Author's Note: Phew! I'm rolling along here! Lol. I think that you'll enjoy this chapter. It's the one I know you've all been waiting for, and the one that I've been building all my other chapters up for. Yes, Peter and Wendy are finally being reunited! Do you know the plot of Madame Butterfly? I found that if it's twisted a bit, it could stand parallel to the situation between Peter and Wendy. And there will be actual scenes from Madame Butterfly, just an FYI. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.
Chapter 8: A Night at the Opera
Cinderella sat eagerly in her pumpkin carriage, wringing her gloved hands in her lap. Her flowing periwinkle dress cascaded elegantly down the seat, and the streetlamps' light continually came through the window and reflected off her dazzling jeweled necklace. She brushed a curl of hair away from her face and leaned towards the window, her eyes widening as she eyed her destination. There it was, standing in all it's might and glory—the Castle, where her prince charming was eagerly awaiting. The carriage came to a stop, and soon after, the door swung open. A gentlemen's hand appeared at the doorway, and Cinderella took it as she gracefully stepped out of the carriage in her glass slippers.
Certainly Wendy hadn't been riding in a pumpkin carriage, or going to a Castle to meet a prince, or even wearing glass slippers, but this Friday night, she couldn't help but feel like Cinderella. As she stepped out of the carriage with her parents, she stared in awe at the opera building before her, and all the regal-looking men and women surrounding it. She followed her parents through the crowd, Mr. Darling occasionally nodding or offering a nervous "hello" to a few people, until they were finally standing in the grand theatre of the Royal Opera House.
"Oh, Mother, it's absolutely stunning," Wendy whispered to her mother as her eyes gazed from the stylishly carpeted floor to the massively high ceiling.
"Isn't it?" Mrs. Darling insisted, gently squeezing her daughter's arm with enthusiasm.
"Our seats are there," Mr. Darling said, pointing to an area of the floor seating that was about ten rows back from the stage.
To Wendy's delight, their seats were right in the middle of the row. She sat down with her parents and watched as others slowly began to fill the theatre. Women in swollen dresses clung onto the arms of their spouses, and the men walked with their chests out like royalty. Everyone was dressed impressively, and Wendy smiled at the beauty of it all, almost as if she were star-struck.
William sat in the carriage with his arms crossed and with a wretched expression on his face. He avoided any eye contact with his parents, who were sitting in their finest clothes across from him, and instead, stared out of the window with melancholy. He still hadn't gotten over their whole confrontation at dinner a few nights ago, and didn't hope to make up with his parents any time soon.
William felt the carriage slow down, and he saw the Royal Opera House standing a few yards away. He sat up straight in his seat and brushed the lint from his coat, letting out a sigh.
"Tell me why you've brought me to this opera again?" William asked his parents with a nasty attitude that certainly would not have flown with Aunt Millicent.
"Because," Mr. Locke snapped back with an equally unpleasing tone of voice, "we've been specifically invited to the show, and it would have been rude for you to decline it."
The carriage door opened, and a gentleman held out his hand to Mrs. Locke to help her down.
"William, please leave the attitude behind when we walk through those doors," Mrs. Locke stipulated before taking the man's hand. "There will be very important people at this opera, and the last thing we need is for you to be ill-mannered in front of them."
Without another word, William followed his parents out of the carriage and among the host of people near the building's entrance. It took at least a half an hour for the Lockes to finally take their seats in one of the stately balconies, which were precisely reserved for the most honorable (and wealthiest) viewers. They were continually stopped by groups of people who wanted to chat, and of course, Mr. and Mrs. Locke could not give up the chance to socialize with their noble companions.
When they did finally settle into their seats, however, William gladly welcomed the comfort of his cushiony, velvet chair, and was pleased with the splendid view of the theatre. He sat idly in his seat and watched the people below scurry like ants into their places as a trumpet signaled that the show was soon to begin. Soon all seats were filled, but just as the curtains were opening and William was about to turn his attention away from the audience, a girl sitting several rows back from the stage caught his eye. He couldn't quite see her face from his angle, and he didn't know exactly why she was so noticeable to him, but he watched as she sat prettily in her chair, with her hands folded neatly in her lap, and as she slightly leaned forward in anticipation when the first scene began.
The curtain opened to a Japanese house, with its terrace and garden. A bay, harbor, and town were in the background. From a back room Goro, a marriage broker, led in Pinkerton, an American who just became the new master of the house.
William smiled as he continued watching the girl below and her evident fascination with the scene. He'd bet that it was her first time at an opera.
"The whole world over, on business and pleasure," Pinkerton said, "the Yankee travels all danger scorning. His anchor boldly he casts at random, until a sudden squall upsets his ship, then up go sails and rigging. And life is not worth living if he can't win the best and fairest of each country, and the heart of each maid."
William saw the girl smile and whisper to a middle-aged woman next to her, who nodded in agreement with whatever she might have said.
Sharpless, the American Consul, replied, "Your theory is an easy gospel which makes life very pleasant, but is fatal in the end."
"This quaint little girl seems to have stepped down straight from a screen," said Pinkerton, "and is so like her namesake the butterfly that a wild wish had seized me to rush after her, though in the quest her frail wings should be broken."
"Surely, love that is pure and true speaks like that," Sharpless insisted. "It were indeed sad pity to tear those dainty wings and perhaps torment a trusting heart."
William half-mindedly watched the show, but recurrently glanced down upon the girl, who seemed so captivated by the scenes being acted out before her.
"You are my Butterfly," Pinkerton told the young and fragile Japanese girl.
"They say in your country," Butterfly spoke, "if a butterfly is caught by a man, he'll pierce its heart with a needle and leave it to perish."
To William's surprise, the girl somehow seemed to have noticed that he was looking at her, for she momentarily peeled her eyes away from the stage and locked stares with him. She appeared to think nothing of it, however, and went on watching the performance.
"He promised to return with the roses," said Butterfly, "the warm and sunny season, when the red breasted robins are busy nesting."
In his mind, William hoped that she would look up at him again, so that he might get a better look at her face.
Pinkerton and Sharpless entered the doorway. Suzuki, Butterfly's maid, saw a lady in the garden and demanded, "Who's that?"
Sharpless replied simply, "His wife."
Butterfly entered, saw the woman, and clearly knew.
William saw the girl put her gloved hand to her cheek and slightly shake her head in disbelief.
A knife was heard falling. Butterfly emerged with a white veil around her neck, and struggled to make her way towards her child. Pinkerton was heard outside calling "Butterfly," the door was thrown open, and Pinkerton and Sharpless rushed in. The dying Butterfly pointed to the child and breathed her last.
William leaned forward in his chair. Was that a tear he saw streaming down the girl's cheek?
Sharpless took the child in his arms, Pinkerton fell to his knees, and the curtain descended.
After the performance, it was a custom that everyone congregated in the lower hall of the building for an "after-show" gathering, and Mr. Darling felt that it would be the perfect opportunity to socialize with the posh community, as Aunt Millicent had insisted. So the Darling family entered the hall, seemingly unnoticed, and almost immediately, Wendy could sense her father's uneasiness.
"Perhaps we should introduce ourselves to some people," Mrs. Darling encouraged her husband, was who staring about the room dazedly.
"Y-yes, let us introduce ourselves," Mr. Darling agreed, straightening his stance and fixing his coat.
Wendy watched admiringly with a smile as her mother softly kissed Mr. Darling's flushed cheek and whisper in his ear. This seemed to give him a bit more confidence, for a grin appeared on his face, and it looked as if he'd just let out a breath he had been holding upon entering the hall. Mrs. Darling wrapped her arm around Mr. Darling's own, and Wendy followed close behind as her parents made their way towards the nearest group of people.
"Madame Butterfly is just marvelous. Puccini successfully created an opera like no other, I must say."
"Yes, the simple plotline, the rich characterizations of Pinkerton and Butterfly—just outstanding."
"It's only sad that an English composer could not have written it. Florid and effeminate Italian airs are the only true method of operatic composition, it seems. The English style of composition is just too vigorous and bold for the times."
"Which is why much native talent gets overlooked and ignored. Surely we cannot compare to the composers of Italy and Germany."
William stood inertly by his parents as they mingled with their acquaintances. It was not surprising that the current discussion between his parents and their circle of colleagues did not captivate him, and after a while, his gaze began wandering about the crowded hall. He looked upon the people in the room uninterestedly, and amused himself with the thought that he would spot the girl he'd seen from the balcony. I'd have been better off staying home with Nicholas and the nanny," he thought to himself, letting out an imperceptible groan. Feeling quite on edge, he shifted his weight from one side to the other.
As William turned his attention back to his parents and their circle of friends, he noticed a gentleman lingering oddly behind the group. The man kept clearing his throat, and it was clear to William that the stranger was hoping someone within the group would take notice of him. When William looked to his parents and the others, however, it was evident that they had failed to do so.
William nudged Mr. Locke's arm, still eyeing the man curiously, and whispered, "Father, I think that man wants to join in on the conversation."
Mr. Locke, who had otherwise been absorbed in the discussion circulating within the group, followed his son's gaze to the strange gentleman. He furrowed his eyebrows at the man for a short time, but then politely called out to him.
"Good evening, sir," Mr. Locke spoke over the chatting in the group.
Mr. Locke's colleagues turned their attention on him with confusion for a moment, but then realized that he was greeting a man standing outside of the group.
"Oh, g-good evening," the man replied nervously, adjusting the spectacles over his piercing blue eyes.
A fair woman appeared by the side of the man, smiling gently at Mr. Locke and the rest of the group. William remembered seeing her from the balcony.
"Won't you join us?" Mr. Locke insisted after an uneasy silence.
The group opened their circle, making room for the man and his wife. They stared silently at the gentleman before them inquiringly, and Mrs. Locke raised an eyebrow at him when he ceased to introduce himself.
"I am Thomas Locke," Mr. Locke offered, seeing that no one else was going to make the effort of proper introductions. "May I introduce my wife Elizabeth, and my son William."
Mrs. Locke and William both nodded their heads politely without saying a word.
The rest of the group finally followed Mr. Locke's lead, and proceeded to introduce themselves to the unknown couple, although somewhat hesitantly.
"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," the man's wife spoke with poise. She smiled, and William noticed that she pinched her husband's side gently with encouragement.
"Oh! Yes, yes," the man responded with a tense chuckle. "I am George Darling. This is m-my wife Mary, and h-here is my daughter Wendy."
Mr. and Mrs. Darling parted from each other, and a sweet young lady appeared between them with a gracious smile and her white-gloved hands folded shyly in front of her.
And it is here that William was finally allowed a complete vision of the girl that had caught his eye. Wendy, he repeated in his mind, his lips discreetly shaping the sound of the name. Wendy… He saw her staring at him, and noticed the blush that was coming on to her cheeks. The left corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk, and the girl removed her stare from him to the floor. He did not know why, and he would never have admitted it, but the sight of this young lady made him feel as if he were short of breath, something he surely had not felt with any other. William looked at Wendy, and felt butterflies.
At this point, there are many holding their breath and crossing their fingers, hoping and wishing that somehow, a light will click between the two old-time companions. Even the stars watched them tonight, gleaming and calling to them in suspense. It is clear here, nonetheless, that William did not remember. He could not recognize her bright eyes, her soft honey hair, or even her rosy lips that had once affectionately touched his own. It was sad, but true.
And what of Wendy? One shall soon find out.
Alright, I'm spoiling you guys! I said I wouldn't be able to update for a long while, but I just had to give you this chapter. You lucky people you! But now, I really mean I can't update for probably a month. Lol. School is just taking over my life. Yuck. But, please don't forget to review! Thanks!