Chapter 13
Over the next month Poppy excelled in the chorus. She was deftly moved from the back chorus to front. Monsieur Reyer could not fault her manners nor determination to exceed. Here, they needed every dancer, so they were not picky. She has not been in any shows yet due to her...problem. But she and Madame Giry were working on it.
Her singing was great, though she never got solos. This was due to La Carlotta. The diva hated Poppy on sight. Of course Poppy didn't help. The first time that they met, they crossed words.
"You call this a Opera House?" Carlotta shrieked one day.
Poppy had been listening for Erik. It was due time he showed up. Over the past week, he had been neglecting his haunting. His oppression over Christine was unhealthy. He was making himself sick over her. Erik's progress in the "people skills" was going slowly. All he did was give Christine singing lessons, then hurry back to his lair, write more music for the ungrateful witch. Then pound out his distressed self, on the organ. Poppy would set back and wonder how good life was, for if she did what she felt like doing, life would indeed be very short. She snorted, annoyed and mumbled, "Of course it isn't, not with you squawking around here."
Carlotta heard her, being able to speak some English. "What did you say Rat?" She said in English.
Poppy sighed and turned to her, "I said, Of course it isn't, not with you squawking around here. It's an Opera house. Not a hen house."
Everyone gasped.
"You dare to say that to me?" Carlotta's voice rose higher.
Poppy winched at the sound. Her hearing was sensitive. Carlotta's voice cut though to the bone. "I dare."
Even though Poppy could not see her, she heard Carlotta walk up to her. She felt hot sour breath in her face.
Carlotta peered into Poppy's face. She took in the large smoked glasses. She snapped her head back, "This Rat is blind! A blind dancer? You put a blind dancer in the Ballet Coups?"
Before anyone could come to Poppy's defense, Poppy did it herself. " Yes, they did. And you must be blind yourself. I have been here for a whole month."
"So you think you know music? Know the song? You sing it then!" With that Carlotta grabbed Poppy's wrist and drug her to the front center. She then pushed her up in front of her. "Now. Sing."
"Signora! Please! You don't have to prove your point!" Stammered Reyer.
"Yes I do! This...Rat has to be broken." She turned to Poppy, "Sing! Now!" She screeched.
Poppy winched. This was not supposed to happen! Not like this! They were doing "Hannibal." Old for her, new for them. They were not to perform it for another 6 months. The piece was hard for them. She, of course knew the songs, and the whole opera, but they didn't. If she sung now, she'll mess everything...up. That's right. She wanted to mess it all up.
"Please Signora! She knows not the song, nor opera. She..." Reyer was interrupted when Poppy shook her head.
"Je le con…n…nais le chanson. Je..v...v..voulior essai" Poppy stuttered out in broken French.
Reyer was shocked. "Very well, Mademoiselle. You may try."
Poppy didn't understand a word he said, but when the orchestra started, she knew that he had agreed. The intro began, and she swallowed, and then began. Her voice cracked at the beginning, but grow stronger.
Think of me,
think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye.
Remember me once in a
while - please promise me you'll try.
When you find
that, once again, you long to take your heart back
and be free -
if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me ...
We never said
our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea - but if you
can still remember,
stop and think of me ...
Think of all
the things we've shared and seen -
don't think about the things,
which might have been ...
Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.
Recall those
days, look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll
never do - there will never be a day, when
I won't think of you
...
We never said
our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea - but please
promise me,
that sometimes, you will think of me!
XxX
Erik had been wondering around the flies when he heard Carlotta shriek. He groaned. He really needed to get rid of her. Christine's voice was almost ready to be shown. Just a few more months. Over the past week, Erik had been neglecting his haunting. His oppression to get Christine ready had been paying off. He was almost ready to drop a set on Carlotta when he heard Poppy. Poppy. He almost forgot about her at times. She tried several times to get him to take break from Christine. But he would hear nothing of it. Finally she gave up. Erik smiled slightly as he heard her berate Carlotta. Poppy was a great dancer. Even though she was blind, she had been moved up to front. She was exuding more then her bargain. He wasn't. For a minuet he felt almost...guilty. But then it passed. He watched a little while longer, and as he was fixing to leave, Erik heard something that made him stop.
"So you think you know music? Know the song? You sing it then! Now. Sing."
He looked back down and saw Carlotta drag and push Poppy to the front, in front of Reyer. Her sing operatic songs? He had heard more of her insufferable singing down in the lair. Her favorite seemed to be john-------. What ever that meant. He would yell at her to stop, but she'll go right back singing it. So, even though she annoyed him to no end and he enjoyed their arguments...he needed to see this. To see how she will ether pull it off, or get out of it.
He heard Poppy stutter in bad French "Je le con…n…nais le chanson. Je..v...v..voulior essai " His eyebrow rose.
She began singing the aria for Elissa; Think of Me. Erik smirked when he heard her voice crack. Right now, even, Christine was weak with the song. She can't make it past the second chorus, so Erik was curious, as how much she knows. If she even knows it.
She knew it. How, he did not know. The ballet rats did not practice new operas with the singers. So Poppy should not know it. And her voice! Granted it was not as good as Christine's but it held such promise. How had he missed it? She must have mean porously been singing badly. But why? He will find out tonight. He'll give Christine a break. Tonight he needed some answers.
XxX
Poppy finished the song. Her voice had cracked a few times, got a few notes wrong but she had done very well, if she did say so herself. And apparently she shocked everyone else. They were all quiet. Soon, she heard a lot of them clapping. Carlotta was embarrassed. She huffed and stormed off the stage.
Reyer clapped and before he could say anything, Poppy heard a new voice.
"So. Who is the new singer?"
"Monsieur Lefevre! Welcome back! How was your trip?"
"Marvelous! Now who is this charming young lady?"
Madame Giry stepped forward, "This is Poppy O'Cullen. She is in the Ballet Coups."
"Oh no she's not! She's going up with the singers!"
One of the snippy ballet rats smugly said," But Monsieur Lefevre, She can't. She's blind."
Poppy felt like killing her. But Madame Giry stepped forward. "Yes. It is true that she is blind, but she is a real hard worker, and knows a lot about this opera."
Monsieur Lefevre walked up to Poppy. "You are a hard worker? Well, we'll see. Monsieur Reyer? See to it she practices every day. Now I need to know. Were did you learn how to sing?"
Poppy was ready to answer when Madame Giry again stopped her,"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher."
Monsieur Lefevre was curious, "What's his name?"
Now doesn't this sound familiar? Poppy again was saved from answering when Madame Giry answered.
Ok, Ok. Stop. Story grinds to a halt. Now this is sounding familiar. Well, I guess from here on out it well be really screwy. Almost like the movie, but with big twists and time mess ups, and well.. Ah shit I don't know. All I know is that is going to get interesting. Moving ahead.
Poppy walked down the West hall. She was tired. Happy. Contented. Ecstatic. Pleased. Satisfied, and screwed. She really is messing everything up. She remembered what Christine had said.
"You have been getting lessons from The Angel of Music?"
Poppy was grumpy and mad that Christine had after all those years had never asked Erik his name. Even Angels have names. There's Gaberal, Michael, Abariel, Tarot and Lucifer...wait; better not compare Erik with that one. "No. I have been getting lessons from Erik," she snarled and headed to the West wing.
How is she going to tell Erik? She could wait? Yes. She'll wait and tell him latter...Poppy felt a leather glove cover her mouth and another across her stomach. She let out a muffled curse.
"You will tell me all that you know, and have been keeping from me. Tonight." Erik whispered in her ear.
