (c) 2019
Yamaha Keyboard, Yamaha Synthesizer (flute)
Best if you have good speakers or a headset on your computer.
Click Here to listen: or . (1.5 min/mp3)

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~~* IX. Present Day, Nashville, TN *~~

The following day the Adam's were once again in my office. This time I had the papers in my hand from the pathology lab confirming my diagnosis of a non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

"George, Alice and especially Phil — the path lab confirmed my diagnosis this morning of a very treatable form of what we call a 'non-Hodgkins lymphoma,' or NHL for short. In layman's terms it is a cancer of the lymphatic system..."

I explained in some detail just what NHL was, how it could effect the blood as well as a number of other organs in the immune system. We also discussed what the most likely treatment would be.

"To be honest, as much as I think we are as good as anywhere in the world to provide you with treatment, there are Oncologists and hospitals in the Chicago area that would also be excellent choices for Phil. I only mention this because I know that it can make an unpleasant treatment worse — and let's be clear, chemo and radiation therapies are always unpleasant — if you compound it with having to travel back and forth."

All three of Adams nodded their understanding before George replied.

"Christian, thanks for being so considerate of our situation, but it won't be a problem. I've purchased a condominium/apartment in one of the high-rise complexes across from the Vandy Medical Center on Hillsboro Pike. So Phil won't need to travel back and forth, he'll just be going across the street.

"And truthfully, I wouldn't want anyone else taking over his treatments. Damn, man, Christian, we've talked it over together in private, and we simply trust you to handle Phil's treatment and don't want to go to anyone else."

"George, I'm honored by your vote of confidence," I replied with a smile, "So long as travel won't be an issue and I guess you've got that squared away."

The end of our meeting was basically scheduling the additional testing that we needed to do to fine tune Phillip's treatment and to get started. I would consult with one of our radiology oncology specialists and most likely start there.

George, always a gracious man, asked me if I would care to join them for dinner the following night followed by a housewarming party their new condo.

Then Phillip added, "Yes, Christian, this way you can see the new digs — it's pretty special. I understand that young pop singer, Taylor Swift, owns a place in the complex as well. Maybe we'll run into her! HAHAHA!

"Oh yeah," he added, "and my fiancée, Stephanie, will be down from Chicago tomorrow visiting us, as well."

"George, Phillip, Alice — it sounds like fun and I look forward to it. Although to be honest, I will be just as happy if we DON'T run into Ms. Swift!" I replied with a laugh.

~~* X. The Next Evening *~~

We met for an early dinner at a small but well-regarded restaurant called 'Beauregard's' south of my place in Brentwood, about halfway to Franklin. The food was one of the increasingly popular 'new Southern' style cuisines in which old Southern dishes were made with fresh ingredients and bringing in different flavors to the traditional mix. It was a fun place that bragged of having 50 different Kentucky and Tennessee whiskies at the bar.

We were seated at a round table for six towards the back of the room and I had taken the seat closest to the back wall looking towards the entrance of the restaurant. We had all been served our drinks and a phone call to Phillip had let him know that his fiancée was only a minute or two away and would arrive any time.

We were eating early because it seems that several of the Adam's new neighbors from their luxury condo association were coming by later that evening for a 'meet and greet' with their new Yankee friends.

The chit-chat at the table was comfortable — Phillip and George talking about the Titans and the Predators — Nashville's sports teams, wondering whether to buy season tickets, while Alice was mildly flirting with me while describing her adventures in Nashville. I was only half paying attention to the conversations while I sipped my drink.

Then she arrived.

I saw her first because of my position at the table. Her golden blond hair, her striking bright blue eyes and her mouth. The way she moved as she walked towards our table. It was if she had never aged and had stayed frozen in time. She was even wearing a red silk dress that, except for the length and fullness of the skirt, was remarkably like what she wore that first time I laid eyes on her.

Our eyes locked and I stood up pushing my chair back with my legs. She stopped in place for a second or an eon in time, while a current, palpable as an electrical connection surged between us.

"Aurora! Mon Dieu! C'est impossible. It cannot be!"

By then the Adams had turned to see what had caught my attention. Phillip was suddenly rising as well, looking at me with a curious look on his face. Perhaps a bit shocked at my reaction.

"Oh, Christian! That's my fiancée, Stephanie Molyneux."

We gazed only at each other as she finally continued to walk towards me until she was only a step away.

"What did you call me?" she asked with great intensity.

"Aurora," I repeated hoping for recognition in her eyes.

Phil tried to interject, "No, no, no, Christian — this is Stephanie. I told you about her..."

She continued to look into my face but she waved her hand at him to be still. Then she spoke to Phil.

"No, Phillip. He's right. My name is Aurora. But I've never gone by my full name and the only one who ever called me that was my Grandmother. My full name is 'Aurora Stephanie Marie Molyneux', but since I was in High School I dropped 'Aurora' and shortened it to Stephanie Marie. I'm afraid after Disney named his 'Sleeping Beauty' Princess Aurora, the other kids made fun of me."

By then I had gotten a better hold on my emotions.

George, trying to take charge and settle the situation, decided to formally introduce us.

"Stephanie, let me introduce you to Dr. Christian Blackhart. Christian, my future daughter-in-law, Stephanie Molyneux."

We gently shook hands before sitting. She was seated next to me with Phillip on her other side. She looked at me and smiled when I pulled her seat out for her as a courtesy.

After I seated myself, I turned to her, "Please accept my apologies, but I was confused for a moment. You look very much like a woman I knew many years ago. You could be her twin!"

When she smiled and her eyes twinkled at me, my heart almost broke in two.

"Apologies accepted. But you will have to tell me about her later on. Maybe I have a long-lost missing twin sister, or more likely a doppelganger. Maybe I'll meet her one day."

I shook my head sadly, "Alas, no. She died many years ago."

Seeing my pain, George changed the subject, asking Stephanie about her flight from Chicago and signaling the waiter to let him know that the last member of our party had arrived.

The remainder of the meal was eaten in a genial atmosphere and with pleasant conversation. Except for the fact that I couldn't remember anything that was said. I was in a mental turmoil, restraining myself from turning to the woman next to me and confessing my eternal love and devotion. I'm sure that she would have turned and fled instantly had I succumbed to my temptation.

Alice was seated across from me next to George and when I would glance in her direction, she would give me a little half-smile, although the smile didn't reach as far as her eyes. She looked like she wanted to have a private conversation with me. I didn't look forward to that!

She finally spoke.

"Earth to Christian! There you are again, just pushing your food around and not eating. Really, no wonder you are so trim and fit looking!" she laughed.

I smiled back at her, "I'm sorry, because I know that the food here is just tremendous, but I get distracted sometimes thinking about my patients. Not Phil, understand. He will come through in fine shape, but a couple of the others I'm treating — well, their cancers were much worse and they aren't doing that well." I was hoping that my misleading excuse would distract her.

"But in truth, I'm not that hungry and I wasn't paying attention." I lifted my wine glass to her.

She lifted one eyebrow at me.

"We'll talk at the party later, Christian..."

I don't think that she bought my explanation.

~~~* XI. fevrier 1689, L'Mort d'amour *~~~

For the first time since I arrived at Fontainebleau to produce a horoscope for Madame de Montespan, I was approached by one of the Royal Guardsmen with a measure of respect and politeness.

"Monsieur Astrologie, l'Roi has requested your presence in his chambers."

I was probably as astounded as he, for although the King had summoned me many times before, it was never to his private chambers. I wasn't sure of why I was being brought into his presence this evening, but I honestly couldn't remember anything specific that I had done to offend him. Perhaps he was ill?" But no. He had an entire cadre of physicians at his fingertips at all times.

Since the guardsman had treated me with such deference, I took only a second to prepare myself.

"Lead on, Captain. The King's request is our highest command."

The guardsman nodded in agreement but didn't reply; he simply began walking before me, his face and rank all that was required to open doors and pass the guards who blocked the rooms that were the inner sanctums of the King's residence.

As we passed through the outer rooms, I could see the looks and glances of the many courtiers waiting there. Some looked with simple curiosity, wondering who this servant being taken into the King's interior rooms might be. Others of the lesser nobility looked on me with an irrational anger, that while they waited for the chance to have a moment with the King, I, in my plain garb and my lowly status was preceding them into the aura of the Sun.

We passed through four or five rooms, I can't remember, each one smaller and occupied with fewer but higher ranking members of the aristocracy than the previous room, before we reached the royal sitting room, just one room away from His Majesties' bed chamber. But still, I felt as if I was in the Sanctum Santorum — the Holy of Holies. I had never been this close to the King's private chambers at Versaille, and this one time in Fountainbleau would never be repeated.

It was a private chamber that we arrived at; a comfortable, small sitting room, the easier to heat. And there on a chair that wasn't quite a throne but which was more regal and grand than any others in the room, sat Louis Quatorze, Le Roi Soleil; Louis XIV, The Sun King.

I immediately bowed and paid my obeisance as court etiquette demanded, until he told me to rise. It was only then that I saw Madame de Montespan sitting in a similar (but much smaller) chair next to the King.

"Ah, Monsieur Coeur d'Noir, you seem well and I understand that you have provided my friend Madame de Montespan a great service?"

I modestly bowed my head in agreement keeping silent before the great man. He always appreciated silent servants.

"Good," he continued, "this is as it should be.

Then he began a new thought, "You are perhaps wondering why you are here?" Again, I was silent and simply waited for his words.

"It seems that a message arrived for you today from a midwife — a Madame d'Amboise — and it made it's way to our attention." I looked in Madame de Montespan's eyes and she, with a slight movement of her head, affirmed that it was she who had raised this issue with The Great King on my behalf.

It was a little disconcerting that the note — no doubt addressed to me — had been waylaid and read. But those who protected the King were always on the lookout for conspiracies against his royal Majesty.

"According to this note, your patient, who you left at Versailles to accommodate our needs here, has entered into her travails. It has been requested that I release you from your duties here in order that you may return to Versailles to assist in this birth."

He motioned for me to approach him and when I was close enough, with his own hand he gave me a piece of paper. This was a great honour! I took it, bowed and back away again, much to the relief of his guardsmen, who seem to think that I might suddenly pull a dagger from my clothes and stab the King! Imbeciles.

"This will assist your return to Versailles. Travel well and I hope that your patient appreciates that even the King of France wishes her an easy birth and a healthy child."

With that and a wave of his hand, I was dismissed.

As I left the room the next petitioner, one of the angry faces from before, was ignoring me as he tried to gather his wits for his time before the King. He leapt to his feet even before I was completely in the antechamber.

I only stopped when I had reached the outermost, most public of the rooms that led to the King, where I finally read the note that the King had given me.

It read,

"I, Louis, King of France, direct my servants to return the bearer of this note to Versailles with all dispatch.

Louis"

Armed with that note I found myself once again in a carriage, this time in the middle of the night, being delivered back to my love at the great palace. As rough as the ride was, wrapped in my cloak for warmth, I fell asleep sitting up.

~~***~~

Back at Versailles, it soon became obvious that the note regarding Aurora's impending delivery had been delayed for days — her delivery not being important to anyone except me. By the time I returned, our son had been three days already in this world of tears.

"Ah! Monsignor, I am so glad that you've returned," exclaimed a weary Madame d'Amboise.

"The Count's son is healthy and robust with the lungs of a singer. Although loud, his notes are not always sweet," she continued, "but his mother suffers from the fevre!" Her face fell as she told me that, for she, like all of us, knew that even if a mother survived the ordeal of birth, that childbed fever could take the mother; from the most common women to the Queen!

"Take me to her, immediately!" I instructed her, most likely in a voice much harsher than she deserved, for she was an excellent and careful midwife.

As we entered into her room, Aurora's head turned slightly. I could see from her pallor color and the look of exhaustion in her face that she was gravely ill. Yet she lifted her head and reached out her arms to me.

"Christian! My Christian! My love, you have returned!"

"Oui, my love. I am here for you."

As we came together her arms wrapped around me as much as she was able and she began to kiss my face repeatedly.

I returned her kisses as well, but as soon as I could force myself, I disentangled our arms one from the other in order that I could examine her.

Her lips had been very hot, as was her forehead to the touch. I palpated her abdomen and it felt hard and was obviously painful. I motioned to Madame d'Amboise to the side of the room where we spoke in low voices.

"Did you examine the afterbirth?" I inquired.

"Oui. It appeared to be mostly intact, but there was one area of concern," she stated.

"Did you keep it?" I asked, even knowing that it was unlikely. But I was wrong.

"Oui monsieur. We placed it in Sherry to preserve it should you wish to see it."

I was pleasantly surprised.

"That was very wise of you, madam! Let us examine it again."

Alas, it was clear that a small part of the afterbirth had broken off and remained in the womb.

"The first thing we must do it get the remaining afterbirth out from her," I explained to Madame d'Amboise, who nodded sagely.

"We have already tried, monsieur, by massaging her womb but to no avail thus far. Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Oui. Let us continue to push down on the womb to expel the last piece, but I am considering that perhaps we could also give her a douche of warmed salt water, alternating with a mixture of boiled water mixed with this 'whiskey' from Kantucki that the King finds so agreeable."

Madame d'Amboise and I having developed a plan of actions each took steps to achieve our ends, Madame continuing to urge the womb to rid itself of the poisonous flesh still in my love, whilst I went to acquire the necessary salts and whiskey to make an antiseptic douche. (Of course at the time I would not have described it in such terms, but now I realize just what I was doing.)

I do not wish to turn your stomachs by describing the effluents that we finally flushed out of Aurora's birth canal, but you may imagine. It was bloody, red and yellowish in color and it smelled foul. But we did seem to empty Aurora's system of the evil residue within. By the next morning her temperature was close to normal and her color had improved. We had great hopes that we had conquered the threat to her life. Alas, but non.

But the next several days were a blessed, if temporary respite.

In retrospect, I believe that because she was already so weak from the combination of the birth and more than three days of infection, her system was overloaded beyond our abilities to save her. I've often pondered at night thinking about time travel and in my dreams taking modern antibiotics back to save her. Alas, it could never be more than un rėve; my dream.

We fed my dearest Aurora meat broths although she could only sip small quantities at a time. We brought wine for her to drink, to build up her blood. We used cool cloths to wipe her body to reduce her fevre.

Those first days we hoped that she was beginning to regain her strength, and it seemed that it was so. She could speak with us for short periods of time before falling back asleep. Her body had cooled to a normal temperature.

Due to her illness, for the first time, I was able to stay with her overnight in her apartments. She thought that it great irony that the only time I could be with her all night was only when her condition wouldn't allow us to make love.

It was the time of hope before despair.

About the third day her fevre returned. She began to fade. She could no longer eat even the slightest taste that we tried to feed her. She began to fade in and out of consciousness, more often in her coma than awake.

On the sixth day after the birth, as I slept in the chair I had placed beside her bed, I heard Aurora's voice and it brought me instantly to a fully conscious state.

"Christian? Christian?" she said, to wake me. I was surprised for her voice sounded stronger and more normal than it had since I'd returned.

I moved over to sit on the side of the bed.

"Yes, my dearest love? Je suis ici... I'm right here."

"Oh, my love, hold me. Kiss me!" she requested. I obeyed.

"You know that you have been my only love, oui?"

I nodded.

"And if God grants me my wish, our love will be eternal. I will watch over you until the time comes for you to join me."

She held me close and her arms tightened around me. I kissed her again.

"Please, take care of our son. And don't forget me."

'Never," I promised, "Pas possible. Impossible, I could never forget you.."

We kissed a last kiss and she sighed and settled into my embrace. A moment passed, not even a minute, and I felt her body suddenly relax in my arms as she departed from this life into the next.

I held her there in my arms as I wept. According to Madame d'Amboise, I held her and wept for over an hour, before she and one of her assistants were able to pull me away from my eternal love.

The days that followed her death are absent from my memory for my grief overwhelmed me. I was dévasté. Madame d'Amboise told me long afterwards that I went through all of the motions that were expected of me, but I have no memory of the time.

~~* XII. Current Day Nashville, Soirée at the Adams' *~~

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