Book of Desire and Music
21.
|
CARMEN
L'amour est un oiseau rebelle que nul ne peut apprivoiser, et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle, s'il lui convient de refuser. Rien n'y fait, menace ou prière, l'un parle bien, l'autre se tait ; et c'est l'autre que je préfère : il n'a rien dit, mais il me plaît. L'amour ! etc. |
CARMEN
Love is a rebellious bird that no one can tame, and it's quite useless to call him if it suits him refuse. Nothing moves him, neither threat nor plea, one man speaks freely, the other keeps mum; and it's the other one I prefer: he's said nothing, but I like him. Love! et |
“I can’t do it.” Christine sighed then while the mentor of her’ held his fingers from tapping at the piano. Madame Valerian who was seated near Christine approached her. She held the younger singer into her arms.
“It’s okay, my dear. You can take a rest now.” Christine heeded her mentor’s partner request. She walked to the seating nearby and slumped there. Madame Valerian then approached her partner on the piano.
“Jean, it’s late already. She had been at it for two hours now. We got to let her rest.” The Madame then sat herself at the piano seat. Jean was quiet with his eyes on the piano keys.
“She is not our Margot. We got to accept that. Even if Margot is here, we cannot punish her if she is not ready.”
“No, my dear. Christine is not ready to be our envisioned Margot but she sound better than the so called Diva. I just need to hone her vocals to certain decibels and she will be ready.” Jean looked at the sleeping singer at the seating. “We saw the gem in her when we took her on. We agree to train her and we shall.”
“Let us rest for now.”
Rest was what Emil did at the upper ramparts that lined the area beneath the roofing. He was sent there to repair the leakages and given his need to unseen, he only work at after dark. He was comfortable working in the dim light with his days spent in the catacombs. He does not fear the darker beings there if they ever do.
Emil looked at the moonlight that stole through the cracks in the roofing. He then took up the strips of paper with the layer of tar on it. He then plastered it to stop the leak. There were places where he had patched before but needed more patching. One of the consolations of working during the dark was the silence. He could then open his mind to the thoughts of his mother and her voice on the music that he loved to hear. It was a piece from Carmen that le loved. Whenever he hears that chorus, Emil will try to stand upright and marched like the little soldiers that he arranged on the floor.
CHŒUR DES GAMINS
Avec la garde montante,
nous arrivons, nous voilà.
Sonne, trompette éclatante !
Taratata, taratata !
Nous marchons la tête haute
comme de petits soldats,
marquant sans faire de faute,
une, deux, marquant le pas.
Les épaules en arrière
et la poitrine en dehors,
les bras de cette manière
tombant tout le long du corps.
Avec la garde montante, etc.
CHORUS OF STREET BOYS
Right beside the relief guard,
here we come, here we are!
Blow out, loud trumpet!
Taratata, taratata!
We march with head erect
like little soldiers,
keeping time with no mistakes -
one, two - keeping step.
Shoulders back
and chest well out,
arms this way
straight down beside the body.
Right beside the relief guard, etc.
At that moment, Lenier closed the door to the unit he considered as his personal chamber. He saw the lady standing there by the only outlet to the outside. The moon light shrouded the standing figure giving it a silvery from enhanced by the white sleeping gown.
“You send Emil to his works.” It was not a question by Madame Giry but a statement. “I am happy that he is out to work for it will do him good to find something useful to do.”
Lenier nodded and then approached the wash basin prepared for him by the lady. That was one of the privileges that he had not when he was alone. Ever since he had so called offer sanctuary to the deformed boy, he had the personal company of the lady. She had done many things that a lady would had done; changing his linens and dusting his shelves but she stopped at her personal intrusion on her body. He had not forced himself on her for he wanted her for her love and not for lust.
“He is fixing the leakages.” Lenier removed his tunic and exposing his scarred body. He took up the cloth there to wipe the grime there. It felt good to be clean after a hard day’s work. The owners have insisted on the cleaning works.
“I will not have the new owners woe to me on their displeasure of the property after it’s handed over. Words like that will be among the others in the gentlemen circle.” Coligny told Lenier. He then looked at Debeninne. “If you may, Colonel. Please order your officer or was it a non-commissioned officer.”
Lenier felt the slight on his personality then to be called a non-commissioned officer. He had performed his best for the Legion and got a medal for it. It was his personal records that prevented him to improve his rank; attacking a senior officer was one. He did it twice to protect the Colonel.
“Are you ready for bed?” Lenier felt the arms around him but he pulled them apart. He picked up a new tunic from the stacked pile near the wash basin.
“Why do you not want me?” The lady asked of him. “I thought you…”
“I do, my ….dear but I am not one to rush things through.” Lenier turned to the lady. “I am tired.”
With that, Lenier approached the bedding. He motioned her to lie on it while he may need some time to think.
“What ails you, Lenier?”
“It’s the House. I feared it may need more than repairs. The structure is under pressure from the nearby works and the foundation beneath us is unstable. I knew of these as I was with the engineers that construct the structures in Algeria. We were taught to build in the shifting sands.”
“So fix it. Ask the owners. The new ones. They need to know and they will pay.” Madame Giry spoke out. “They need a …”
“More collections. As soon as the Phantom tales lay dying, the collections dwindled. We are losing out to the newer houses.”
“The Phantom? Is it real? I heard of the accidents; the falling pieces, the missing musician equipment, and the howlings. Are they true?”
“Does the tree not grow leaves? Yes, the Phantom is real. As real as our love. Together and yet apart.” The lady reached for her lover.
“Then shall we stay together while we could? Make me feel like a woman once more. ” The lady pleaded with the other. Lenier was to resist but the lady was ever persuasive.
22.
Madame Carlotta stood there nude as she was on the day of her birth while the water rinsed off her body from the bath she had taken. It was good for her to take one every morning for it will cleaned her body of the previous night events. She was not short of companions on her bedding and husbands that gave up on her. She stepped out of the six feet in length with a width of three feet and depth of two feet but that was not the beauty of it. The tub was gold coated.
Carlotta loved the shade of gold.
And more when it was blocks of it.
“Carlotta, are you ready for another round?” The diva looked to the bedding where the lover of the night lying there. He was sprouting a sizeable dimension but the lady was past her need for it.
“No, I am waiting for breakfast.” The lady put on the dressing gown and looked at the morning spread. “I told them no milk. I had my share of milky proteins.”
Soon after the meal, properly dressed, the Diva raised her question to the companion that shared her bedding then
“Phillipe darling, why did you ask for Christine to be placed as my back up chorus?” The companion sat there held the cup that he was to drink.
“I am the Diva, darling.” The Diva continued on and she was not stopping yet. Her tone raised two decibels. “Who is Christine to you?”
“Christine is my brother’s current girl. And he has been discharged from the Academy. He is coming back.” The Comte continued on with his drink. He was not faithful to whom he chose to share his bedding and the Diva offer was too great to resist. It was not every evening that he gets a Diva to bed and more rare to get one to give you a good blow. He did return the favour with an orgasm licking but that was last night.
“So young brother is coming back and you arrange the girl to sing? You are so stupid.” Carlotta snapped back. She was not one to hold back when people with better rankings than the Comte had patronised her before.
“I think my …” The Comte took up the napkin to dab at his lips but the Diva was not finished yet.
“You know what was on my mind? Phillipe, you are not doing it for the brother of yours. You were doing it for yourself. You want to fuck your own brother’s girl.”
The Comte sat there momentarily staring at the Diva soak the scone with the fruit jam. He was thinking then of his brother. He loved him but there was a rivalry between them since young. He was going after what his brother was trying to own.
“I be gong now.” The Comte stood up but the Diva was not done.
“Let me give you a passage to remember for our night. It’s from Pagliacci.
Nedda(Italian)
Che m’ami?
Hai tempo a ridirmelo
Stasera, se il brami
Facendo le smorfie
Colà sulla scena.
Nedda
That you love me?
You will have time to tell me that
tonight, if you so wish,
while you perform your tricks
there on the stage.
“Sorry, darling. I won’t be playing tricks with you tonight. I am on the main stage with some other clown.” The Comte replied and then left. He was in no hurry for no one rushed him. He boarded the carriage there and soon was on his way to the river docks. The meeting was nit at the docks but on the barge on the river.
“Champagne, Comte.” The gentleman there offered the Comte who was seated across him on small table laid on the deck of the barge. The spread there was minimal if one considered a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses there. Plus the best that French could offer for cheese.
“I know it’s a simple meal here.” The Comte heard the other and took his seat.
“So what is the occasion, Chief Inspector Buquet? How may I help you?” The Comte took the drink offered. “How did you know I was here?”
“Well, you know how the dock yard rumours run. They travelled down the River Seine and soon reached my office. As we heard you are buying some business here.” The Chief Inspector took on the cue to explain his presence. “We are just here to protect your investment. You know some of these business have bad reputation and we do not want you to be tarnish by it.”
“Merci, Chief Inspector. I am indebted to you.” The Comte did nod with his head. “But I am ever careful with my investment.”
“That is good. Pardone me for taking your champagne without advising you. I believed your guests are here.” The Chief Inspector stood up when he saw two gentlemen disembarking at the carriage on the dock. “I must be going,”
“And I shall not hold you.” The Comte stood up and did a bow to the other. “Good day, Chief Inspector.”
The inspector took the plank toward the dock and did a courteous nod to the new arrival.
“Comte, we thank you for the invitation. Did we interrupt your other meeting?” It was Firmin who asked the other. He had arrived with Armand and they took their seats when motioned by the host.
“Are we on track, gentlemen?” The Comte dropped all pretentious expression and went into the matter. “The sample is here for your review.”
Two crews of the barge carried a rectangle case to the table. They placed it on the deck next to the table. The Comte leaned down to open the cover. Both the other gentlemen placed a smile on their faces.
“The Maxim machine gun. English design. Loads the .303 calibre and recoil operated. It fires five hundred over round per minute. For your gold, fifty of these will be delivered to your port in the colonial states.” The Comte then covered the case cover.
“It’s the question of the guns we are here, Comte. It’s the payment in full upon shipment.” Armand brought the issue up. “We know you are committed to the series of acquisition. You requested that we buy the Opera House to complete the …”
“The Opera House? I have already explained to you the plans of the acquisitions. I need a safe passage and then the catacombs present it.” The Comte explained.
“So you have, Comte but the diversion of part of our funds to acquire the House have left us with a dent in the payment to you.” Firmin replied. “And you asked for full payment on shipment? We need to….”
“Gentlemen, I am a busy person. We either agree or disagree.” The Comte looked away to the river. “I have other buyers. They will pay me equal or more.”
“Comte, may I remind you of our deal?” Armand rose to his feet but he was held back by his other partner.
“Pardon my friend, Comte. We will honour our deal as you would. We will take possession upon full payment as agreed.” Firmin pulled his partner to leave the barge. Once they were back on board the carriage, Armand demanded an apology from his partner.
“I do apologies but please do not weigh on me the issue. If we failed to acquire the guns, we are both dead men.” Firmin explained. “The Opera House is a small hindrance but it will serve us as well. No one really knows the full extent of the catacombs and we can use the Opera House as the staging area.”
“What if we were to meet the Comte’s men if he was to ship by there?” Armand asked.
“We do like what our forefathers did. We take it for ourselves like Captain Kidd.” Firmin replied. “Who could he complained to? The authorities? I doubt so.”
“I can agree. After all, we hold enough guns then,”
The Comte stared at the departing carriage with his thoughts on the words spoken earlier.
“They cannot be trusted. I will plan my own to that they die like lovers.” The Comte muttered to himself. His mind then was the dying moments of the play Romeo and Juliet.
ROMEO
Neither tears nor entreaty,
nothing, nothing can soften them!
To the gates of heaven,
Juliet, to the gates of heaven and to die!
JULIET
To die! Ah, fever bewilders you!
What delirium seizes upon you?
My beloved, come to your senses!
ROMEO
Alas!
I thought you dead and I drank this poison!
ROMÉO
Ni larmes, ni prière,
Rien, rien ne peut les attendrir !
À la porte des cieux !
Juliette, à la porte des cieux ! et mourir !
JULIETTE
Mourir ! Ah ! la fièvre t’égare !
De toi quel délire s’empare ?
Mon bien-aimé, rappelle ta raison !
ROMÉO
Hélas !
Je te croyais morte et j’ai bu ce poison !
“Bonsoir, gentlemen.” The Comte raised his glass. “May you have a better life in your next life.”
23.
ALL (to Don José)
Take to the country with us,
come with us into the mountains,
come with us and you'll take to it there
when you see, away over there,
how fine is the wandering life;
the whole world your domain,
your own free will for law!
And above all that intoxicating thing:
Freedom! Freedom!
The open sky, the wandering life,
the whole wide world your domain;
your own free will for law,
and above all that intoxicating thing:
Freedom! Freedom!
Christine was elated on receiving the letter that Raoul was on his way home. He was taking a tour before he returned. It will be soon when the play will start. Her euphoria was halted by the call to practise and she did it well. So much better that the mentor of hers praised her loudly.
“Viola! You got it.” Jean the pianist applauded her but not the Diva who stormed off the stage on the excuse she was unwell. The Diva departure was not sighted by the others for everyone was cheering the younger singer.
“You did well!” That accolade came from the Conductor.
It was rare but Madame Giry stepped up to congratulates her daughter but the other took the hug casually and then walked away to re-join the other dancers. The Madame was slighted by her daughter move and left for her solace with the new companion of hers.
“I am sure Christine needed some time to …understand our relationship.” Lenier leaned down to kiss the Madame on the left side of the head. “She is not used …”
“You protect her too well, Lenier. Like….a real father would be.” The Madame held her face down on her hands and tears flowed.
“He…..No, it was not his fault but she could not be made to understand it. She had once asked of him but that was years ago. And now you are here, she may…” The Madame shook her head and then cried out. “Why? Why must he die before he could let his daughter see him?”
Lenier held the lady he loved close to his chest. He had no words to console her then but his eyes averted to the doorway and saw the Madame’s daughter there. He pulled away and then tapped the Madame’s left shoulder.
“Christine is here.”
“Hello, mother.” Christine saw the man leaving them alone. It was comforting then for she wanted to be with her mother.
“Mother, I miss you.” Christine reached out with her hand to the lady she considered her mother. “I know you are …I did not mean to push you away then. I was in joy and also in pain.”
The mother of the child looked at her and Christine voiced out.
“Mother, why did you replace father ….my father with him. The man may have offered us sanctuary but why do you have to share his bed? I ..I am not telling you how to lead your life but …Mother, you…”
The mother tried to silence the daughter but the later was adamant on spilling her emotions out. Christine held out her right finger to the mother’s lips.
“You are kind and generous. You saved a boy from a … beastly life, and ….allowed me to sing.” Christine continued on. “You done wonder with me but I need to know why you fell for that man? It’s not that I dislike him but he…”
“He is old like me. He may be your father’s age. He had done so much for us. Why can’t he…”
“You don’t understand. You won’t ever.” Christine left her mother there. She felt then her mother had spoiled her joy. She went to look for her mentor and the caretaker.
“Christine, do you know the tale behind Carmen?” Jean Valerian looked to the singer that he had nurtured for some time then.
“Carmen was a lady with her own ideas and values. True, she was portray a gypsy,; renowned for their wild streaks but maybe it was the life Carmen wanted. She needed no man to be protected, to love, to share her life but she lived it to the fullest. It was Don Jose who the opposite of her; wanting her love, doing silly things for her, and even joining the bandits but in the end, he was not hers to want.”
“Jose did not kill her. She died in his arms because she wanted to end it all. Life then was restricting her freedom and she let herself be killed. She walked into his knife and died then. She held no regrets but Jose did. He was the weakling here.”
“If you want to sing like Carmen, you have to be free spirited and hold no need for love.”
“You must be Christine Daaé, the diva to be. You must desire only that. If you must make a deal with the Devil, let it be. For you are to be the Diva.” The pianist looked at Christine. “Despair no more, rejoice no less, for the world awaits you as the next Diva.”
Christine had then dried her tears and thanked her mentor. She strolled off to re-join the others but the pianist was confronted by his lover.
“Old man, what did you do to her? You may have just…” Jean Valerian looked to his lover and stopped her.
“No, I merely opened her view to the real world of being the Diva. She cannot be restraint now. She need to be free to perform.”
And Christine performed better then.
It was to many but not one who held the gift of listening with perfection on the tones.
24.
Emil sat there on the dark corner of the rampart listening to the ladies rehearsing on the stage. He cringed on the various levels of tones that came from the different singers. He could tell the ones that were suited to be named as singer and there were only two.
One was older but her vocals were good. She hit the pitch required to bring out the emotions to the chords while the second was younger. She sounded good too and was improving by the days of practicing then. They are all good but they lacked the final pitch that will define them above the others.
One had yet to learn it, and the other had yet to reach it.
Not till then when he heard the singing that afternoon. It was the younger one, and she was hitting the pitches that were never reached before. Emil sat there transfixed by her voice and his memories reverted to his mother once more.
“Mother…you could…do that too.” Emil stammered out. Then he heard the call to stop.
“You are not doing it right.” Emil looked over the rampart and down to the stage. The figures were small like the toy soldiers that he held in his fingers but the voices could be heard there.
“You are supposed to hit the chords at minus-C and then slowly tapered off.” Jean Valerian the pianist roared out his frustration. “How many times do I need to tell you?”
Emil saw Christine standing by the piano holding the leaf of music sheets with her trembling left hand. She was almost in tears then. It was her ninth attempt to do the line and she still failed. It was no better when the other voice was added to the symphony of pain by the lady Diva herself.
“She can’t do it. She may had hit the notes on some but overall, she deserved to be in the chorus line.” The Diva then resting at the far end of the stage approached the Conductor.
“Jean can attest to it.” The Conductor looked at the Diva and then nodded. He was after all a player in the symphony when it came to the Diva’s attention. Or non if he was to disagreed.
“So Mr, Valeries, please….” The Diva was cut off by the Madame Valerian.
“It’s Valerian and it’s time for lunch now.” The Madame clapped her hands together to signal that lunch was to be served. “Madame Diva, your lunch is at the Dressing Room. I best hurry before it gets cold.”
“Or worse, taken by the rodents.” On the mentioned of the rodents the Diva went into a berserk mood and demanded that she be taken to the Ritz for her meal.
“You may all continue without me this afternoon.” The Diva stormed off the stage leaving everyone amused at her antic but hidden from her view their snigger.
Christine meanwhile looked at her mentor for some consolation but the older musician decided to leave for his lunch. It was the Madame who stepped forth to console her.
“Don’t be sad. Jean care for you. He just wanted you to be the Diva that he had hoped of our daughter.”
“I know, Madame. You told me many times but I still feel as if I am not worth it.”
“And evrry Diva felt the same on their bad performing days but they will recover for the next performance. You must. You must always free yourself of the misgivings and the past. Be like Carmen. She is a free spirit.” Madame Valerian smiled. “Now take your lunch and be ready for the afternoon session.”
Emil heard the word spoken as his mother once told him. They are no victory in life but a series of success that you will constantly achieved until your final hour then. For victory stands for an end but success will be ongoing for you. He held that in his mind that every day he will succeed in something. He sat there thinking of the chords that Christine was trying, It was not her voice but the accompaniment.
Madame Valerian was right.
Sometimes the performer can be seen to having a bad day when the symphony lets her down. The music score may be out of tune. Or the drums were out of sync. He replayed the tone that Christine was singing to, and then he gave it his singular thought to every note. He replayed it in his mind piece by piece and then the accompaniment of the different pieces. His fingers tapped the planks as if he was playing the tone. He was studying of the tone and width of the chords.
It was his gift.
“I …have much works to do.” Emil then ran along the rampart to descent to his sanctuary.
Lenier saw the fleeting figure near the roofing and he sighed. The boy was getting bold to come out in the day when he told him that the late night was his work hours. He was standing at the empty stage then holding the broom to sweep the flooring. He felt regretful ever agreeing to the boy but the works that he could not do then was handle by the boy. His regret would be if the boy was ever discovered by someone or one day fell off the rampart, he will live to regret it. He knew his departing owners may forgive him but what of the new owners. Will they be as kind or take it as an excuse to remove him? Where could he go? He had spent his later years here soon after a series of jobs that he could not hold down except the Colonel offered him here. And he found solace with the woman when others before her had ignored or scorned him on his last coins.
“I best be going to bring Emil his lunch.” Lenier heard the lady that bestowed him the gift of belonging and yet burdened him with the boy. He watched the lady carried the small basket to the corridor that led to the doorway and down the steps into the catacombs. She will not go far but leave the basket near the steps. She may wait there for him to come if he ever does. Or she may stay there to chase the rodents that will be tempted by the food. He never turn up but she knew that he was out there looking at her. She feared the darkness there and each time she does the chore, her prayers go out to the boy. Then she will leave before the others looked for her up there.
While Madame Giry took the usual steps to the doorway, she could not help feeling the eyes on her from her lover. He was kind and humble but Christine will not still accept him. She felt the sadness inside her for that. She had brought it upon herself the task when she took pity on the boy, and she repaid his kindness with her care. It was not that of a wife but of a caretaker. Initially, she took to clean his room and his clothes, but she evaded his stare at her. She was afraid then not for Christine but herself.
Could she love a man once more when the last one was so long ago? She felt that she was not the lady she was then and the desires were not there. Her then love was Christine but that soon faded when her daughter found more in the guardian than her. She felt the loss then and soon felt the need to be loved.
Lenier was there then but it took her courage to take on the next level of their companionship. It was not for the gratitude he had offered but she needed the feeling of being held close. She finally chose him and to rekindle her desire.
No comments:
Post a Comment