The next day, Uncle John took me back to the Opera. "Your name is on the list!" He said, sounding mildly surprised. I couldn't believe it! I knew I'd auditioned well, but I never thought they'd even consider me, let alone hire me. "Rehearsals start tomorrow for Faust," Uncle John said. Faust was my favorite opera, and now, I was being given the chance to perform in it! Aunt Kathryn was very happy for me when she found out, but still very concerned. "I can't help but worry about you Carolyn," she said.
"I know, but you really shouldn't. I can cook and clean and take care of myself. As for traveling, you know I pick up routes quickly."
"And I know you won't have trouble communicating with others," she said, "you speak French better than I do, and I've been studying it for years. I know I shouldn't worry dear, but I can't help it. You're like my daughter." "I understand," I said, "and I love you both very much. But I have to start living my own life."
"I know, and I won't stop you. We'll have to find you a place to live soon."
*****************************************************
I made a new friend the first day of rehearsal. I was sitting in the lobby during a break, when I heard someone walking towards me. "Hello," a voice said, "my name is Christine Daae." "Hello," I said smiling, "my name is Carolyn Ingraham." Christine sat down beside me. "I noticed you during rehearsal today. How do you do it?" She asked. "Do what?" I replied. "Well, how do you move around on stage?" she said. "Oh...It takes a lot of hard work," I replied. "You just amaze me. Not that I thought for a minute that you were incapable, but...you understand."
"Yes," I said smiling, "I do."
We talked on about France, singing, and anything else that came into our heads. "Where are you staying?" Christine asked after rehearsal. "Le hotel Blanc," I said, "but I'll only be there for a few weeks. I need to find another place to stay soon." "You could stay here," she suggested, "in one of the dressing rooms. It would be the easiest thing to do. Any business you might need to get to is within walking distance."
I talked the idea over with my Aunt and Uncle that night. "Wouldn't you like to live somewhere a little more spacious than a dressing room?" Uncle John asked. " Eventually," I said, "but for now, I think it would be perfect."
I moved into my room before they went back to America. They wanted to see me 'safely settled in' before departing. I loved them both, but I was glad when they finally left. Now, I could really begin to live.
I spent my first few weeks of freedom getting oriented to my new surroundings. Within a short time, I could travel anywhere I needed to go independently. My Aunt and Uncle wrote of their original concern, and of their relief that I was doing so well.
Christine was an immense help to me during my adjustment period. We quickly grew to share a sisterly bond, because of our similar personalities and interests. I told her of the sense of emptiness I sometimes felt having never known my parents, and of the gratitude I felt towards my Aunt and Uncle for caring for me so lovingly. She told me of the close relationship she had shared with her late father. "He promised me that he would send me the angel of music to guide me," she told me one day as we waited for her sweetheart, Raoul, "and he has Carolyn. My instructor is the Angel of Music." "Is he a real angel?" I asked. "No," she said a bit wistfully, "he's actually a very mysterious man, but I am sure that Father sent him to teach me."
"Where do you study with him?"
"He teaches me from behind my mirror. I know it sounds insane, but it's true. He knows every passage in this building. I have a sneaking suspicion that he is the infamous Opera Ghost."
"Opera Ghost?' I asked. "You mean Meg's never told you?" Christine asked. "She goes on so about him. I thought you knew the whole story by now."
"No, I don't know any of it." I said, "Please tell me."
"He lurks around in the shadows, only allowing people to catch a fleeting glimpse of him. He writes demanding notes to the management," she said. "What kinds of things of things does he demand?" I asked. "The reservation of Box Five for his exclusive use, twenty thousand Francs a month from the management, and anything else he desires." I felt a strange thrill of fear and excitement as Christine told her tale.
"What's he like?" I asked.
"He's very kind most of the time, but when he's angry, it's frightening at times."
"What's his name?"
"His name is Erik," she replied. "I'd like to meet this Erik," I said. "You can tonight," Christine said. "What does he look like?" I asked. "He's very tall and handsome, but he wears a mask over the right side of his face," Christine said, "and he won't tell me why." I was growing more curious about this man every minute.
Later that evening, I knocked on Christine's door. She was singing scales. "Come in Carolyn," she said. After finding a chair, I asked, "Is he here yet?" "No, he should be here soon," she replied. A few minutes later, a voice said, "Hello Christine and Carolyn." Somehow, I was not surprised that he knew my name. I can't even begin to describe the beauty of his voice. It had an otherworldly quality that was entrancing.
"Good evening Monsieur," I said faintly. "Please," he said kindly, "call me Erik."
After Christine had finished her lesson, Erik asked, "Carolyn, do you have a voice instructor here in Paris?" "No," I replied. "Would you be interested in studying with me? I heard your audition, and it was wonderful. You have so much potential." My heart fluttered within me. I wasn't used to that kind of flattering praise from a man. It had been a long time since any man had spoken to me so kindly. "Thank you Erik," I said blushing, "I'd be honored to study with you." "All right then," he said, "we'll begin tomorrow."
"I know, but you really shouldn't. I can cook and clean and take care of myself. As for traveling, you know I pick up routes quickly."
"And I know you won't have trouble communicating with others," she said, "you speak French better than I do, and I've been studying it for years. I know I shouldn't worry dear, but I can't help it. You're like my daughter." "I understand," I said, "and I love you both very much. But I have to start living my own life."
"I know, and I won't stop you. We'll have to find you a place to live soon."
*****************************************************
I made a new friend the first day of rehearsal. I was sitting in the lobby during a break, when I heard someone walking towards me. "Hello," a voice said, "my name is Christine Daae." "Hello," I said smiling, "my name is Carolyn Ingraham." Christine sat down beside me. "I noticed you during rehearsal today. How do you do it?" She asked. "Do what?" I replied. "Well, how do you move around on stage?" she said. "Oh...It takes a lot of hard work," I replied. "You just amaze me. Not that I thought for a minute that you were incapable, but...you understand."
"Yes," I said smiling, "I do."
We talked on about France, singing, and anything else that came into our heads. "Where are you staying?" Christine asked after rehearsal. "Le hotel Blanc," I said, "but I'll only be there for a few weeks. I need to find another place to stay soon." "You could stay here," she suggested, "in one of the dressing rooms. It would be the easiest thing to do. Any business you might need to get to is within walking distance."
I talked the idea over with my Aunt and Uncle that night. "Wouldn't you like to live somewhere a little more spacious than a dressing room?" Uncle John asked. " Eventually," I said, "but for now, I think it would be perfect."
I moved into my room before they went back to America. They wanted to see me 'safely settled in' before departing. I loved them both, but I was glad when they finally left. Now, I could really begin to live.
I spent my first few weeks of freedom getting oriented to my new surroundings. Within a short time, I could travel anywhere I needed to go independently. My Aunt and Uncle wrote of their original concern, and of their relief that I was doing so well.
Christine was an immense help to me during my adjustment period. We quickly grew to share a sisterly bond, because of our similar personalities and interests. I told her of the sense of emptiness I sometimes felt having never known my parents, and of the gratitude I felt towards my Aunt and Uncle for caring for me so lovingly. She told me of the close relationship she had shared with her late father. "He promised me that he would send me the angel of music to guide me," she told me one day as we waited for her sweetheart, Raoul, "and he has Carolyn. My instructor is the Angel of Music." "Is he a real angel?" I asked. "No," she said a bit wistfully, "he's actually a very mysterious man, but I am sure that Father sent him to teach me."
"Where do you study with him?"
"He teaches me from behind my mirror. I know it sounds insane, but it's true. He knows every passage in this building. I have a sneaking suspicion that he is the infamous Opera Ghost."
"Opera Ghost?' I asked. "You mean Meg's never told you?" Christine asked. "She goes on so about him. I thought you knew the whole story by now."
"No, I don't know any of it." I said, "Please tell me."
"He lurks around in the shadows, only allowing people to catch a fleeting glimpse of him. He writes demanding notes to the management," she said. "What kinds of things of things does he demand?" I asked. "The reservation of Box Five for his exclusive use, twenty thousand Francs a month from the management, and anything else he desires." I felt a strange thrill of fear and excitement as Christine told her tale.
"What's he like?" I asked.
"He's very kind most of the time, but when he's angry, it's frightening at times."
"What's his name?"
"His name is Erik," she replied. "I'd like to meet this Erik," I said. "You can tonight," Christine said. "What does he look like?" I asked. "He's very tall and handsome, but he wears a mask over the right side of his face," Christine said, "and he won't tell me why." I was growing more curious about this man every minute.
Later that evening, I knocked on Christine's door. She was singing scales. "Come in Carolyn," she said. After finding a chair, I asked, "Is he here yet?" "No, he should be here soon," she replied. A few minutes later, a voice said, "Hello Christine and Carolyn." Somehow, I was not surprised that he knew my name. I can't even begin to describe the beauty of his voice. It had an otherworldly quality that was entrancing.
"Good evening Monsieur," I said faintly. "Please," he said kindly, "call me Erik."
After Christine had finished her lesson, Erik asked, "Carolyn, do you have a voice instructor here in Paris?" "No," I replied. "Would you be interested in studying with me? I heard your audition, and it was wonderful. You have so much potential." My heart fluttered within me. I wasn't used to that kind of flattering praise from a man. It had been a long time since any man had spoken to me so kindly. "Thank you Erik," I said blushing, "I'd be honored to study with you." "All right then," he said, "we'll begin tomorrow."
