Matthew, still bent on playing his flute, was forced to find somewhere else to practice. Though he wished to still keep his dear hobby a secret from the world, finding another secretive rehearsal room proved to be a very difficult task. He was discovered one day, and had won himself a number of scrpes and bruises in embarassment, but his escape worked just the opposite as what he had planned. The man who discovered him helped him home, and introduced himself to his family (as well as telling them all about Matthew's amazing talent). When all was said and done, Matthew had managed to gain a new mentor.
His name was Messieur Stephen Napier, and he concerned himself with the art (especially that of music) of the day, and was suprised to learn that Matthew had kept his flute a secret for so long. Messieur Napier addressed that issue, and easily established that young Matthew must have had a wonderful ear. He would be pleased to provide Matthew with further tutoring.
Matthew's mother was at first very suprised, but very pleased, nonetheless, that Matthew had found himself such a fine man for a mentor. It was a great ease on his mother's mind to know he was taken care of, for she was beginning to grow old, and could not work as she once could. It was becoming harder for her to provide for his two younger sisters alone, much less Matthew (who was quickly growing into his teen-aged years).
Messieur Napier provided Matthew with a new flute which had better tuning and a steadier tone. Matthew, for musical purposes, was happy to accept the gift, but he never discarded his old flute, despite its apparent age. He was re-taught his scales and arpeggios, and was further conditioned in form and technique. It was hard work at the pace they had set, but Matthew worked as hard as he was pressed, and still manaaged to smile. Soon, he was learning various solos; sonatas, cantabiles, popular tunes, as well as classics of the day. Matthew took them all in stride, and even managed to memorize a few!
When Matthew could afford the time between his studies, he made a point to put his musicianship to good use. The songs he memorized (as well as tunes he was known to improvise) he would play on a street corner, or near the camp of travelling troupes to earn spare change. Most everything he made, he sent back to his family, for everything Matthew needed was provided for him by Messieur Napier.
On the eve of Matthew's seventeenth birthday, he recieved a notification of his sister Carmelynn's birth to a little baby boy, which he was thrilled to learn had been named after him. Matthew shared the news of his nephew's birth with his mentor, and they shared a drink in celebration, and a toast to blessings of fortune and good health. In such good spirits, Matthew eagerly shared stories of his and Carmelynn's escapades to Messieur Napier, including (with only slight hesitation) the tale of the ghosts of the Opera Populaire.
"Ghosts?..." Messieur Napier mused, a bit skeptically.
"The Player Piano, Messieur Napier, and the voice my dear sister heard, and the man who cried in the rain..." Matthew paused to remember how she sympathized with the unfortunate soul who sobbed for forgiveness.
"You should be more careful of what you say, Matthew, someone may think you are mad!"
"They were real, Messieur Napier!" With a grin, and a light laugh, he made an offer to his mentor, "I could introduce you, if you'd like."
"Dear Matthew, consider yourself fortunate that I enjoy ghost stories!" Messieur Napier laughed, as they toasted to happiness.
A few days later, Matthew and his mentor went to visit the abandoned Opera House. It was as dusty and quiet as usual, and it almost made Matthew feel bad that he hadn't visited it in so long.
"Messieur Napier, the Opera Populaire," Matthew introduced.
"Impressive," Messieur Napier mused, "It's a shame it's not used anymore. I wonder why?"
"Of anyone, I'm sure my dear sister Carmelynn would know! She loved this place like no one else could," Matthew laughed. "I have heard some of the stories, personally, in my childhood, but I can't remember them anymore..."
There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke.
"How about a tour, Matthew?"
"Certainly, Messieur!"
Matthew led him around the Opera house, telling him the stories of the ghosts. First, of course, of the voice they heard singing in the entryway, next, of the one on the stage which Matthew had not heard, and finally, of the player piano.
He told the whole story, about when he first found the room, and had found his little flute in it. He told about how he used to practice there every day, and finally, how one day, the piano played along on its own! He paused to stare at the dusty, web-covered piano. The sight of it made Matthew very sad, as if he had neglected an old friend, despite that it had scared him half-to-death as a child. Finally, he related to his mentor how the event involving this lonely piano had led to him being found.
Messieur Napier laughed. "Then, indeed, it was fortunate that you were scared."
Matthew nodded, though he was still enveloped by his thoughts.
"Matthew, do you remember the tune?" Messieur Napier asked, "Perhaps it will play again?"
"Unfortunately, I can't say I do..." Matthew replied, "It was improvised, you see. A childish game..."
Nonetheless, he raised the flute to his mouth, and began to play a few songs, stopping here and there to recognize and piece together a new melody from parts of ones he knew. However, the piano did not play. After about half an hour of this, Matthew lowered his flute, and shook his head.
"I can't seem to remember, Messieur."
"'Tis a shame..." Messieur Napier sighed, "I had hoped to see one of these ghosts you spoke of."
"Perhaps, if we could bring Carmelynn with us sometime?" Matthew thought aloud.
"It's worth a try, my friend," his mentor chimed, and began to laugh again, as they left the room. "Though, while we're here, it might prove entertaining to hold our lessons on the stage, hm?"
"Indeed!" Matthew replied brightly, as he led Messieur Napier to the stage once more.
The two men walked down the isle of the auditorium, every sound magnified tenfold by the great cavernous room. Matthew once again observed the bright colors about the room, now dampened by the thick layers of dust. He remembered when his sister used to bring him here, and they would play simple childish games on the stage; pretending they were performers or adoring fans.
"My dear Carmelynn used to dance on this stage..." Matthew told his mentor, smiling at the old days of his youth.
"It looks as if it hasn't seen the limelight in ages..." Messieur Napier observed as he took a seat in the audience.
"Go on, Matthew. To the stage with you!" He laughed whole-heartedly. Matthew did what he was told.
"Now, this should be a new experience for you... If you would start with a simple scale. B-flat Concert, if you would..."
The simplest scale. Every day, the repetition. 'Always good for the ears,' was Messieur Napier's justification. Matthew did not complain, however, but simply played it, but just as he had begun to play, he suddenly stopped. The resonance of such a place was indeed new to him, and he felt such a jump in his soul when he could hear the echo of his flute off of the arched ceiling and terraced walls. He was filled with a whole new love and respect for this house which drove such a fear into him as a child.
Messieur Napier laughed deeply at his student's reaction. "Go on, go on, take it all in."
Indeed he did; he breathed deep, and played the scale, closing his eyes to listen for the center of the sound, and to hear how it reacted to the vastness of the auditorium.
"Amazing..." was all he could say, when he was finished.
"Now, for a little fun... Young Matthew, if you would play your favorite Aria for me?"
"Surely!"