So this brings me to 2006. Of all the things that have happened in my life, these two years - which I have carefully told you of - are the most precious. However, that doesn't mean I don't value the years following...
Until Frebruary, Sodapop and I had our rest time, knowing that I was going into my career with a new frame of mind... one that would probably make life quite hectic. And it did.
I later found out that one of the girls whom I auditioned with for Hair is famous now - Diane Keaton. She was in a movie not two years after I met her... I still don't know what would have happened if I had stayed through the auditions, but I never regret my choice to leave.
I finally chose my main focus - musicals. I kept up with my opera, and refused to let my voice get out of training... again. For the first two years - 1970 to 1972 - I bounced around as an understudy here and there for various productions : The Me Nobody Knows, Godspell, and The Two Gentlemen of Verona, just to name a few.
My big break came in 1973, when I got a part in the musical Grease. Sodapop and I both found the irony of the situation to be pretty funny.
I stayed with that one for two years, until I was twenty four. I had a few other offers for contracts in other shows, and it became apparent to Soda and I that we weren't settling down to a quiet, peaceful life any time soon... and Marie had already started school. It was a hard choice to make, but we ended up giving her grandparents full custody of her. She'd still live with us for the weeks that we were home, but for the most part, we didn't see her alot.
I had just started a part in Gypsy when I had the shock of my life - I found out that I was pregnant. My director wasn't a particularily understanding guy, and growled at me for getting myself knocked up. He didn't even apologize when I told him I was married, and I walked out on the part then and there, and left him to find another lead. He did - a girl named Angela Lansbury, who was twenty six years older than me, and would go on to achieve a Tony Award for the performance.
Well, I was out for the count then. We returned home to Tulsa, and Marie came to live with us until we left again. I think that show business is one of those rare businesses where you can't wait to get back into it once you're off of maternity leave, whereas other jobs might have pregnant women thanking their lucky stars that they're sitting at home, big as a house and sick as a dog, rather than at their desk all day. Not me.
We had a girl - a sister for Marie. She went on to grow the notorious curly hair that runs in my family, and that Marie coincidently has as well. People will always know these two are related, regardless that they won't know it's not by blood. However, our new daughter, Christine, had darker hair - almost black, a quality that I'm sure comes straight from my mother. Or Soda's father, so he claims. And she has the most interesting eyes - a complete mixture of mine and Soda's. They're mostly brown, but there's visably golden streaks and specks.
Marie was getting really pretty as well, with her curly blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She was seven when her sister was born, and Soda said that she was showing some of Sandy's more admirable qualities (Apparently she used to have some) which included an aura that drew people to her, making adults fuss over her and other kids want to play with her all the time.
And there I go, talking about my kids again. I'd do it all day if I could.
In 1977, we returned to New York with both Marie and Christine. We weren't originally going to bring Marie, instead allowing her to go to public school, but she insisted she come with us. It was easier to leave the first time, because she was younger, and used to living with her grandparents, but the second time, she'd just spent eight straight months with us, and we couldn't easily part with her again.
It was a big choice, but we sold our little house in Tulsa, and permanently moved to New York City. Marie attended a school there - it was private, prestigous, and a little stuck up, but Marie got along fine. Like I said, she draws people to her. Everyone liked her, and she liked everyone's attentions.
I was an understudy in the musical Shenandoah for the next little while, but eventually secured a role in a new Webber musical called Evita, where I comfortably stayed for a while. Sodapop got a job just out of the city, teaching kids to ride horses, and we got news from Tulsa that Ponyboy had gotten enagaged to his girlfriend of two years, whom we hadn't met yet. Her name was Charlotte, they told us, but upon returning home for a week for the wedding, I was shocked to see that it was my old friend Charlotte that I'd roomed with in London, at LAPA. She'd been equally surprised to see me.
Once we were back in New York, Sodapop had been staying at work one day, helping clean up the stables for a low-scale rodeo in two days, when one of the saddle-bronc riders fell off his horse. Soda later told me that the guy's technique had been so bad that it was a wonder he didn't fall off sooner. One of the other workers told the managers that Soda used to ride saddle-bronc, and they 'made' him take the guy's place. Personally, I don't think that there was half as much argument as he insists there was.
In any case, he continued to ride in rodeos after that, as he'd seemingly rekindled his love for them. I got a part in The Fiddler on the Roof, and then took a break. Things quieted down for a bit, and I cut myself off from Broadway, and all theatre in general, lest I be tempted to return. This went on until 1987. I was thirty six, Soda was thirty seven, Marie was nineteen and off at college, and Christine was eleven.
I remember thinking that I was ready to retire from performing and teach, as I'd done for a short time before and after my wedding, on that day when I went out to get my mail. There were only two letters, one from Ashley in Tulsa (her father had passed on from cancer) and the other from my long forgotten old friend - Mr. Whitby.
As soon as I saw his name, I remembered our bet - that if The Phantom of the Opera was made into an opera, he would audition, but if it were made into a musical, I would.
Well... I had heard talk of it being a smaller-scale musical by Ken Hill in Britain somewhere, and Mr. Whitby would never have sent me overseas to fufill a bet. I reckoned I was safe.
But, try as I did, I couldn't think if it was a large musical - I hadn't allowed myself to hear anything about musicals in the last few years, so I didn't know. The letter went as such.
To Mrs. Naomi Sterling-Curtis,
Congratulations on the wedding and child many, many years late. I've been traveling abroad, but that didn't stop me from hearing about your success on Broadway - and of your momentary retirement.
I've written to remind you of an old agreement we had many years ago, and to gloat over the words I'm about to say - I win.
The Phantom of the Opera is now a musical, debuting on Broadway in two weeks. Or one, depending on when you get my letter. The current leads from London are continuing their roles in New York (Leaving London to the mercy of others, I daresay) but I'll find you as soon as there's an opening.
Your friend and antagonist,
Mr. Percival Whitby
And find me he did.
I suppose I owe it to Mr. Whitby now, because it was, without a doubt, the best on-stage experience of my life.
I was a little bit older than the girl whom I replaced, but such a thing isn't noticable when you're onstage under lights with a wig and several pounds of makeup. I continued with this role on and off until 1995, when I left of my own choice. I currently hold the record, I believe, for the oldest woman to play that particular part. Auditions discreetly began again. I was being replaced by an unknown, they told me, and there was something about the way they said this that made me wonder.
On October 11, 1995, my forty fourth birthday, I was brought in to watch the performance of the newest lead in The Phantom of the Opera in the beautiful Majestic Theatre. I wasn't even allowed to have a program to see who had replaced me, which had me quite indignant in the time before the girl came out.
Once I saw her, however, all bitterness dissapeared. I was frozen, staring blankly at the stage. Sodapop squeezed my shoulder, and finally handed me a program. Christine, who was now ninteen and studying music here in New York, was laughing at my shock.
I flipped open the page to where the cast list was, just for the rush of pride when I saw her name, second on the cast list.
Marie Crawford Sterling Curtis
Three last names, from her mother, her father, and those who raised her in her early years.
My little girl - whom I fought so hard to keep - was onstage now, singing alongside David Gaines and Brad Little... I had never been so proud in my life.
Christine followed in my footsteps as well, and is currently holding down a spot in the musical RENT... however, she want to be the third in the family to lead in the Phantom of the Opera.
These days, Naomi Sterling-Curtis is a name that lots of people around here know. Sodapop came across his fair share of fame in the rodeos, but now we're retired and teaching our arts to children again.
My mother passed away in 1997, and my father the following year. I remember at my mother's funeral, clutching my father's hand desperately... I was sixteen years old again, and he was my daddy. He told me to look at her - she was at peace. She looked young again.
"She's gone to be with Bryan," he whispered, "Naomi... would you sing her a requiem?"
I smiled slightly, and wiped my eyes. We approached her casket together, everyone else having yet to arrive.
"What should you sing?"
"Something from Faust," I said decidedly, "It was her favorite opera. Those years when I was a teenager that we didn't get on so well - it was after I sang Faust that she began to forgive me."
I exhaled deeply, and looked upon the still face of my mother. Yes... she had gone to be with Bryan. All her life, she'd loved my father. She'd loved him as any wife would love a husband... but she was meant to be with Bryan. It's hard to think that your mother ever belonged with someone other than your father, but I knew it now. Mom and Bryan were meant for each other... but Bryan died, and mom wasn't capable of coping with things alone. And Dad was content to be her leaning post, to be there for a ghost that was long since gone.
She was at peace, finally.
I cleared my throat and began to sing...
"Anges purs, anges radieux
Portez mon âme au sein hes cieux!
Dieu juste, à toi je m'abandone!
Dieu bon, je suis à toi, pardonne!
Anges purs, anges radieux,
Portez mon âme au sein des cieux!…"
I let the notes trail off.
Holy Angel in Heaven blessed... my spirit longs with thee to rest...
My father died the next year.
I'm thinking about everyone that has helped me in my life, and how greatful I am for them.
Thank you, Sodapop. Thank you, Marie and Christine. And for Marie, thank you, Sandy. Thank you, Adam, for understanding, and Jon, for doing the same, and being there later.
Thank you, Ashley, and Hannah, Daphne, and Emilie.
Thank you, Shirley, for giving me back my music, and thank you, Ponyboy, and Two-Bit, and Darry.
Thank you, Grampy.
Thank you, Charlotte and Joanne, thank you, Star, thank you, Mom, and Dad. Thank you, Mr. Whitby.
And Thank you, Bryan.
I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore
If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before
But I have a talent, a wonderful thing
'cause everyone listens when I start to sing
I'm so grateful and proud
All I want is to sing it out loud
So I say
Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance, what are we?
So I say thank you for the music
For giving it to me
Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk
She says I began to sing long before I could talk
And I've often wondered, how did it all start?
Who found out that nothing can capture a heart
Like a melody can?
Well, whoever it was, I'm a fan
So I say
Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance, what are we?
So I say thank you for the music
For giving it to me
I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair
I wanna sing it out to everybody
What a joy, what a life, what a chance!
But most of all, thank you Steve...
... for dropping the book.
A/N::Tears:: All done. No more...
A few things to be said, firstly.
Diane Keaton, Angela Lansbury, David Gaines, and Brad Little were all mentioned in this chapter, all exist, and all played in the said roles.
I depicted Naomi to have been in The Phantom of the Opera between 1989 and 1995, but the real women who would have been playing the part (and their alternatives) are as follows:
Patti Cohenour, Dale Kristien, Rebecca Luker, Katherine Buffaloe, Karen Culliver, LuAnn Aronson, Tracy Shayne, and Laurie Gayle Stephenson.
During Marie's run, it would have been Tracy Shayne, Laurie Gayle Stephenson, Teri Bibb, Adrienne McEwen, Sandra Joseph, Sarah Pfisterer, and Lisa Vroman.
Alrighty, then. I'd also like to say that I ripped off the book 'Phantom' by Susan Kay in a few ways that you wouldn't catch if you hadn't read it and that you couldn't miss if you did read it.
Big props to all you reviewers for being frickin' awesome, I seriously read each and every review twice. I've been putting off saying this, sorta because I'm in denial, but I'm retiring from writing Outsiders fics. I'm moving on to another fandom, but leaving the Outsiders fics will be like leaving my comfort zone.
So, anyhoo, best of luck in all your future writing! It's been cool! I'll miss y'all.
Much Peace, Love, & Outsiders all around,
-J-