Chapter Two

"I pretend to be somebody I wanted to be until finally I became that person or he became me" –Cary Grant

Desiree arrived at Midhoff Theater, home of the Off Broadway Opera Company, around nine in the morning. The theater was at the very edge of the Theater District of Lower Manhattan and it had taken her a bit longer on the subways to get there. She walked through the revolving door and saw immediately that the entire place was in extremely low light. She had to squint to see the men working on stage, and a row of singers lined up at a piano. She walked towards the main aisle when someone saw her and walked up t o her. A young man with brown hair and a suit and tie and asked her." Can I help you miss?"

Dessy glanced at the business card that her labor chief had given her. "Yes, I'm looking for a Mr. James Spangler."

The man gave her an odd look. "Are you here for the auditions?"

"Oh, no. I'm not a singer." Dessy confessed laughing. "I was hired to help backstage. I'm the laborer."

The man clasped his hands together. "Well that makes a difference. Mr. Spangler is the gentleman in the gray coat in the second row."

She nodded to him. "Thank you, sir." She walked down the aisle where she saw two men seated, watching the singers on stage, one in a white shirt and scarf and the other with a gray coat. She sat behind them, waiting for the singers to break before she introduced herself. The man in the scarf turned his eyes and saw her out of the corner of his eye, then nudged the other who turned to face her.

"Yes miss." He inquired

"Oh, I didn't mean to disturb you, I was." Desiree stammered and pointed to the stage, indicating that she was waiting for the singers to finish.

"Never mind them, I wasn't listening anyway." The man laughed.

"Mr. Spangler I assume. I'm Desiree, from the labor union." She reached out her hand.

He shook it. "Yes I'm Jim Spangler. I spoke with your foreman on Tuesday. He said you're a good worker."

"He forgot to mention hard and fast. I did some theater work in high school and a little in college, so I know the ropes." She handed him her employment papers.

He stood up and walked to the back of the theater and she followed him. He looked over her papers. "Where did you go to school at?"

"Just a small community college in Jersey. Only took a few classes, elective stuff really. I'm just working to get more money to go back and finish."

After examining all her papers, Spangler handed them back to her. "Well everything seem to be in order. What we would be having you do is working on set construction for our new show, and then we'll have you work backstage during the production. God knows we always need an extra set of hands backstage. We also have some work for someone to clean up after hours, if you're interested?"

"Hey money is money." Dessy said.

"I'd take that as a yes."

"Yep. So when can I start."

Spangler looked back on the stage and then smiled. "Today, if you want. I got a couple of jobs that need to be done."

            Erik Deslter leaned back in his seat, looking over his score. He tired to block out the sound of the choir on stage as the butchered his music. Pity these were the best singers Spangler could find. The only reason some of the women were up there on the stage because Spangler had slept with them. God, he rather would listen to the stage hands pounding and hammering then the screeching sopranos attempting to sing his work.

Fortunately, "Illusion in Time" was not one of his master works, just another one of his many pieces, so it didn't wound his pride too much. He hadn't touched his real masterpiece, his Don Juan, in several years. In fact he hadn't worked on it since he had last seen Christine. He set down the score and took off his glasses. Even at the thought of her, his pulse rose, his hands trembled and his body ached. It had been almost 20 years since he saw her, but still she haunted his dreams, still she affected him. 20 years, that to him was like a blink of an eye. He could remember exactly how she looked back then. He wondered how much she had changed through the years while he hardly aged a day. He imagined she was still beautiful and just as stubborn as before. But no matter. He could wait, he reminded himself, and he could wait for a very long time.

He heard a loud noise behind him and turned to see Spangler and a couple other workers dragging a large box down the aisle.

"Sorry to disturb you boss, but we got the replacement seat for the broken chair in Row 2." Jim called.

Erik put his glasses back on and got up out of his seat. "Good, let's not waste any time getting it fixed."

"I'll get the new kid on it." Jim said, and then he called upward to the stage. "Hey Destler! Come down here, I got a job for you."

Erik was almost tempted to answer Spangle's call; until he remembered that here he did not go by that last name, not here. Was there now some one on the payroll with the same last name as him? He watched the stage to see some one climbing down on the ropes and Spangler walk towards them. Erik adjusted his glasses higher up on his nose to see that it was the same girl who sat behind them that morning.

"Hey Destler, I got a job for you. We need to put this chair in, but we need to rip out the old one first." Spangler felt up the girl's biceps, which Erik also noticed where larger than advantage for a female her size. "Do you think you can do it?"

"I'll give it a try sir." said the girl. She and Spangler walked down to the broken chair. Erik went over to watch. The old seat had big cracks in the wood framework too far. The girl looked at it then pulled a pair of safety goggles that were around her neck, and over her eyes. She grasped the armrest, and pulled. He watched her puzzled. Yes the girl had some muscle on her, but it would take several blows with axes or handsaws to even loosen the legs so they could break off. Yet she struggled against it as if it were no obstacle. He examined her efforts with detail her panting breath, the veins and muscles protruding through her arms, and not even breaking a sweat. She didn't show any sign of stopping.

Her efforts almost seemed inhuman.

Suddenly there was a loud crack as the back legs popped off. Bits of wood spattered into the air and Erik covered his eyes to avoid them. Amazing, he thought. She then tilted the chair towards her and shook it back and forth until she managed to screw off the top two legs.

"Wow, Dessy!" Exclaimed Spangler. "That was great! Damn girl, you are strong." Jim turned to look at Erik. "See boss, isn't she good."

Erik fixed his scarf. "Yes, that was certainly impressive."

Jim patted the girl on the back and the two walked over to him. "Boss, I'd like you to meet our new laborer, Desiree Destler. Kid, this is the owner and producer of our theater, Mr. Foster."

As the two shook hands, they studied each other for a long moment. So, Erik mused, this was the girl who seemed to share a name with, this Desiree Destler. He looked her over now that they where closer. She was still a child. She had long hair that was half-straight, half-wavy and that changed color in the light. One way it looked the color of fine brandy, the next, a shade of cooper. Her eyes were dark brown and very wide. Except for the slightly masculine looking forehead and long neck, she was very beautiful. But it was the way her lips parted and almost trembled and her shy naive glances up at him that reminded Erik of someone.

In fact this girl looked a lot like his love, his angel, his…Christine.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Foster." she said breaking the silence between them.

        "Pleasures all mine Miss Destler was it?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "I can tell by your accent, you're a New Yorker, but that name, it doesn't sound American. In fact it doesn't sound common at all."

She raised her hands under her chin, shyly like prey hiding from a stalking predator. He could tell she was quite uncomfortable around him. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know much about that sir." She turned the look behind her. "I think I have to get back to work. Again it was nice to meet you." She then walked away, very hurried.

Erik allowed himself a chuckle. Indeed, this girl was afraid of him, he could tell. Even though she tired to shake hand with a firm grip, proving her strength, but her hand had quivered so violently in his grasp. But he admired her courage in attempt to mask her true emotion from him. Returning to his work he made a new resolution. Christine could wait, for they both had forever, but now he wanted to learn everything he could about Desiree Destler.