The Power of Duet
Do you hear the people sing
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes…
Tomorrow comes!
The last echoes float out to the glittering audience. The curtain drops. The final strains of Les Misérables leave me feeling, as always, powerful and revolutionary. I almost expect my feet to lift off the stage as I step forward with Kyler to take a bow.
The crowd screams and rises in an applauding wave as the characters of Marius and Cosette advance. Kyler smiles beside me as we grasp hands and acknowledge the audience's uproarious praise.
The cheers gain in volume as Javert, Valjean, and the other leads take their turn. Finally, the cast links hands and takes one final bow. The curtain falls for the last time that evening and the actors filter backstage.
"You know something?" I ask Kyler as we head to our dressing rooms.
"What Manda?" he replies, shooting a sidelong glance in my direction.
"I think that of all the shows we've done, this one may be my favorite."
"Oh? And what makes you say that?"
"I love the drama in this one…and the music." We reach my changing room. I turn and lean against the door.
"You like the music in all the shows we do," he retorts, "and there's always plenty of drama."
I give him the glare. "You know what I mean. This one's different. Don't tell me you can't feel its power."
"Of course I can feel the power," says Kyler, "you'd have to be deaf and blind not to."
"I agree," I say, lowering my voice as a pair of harassed-looking stage hands rush by. "I think it would be perfect for partner work."
Kyler opens his mouth to answer, but inside my dressing room, the phone rings. Two rings, then silence.
His eyes meet mine. Then we're through the door and my hand is on the phone before the second round of rings can start. I breathe once, and put the receiver to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Cosette, this is the Director. I need you and Marius downtown…now!"
"What's happened?" I search frantically for a pen, waving away Kyler's questioning gestures.
"I'll tell you when you get here. There's a car waiting for you in the back. The driver knows where to go." And with that, the director hangs up.
"It's for us." I eye the mound of white fabric that makes up my wedding dress and sigh. "No time to change, the car's waiting."
I jump up and the two of us rush through the labyrinth of hallways toward the back exit. Several black clad stage hands, well trained to keep out of the way of hurrying actors, leap out of our path, and only a few privileged, autograph-craving fans delay us.
When we finally reach the door, we step through unnoticed. A lurid yellow taxi is rumbling by the curb. The back door opens, and we slide inside, looking for all the world like a runaway bride and groom wearing a superfluous amount of makeup.
"So," whispers Kyler once we're firmly on our way, "what's up this time?"
"The director wouldn't say. Apparently it's urgent because he said he'd brief us when we got there."
"It looks like we're going to have a chance to try out this music after all."
I nod, feeling my blood fizz with excitement. I doubt there is a criminal alive who can resist the power of Les Miz.
Kyler Elbows me, grinning. "Should we call this new music the drama approach, in honor of your earlier statement?" I role my eyes and ignore him.
The taxi pulls up to a curb, where a cloaked man waits beneath a streetlight. Kyler hops out first, and helps haul me – and my dress - from the backseat. The moment my feet touch the sidewalk, the door slams shut and the cab pulls away.
We approach the Director. He greets us with a curt nod, pointing across the street to a dark jewelry store. "Robber," he says, his deep gravelly voice curt, "experienced. Possibly a singer. The police will arrive in a few minutes. Go." That is enough. I hook my arm through Kyler's. He takes the hint and leads me across the deserted street.
The door is unlocked. A bell tinkles as we step into the darkened building. Kyler reaches up a long arm to silence it, before softly shutting the door. In the dim interior of the building, nothing stirs. No jets of light signal an alarm system. No telltale scratches or tools. I shiver. Only a singer could unlock a door and disable an alarm without a trace.
I cast an anxious glance at Kyler. He's frowning and I can see the glint of his eyes scanning the empty room. He looks at me and nods. It is a singer.
"Let's use the Confrontation from Act I," he whispers, bowing his lanky frame so his lips nearly brush my ear.
"Fine," I whisper back, "but you have to sing Javert's part. I can't reach that low."
He nods, a faint smile twitching his mouth, and together we tiptoe towards the staircase in the back. My skirt's rustling is the only sound. I wish it would be quiet. I gather a mass of fabric in each hand before following Kyler up the stairs.
The peeling, mildewed wallpaper casts a musty smell over the staircase. A stair creaks, and I step quickly to the next. Somewhere in the room overhead a clock ticks steadily. A floorboard groans. Ahead of me, Kyler freezes, listening. The floor complains once more and Kyler motions me to continue after him.
A band of faint, dusty light falls through a partially opened door onto the top stair. Kyler peers through the crack in the door. I step up behind him. Slowly, carefully, he starts easing the door open.
A bar of the same fuzzy illumination falls through a single window facing the street. A shadowy form kneels by a glass counter, muttering to himself. I hear the threads of melodies laced here and there among his mutterings.
Outside, a car's tires squeal on the asphalt. The figure's head shoot's up. As the light catches his features, the memory of cold steel pricks the small of my back. I remember with a chill the zeal he used with that knife.
"Hyde," I whisper, naming the character that wielded the blade. I swallow my gasp, and step half-behind Kyler, trying to banish the snatches of Dangerous Game and Murder! Murder! that weave through my all-too-vivid memories of Jekyll and Hyde.
Kyler recognizes the man's hawkish profile as well. "Varun," he mutters, his eyebrows drawing together. He pushes the door open further. It gives an alarming screech.
Varun's head shoots around, his shoulder-length hair whipping about him in a dark curtain. All I can see of his shadowed face is the wolfish grin spreading across his lips.
Slowly he straightens and swaggers towards us. As he begins to sing, I can feel my body shudder.
"This is indeed
An unparalleled delight!
I had rather hoped
That you would come.
And now my wish comes true –
You have truly made my night!"
I scan Kyler's face, wondering if he will swallow the bait and follow the script. Varun makes the decision for him.
"Welcome Kyler, Manda," he says, opening his arms and bowing mockingly to each of us in turn. "Or should I say Raoul and Christine?"
"Neither," says Kyler, and I sense his muscles tense under his jacket. "It's Marius and Cosette tonight."
"But of course," replies Varun smoothly, gesturing at our wedding attire. "How could I have failed to notice?"
I finally pull my nerves together and step out from behind Kyler to face my one-time enemy. "What are you doing here Varun? Wasn't Hollywood good enough for you?"
My sarcasm is lost on him. He cocks his head to one side. "Why so hostile Mandita?" he inquires, using the pet name that always infuriates me. His wheedling tone would have been convincing had his grin not betrayed him.
"Don't call me Mandita!" I throw at him.
"Why not?"
"You know perfectly well why not."
He advances toward me. "Refresh my memory."
The fury in me spurs a desire to cause him endless agony, but it is not yet the time. "Do the names Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde, and the Phantom sound at all familiar?" I want to add something about his complete becoming of the villains, but decide to hold my tongue.
The outlines of Varun's shoulders rise and fall. "Faintly," he says, "but you can't still be too upset about that little thing, can you?"
"Memories last longer than bruises Varun," I tell him. Kyler nudges me gently in the ribs.
Varun sees the motion, and starts to sing, even before Kyler can open his mouth.
"Here's a hint of gold,
Stuck into a tooth…"
He mocks us, using a song from our current show. Kyler, unphased, begins the Confrontation.
"Valjean, at last,
We see each other plain."
I feel his familiar, powerful energy reaching out to overcome the harsh shock of Varun's voice.
"Pardon Me M'sieur
You won't be needing this no more."
The song Varun has picked is perfect. It's a scavenging song, greedy and merciless, just like him.
It's my turn. I open my mouth and hurl the notes at Varun with all the anger and force I can muster.
"Before you say another word, Javert,
Before you chain me up like a slave again.
Listen to me, there is something I must do"
I feel my music reach out and jar against Varun's savage tones. Varun's foot edges slowly to the left. Reflexively, I step to the right, so I can continue to face him. I feel Kyler behind me, hand at the small of my back; alert, listening, waiting.
When he takes over, I notice the change in Varun's song. The new melody sends icy fingers racing up and down my spine.
"I fee alive!
Where does this feeling of power derive?
Making me know
Why I'm alive.
The song is 'Alive' from Jekyll and Hyde, and heralds the birth of Edward Hyde, the character that first lit the fire still raging between the two of us. It shows that, contrary to his claims, Varun has not forgotten his painful two-year role in my life.
"Men like you can never change," sings Kyler
"A man such as you!"
Hearing my cue jolts me out of my shock. The following section of the song is one that I consider to be one of the hardest bits of music in all of Les Miserables.
Singing counterpoint to Kyler takes most of my concentration. The rest I put into circling and aiming at Varun.
We sing the Confrontation exactly as it is portrayed in the show – with one difference: Instead of hurling the words at each other, Kyler and I fling them at our opponent, who holds his own with his insane solo.
We have turned so the scant light falls on his face, illuminating it with an ironic golden glow. His features are contorted, his crazed eyes fastened on me.
"I have a thirst
I cannot deprive"
A seed of fear, planted in my belly long ago, begins to writhe and squirm. I focus on the words to my song, and their power helps keep the seed at bay.
"There is power in me yet
My race is not yet run!"
Beside me, I feel Kyler's angry tones throwing steel barbs at Varun. His hand on my back keeps our connection strong, and reminds me of our combined strength
"Every man must choose his way
You know nothing of Javert!"
For once, I actually understand the lyrics of this part of the song. I can relate to a man desperate to do the right thing though faced with one who is beyond the ability to forgive.
"I am warning you Javert
There is nothing I won't dare
If I have to kill you here
I'll do what must be done!"
Even our combined efforts hardly seem to make a difference to Varun. Though sweat glistens in beads like twinkling stars on his dark forehead, his attack never wavers in its intensity. If anything, it grows.
"Like the moon, an enigma
Lost and alone in the night
Damned by some heavenly stigma
But blazing with light!"
Next to this delightedly insane power, my solo promise of "Your child will live within my care," feels feeble and impossible.
As Kyler and I sing the last few lines of the Confrontation, I realize what Varun has done. I had forgotten how ingeniously clever he can be. He has switched to a song
that will end just a few lines after ours finishes. It isn't long enough for us to start a new song, but it will give him time to strike.
As "I will be there," fades away, I feel Varun's energy concentrate on me. Kyler's hand leaves my back. I close my eyes and throw my arms over my head to avoid the impact.
"It's the feeling of Being Edward Hyde!"
The impact never comes. I open my eyes to see Kyler suspended in front of me, hanging from a noose of energy. He dangles in the air, both hands clutching at an invisible something wrapped around his throat. Varun and I both know that the only ways to free him are to distract Varun or for him to release Kyler of his own free will. I'm only grateful that Varun didn't have more time for his solo, otherwise a break in concentration could kill my partner.
Varun stands admiring his handiwork, one hand pensively stroking his chin. Without looking at me, he speaks. "This looks familiar, doesn't it?"
I can't answer, as fury has bound my jaws fast.
"Only this time it's Edward Hyde and not the Phantom who holds your love prisoner." He looks away from Kyler. "And you play yourself." He pauses a moment as his eyes roam over me. "But my proposal is still the same," his voice is soft and rough as his eyes find and hold mine. His face, half in shadow, is strangely handsome, and the eyes glittering out of the gloom are dark and full of a feverish warmth.
At that look, the seed of fear splits open and sends tendrils shooting up my chest. But another seed sprouts and blossoms, twining around the fear. I find I cannot give the second seed a specific name, but it is both terrifying and beautiful.
"Be mine, and he goes free," Varun continues, waving a careless hand at Kyler. "Refuse me," he takes a menacing step toward me, "and he dies."
As I look at him, I remember the first time I found myself caught in this situation. The shadow across half of his face reminds me of the Phantom's mask, and though the noose is invisible, I feel the threat just as strongly as I did then. In that moment, and all those that followed in its wake, I only managed to escape because of the script. The script…
I allow my eyes to fall into Varun's, ignoring the fear now wrapping my chest. I take a step towards him, then another, as I begin to sing.
"Pitiful creature of darkness
What kind of life have you known?
God give me courage to show you
You are not alone!"
I make no effort to catch him in my music. I merely sing, and walk until I am standing directly in front of him, gazing up at his dark, compelling eyes. I know what the script calls for next. I reach my hands up to his broad shoulders, as his find my waste. His touch sends tingles rippling through my body. A few strains of Dangerous Game dash through my mind. His head is descending, his long lashes fluttering down to cover his eyes. He pulls me towards him. His lips are a mere sigh away from mine.
I push down on his shoulders and shoot my knee up, hard, into his groin.
"Ououghghghe," he gasps, and his hands leave my waist. Behind me, I hear a loud thunk as Kyler drops to the floor.
I give myself a split second to enjoy my triumph. Then I launch into the song that I judge will cause Varun the most pain, Raoul and Christine's love vow.
"Say you love me every waking moment
Turn my head with talk of summertime…"
As I sing, I offer my hand to Kyler and help him to his feet. I finish my part standing next to him and concentrating on Varun. He is still doubled over, but looks up at me through his hair with a nasty snarl splitting his features and a vein throbbing in his forehead. Kyler takes over and jerks his hand toward the window. I take the hint.
I walk to the window and look out. There is the chief of police, and a small squad of policemen standing under the window. I knock on the glass. They look up. I wave. The chief waves back, and beckons to the others. The Director has, as always, disappeared.
I return to Kyler in time to pick up my part.
"All I want is freedom
A world with no more night.
And you always beside me
To hold me and to hide me…"
Kyler takes over again as the thumps and voices from downstairs indicate the police's advance. Varun has heard them, too. I can see him struggle, but the energy of our music holds him fast, trussed by musical bonds
"Anywhere you go let me go too
Christine – that's all I ask of you…"
I pour my whole heart into the next few lines. If Varun breaks free now, it could spell disaster not only for the police, but also for me and Kyler.
"Say you'll share with me One love, one lifetime
Say the word
and I will follow you…"
Kyler joins in just as the door flies fully open and the squad of police enters. Varun's eyes widen, and I can see him grit his teeth. I feel him pushing at our combined energy. I know he's strong enough to stand against us. Our only advantage is our current domination.
"Share each day with me
Each night, each morning
Love me –
That's all I ask of you."
The song ended, I turn to the police, who have handcuffed Varun. "You'd better gag him, too," I start, "he's a –"
But Varun cuts me off
"Damn you, you little prying Pandora!
You little demon -
is this what you wanted to see?
Curse you!
You little lying Delilah!
You little viper!
now you cannot ever be free!"
Varun sings with the crazed power of desperation, and within the first two notes, I feel myself fall under his spell. My body looses the ability of independent movement. My panicked brain struggles in vain to resist the raw power wrapping my limbs.
The police attempt to gag Varun, but a wild-eyed Kyler stops them. He knows as well as I do that once caught so deeply, a singer's victim will only escape when the singer releases his hold. At this point, a break in Varun's concentration could kill me.
Shock paints numbness through my limbs. I can't think. I can only stare at Varun through bleary eyes. His face softens, suddenly. "Manda, I love you," he sings, replacing my real name for my stage alias. I can feel the truth resonating in his song. I can also sense the fear fueling it. Amazement washes, tingling, through my already-numb body. My knees tremble, and I am vaguely aware of strong arms supporting me, of a sense of movement, with shifting patterns of light playing across my face.
Varun's eyes never leave mine. His expression is mulish, his eyes unreadable. Although the police have finally gagged him, his energy continues to hold me in thrall, stayed by the strength of his performance.
I feel a deep rumbling through my body, vibrating from the arms cradling me. Varun's eyes flick up, then back. His hold on me varies not one iota. Again, I feel the rumble. Varun shakes his head, his eyes steady. A sudden exhaustion shudders through me. I feel my eyes struggling to stay open. The rumble is louder this time, more insistent.
Varun sets his jaw stubbornly and shakes his head once more. He moves his jaw up and down. A brief rumble follows. A policeman unties the gag.
Varun's eyes finally leave mine. "You won't take her from me again," he says.
The rumble is emphatic, and I feel a slight jolt as the arms lift and drop.
"I'd rather see her dead for real than alive with you," Varun spits.
I feel another shudder, of weariness and terror tear through me. My eyes flutter wildly, showing me crazy illusions of dappled fantasy. So he's trying to kill me, is all my frozen mind can muster. Another pang of dizzying exhaustion hits, and I find I don't care. Oh, to sleep!
"Your time is limited," warns Varun, "make your choice."
The rumble is softer now, but it jars my bones.
"Either watch her die, or swear a singer's oath never to work with her again."
Varun retreats in my sight slightly, and my body bounces like a limp doll's.
"I won't hesitate to kill her," says Varun. An intense pain hits me and I feel my limbs jerk as Varun continues to speak. My eyelids droop almost completely shut.
The rumble vibrates once more through my body. I am descending, lying on the floor. It is so comfortable. All I want to do is close my eyes. A policeman reluctantly undoes Varun's chains.
Varun moves to stand over to me. He clasps hands with someone out of my line of vision. I hear the distant notes of the singer's vow – the most binding oath any singer can take – and a rush of freedom fills my body. With a sigh, I close my eyes and the velvet cloak of sleep encloses me in its welcome folds.