“How is Cincinnati?” Eva moved off the wings of the stage so she could talk freely.
“It’s actually been amazing, the people are really wonderful, I’ve been working hard, and there’s a guy.” Eva could hear the smile in Bridget’s voice.
“Of course there’s a guy,” Eva replied.
“And how is Ambrose?” Bridget asked with obvious intentions.
Eva turned and looked to the closed door that led back to the stage. “He’s just as talented as ever, but…well… there was something I wanted to—”
“—Oh shit,” Bridget interrupted her. “I have to run, I want to hear all about it! Call me when you get a chance. And just in case I don’t get to say it before Friday, break a leg!”
Eva hung up the phone and leaned back on the cold block wall behind her.
When rehearsals were over for the night Eva snuck out of the building as quickly as she could and took a taxi home. She could tell that Ambrose wanted to talk to her but Eva had nothing to say. She was still upset with him and the weight of her secret was pressing on her every moment of every day.
When she got up to her apartment, she locked the door and looked around. Because rehearsals had been running so long Eva hadn’t had a chance to clean up. Things were everywhere.
Now, Eva decided that the mess was too similar to the mess her mind was in. She needed a clean space if she was going to figure out how to have a clear mind.
She turned her mother’s record on, put her sheet music on the piano top, picked up and folded the blanket that had fallen to the floor. She’d had clean laundry that had been sitting in a pile waiting to be folded for two days and now she folded it, taking pleasure in the crisp lines and fresh laundry smell.
As she closed one of her dresser drawers there was a knock on the door.
Possibilities ran through her mind. Jerome, Ambrose, a courier with some new changes from Luciano…Eva tip toed out of her room and put her face up to the peep hole.
Ambrose was pacing in front of her door. She backed away from the vision of him and considered.
She could let him in, but if she did then what? It was the same thing over and over again. Her heart was too strongly his. He had too large of a hold over her. It was painful and a daily reminder that she had no hold over his heart.
She wasn’t ready to make a decision about all eternity. Not tonight.
Eva exhaled quietly. Ambrose knocked again.
“Eva, I can hear the music, I know you’re in there,” his voice came muffled through the door. She bit her lip. “You ran out too quickly, I…I wanted to talk to you.”
She lifted her hand to undo the lock then put it down again. No. No, she couldn’t keep doing this. She refused.
Eva stepped quietly back from the door and back into her room, where she closed herself in and eventually cried herself to sleep.
The next days passed by in a haze and flurry of activity. There was a cast dinner where Eva sat on one side of Luciano and Ambrose on the other. Tessa and the other females of the cast all seemed equally motivated to be around him at every moment and Eva didn’t fight for the privilege.
When Luciano finished his speech, one where he said one optimistic sentiment followed by another equally pessimistic one, Ambrose stood up.
“I would just like to say a few words…” Ambrose cleared his throat and Eva took a sip of the water in front of her.
“As we all know, Luciano is a genius, I have no doubt that after Friday anyone who has seen it will know that they’ve seen the greatest thing to grace the stage of all time. I have no doubt of its success and we certainly could not have done it without all of you…”
There was a general round of applause and self-congratulation.
“But there is another landmark event occurring on Friday night.” Ambrose dipped his head forward and paused for dramatic affect. “Friday will also be the debut of Eva St. Marie.” Heads swiveled to Eva and she quickly put her glass down as she nearly choked on her water. “The moment I heard Eva’s voice I knew she was destined for just such an opera. Lucretia would truly not be the wonder she is if it weren’t for her. I feel truly honored that I was here at the beginning.” Ambrose held up his glass, “To Eva St. Marie.”
“To Eva St. Marie,” everyone responded, also holding up glasses in salute. There were some applause and whistles and Eva felt her face burn hot under the scrutiny of a few of the more attractive women.
Ambrose sat back down and Luciano turned to Eva.
“I’ve never heard Ambrose talk about a voice or a woman like that,” Luciano said with a smile. “But don’t let it go to your head, or make you lazy. You are only as good as the work you put in.” He looked at her with a kind severity and Eva laughed a little.
“I’m not sure I warrant such nice sentiments.” Eva fidgeted in her seat.
“You must also own your true worth, to not know your talent is just as bad,” Luciano added.
“Thank you.” Eva glanced over to Glenda who was sitting across the table, wrapped in a heated debate with two singers.
“Luciano?” A question struck Eva’s mind. “How did you come up with the idea for the new opera? The storyline, the characters?”
Luciano sat back in his seat and looked around at the other people for a long moment before turning back to her.
“It is funny you should ask… it came to me in a dream. I dreamt of Ambrose as the Vampire King—big robust voice…natural enough, of course, but the strange thing is… I dreamt of your mother as Lucretia. At least, I thought it was your mother…until the day Ambrose brought you in to see me. Then I realized that it was you in my dream and not your mother at all.” He squinted his eyes and looked over Eva’s face. “Does that alarm you?”
Eva looked at Luciano then shook her head. “No.”
“It shouldn’t, sometimes…these things…they are…how do you say…destino…fate.”
Eva nodded, “Yes. Fate.”
When she got home from the dinner that night, Eva’s voice was gone.
Chapter Twelve
The next day was a full dress rehearsal before the opening only a few hours later. Luciano was in a crazed state, barking orders, stopping performances, giving notes that Eva had not expected to hear.
“Before tonight…I want to speak to you,” Ambrose spoke quietly to Eva as Luciano gave a torrent of notes to the conductor.
Eva didn’t respond, she had been jittery all day and the last thing she needed was a talk with Ambrose before the performance to shake her up.
“Eva.” He moved closer, his hand grazing the full silky skirts of her dress. “Please, I need to…”
“Again,” Luciano called from the base of the stage.
They sang all the way up to the moment when Lucretia declares that she is with child—that she is his and she asks him, in a shattering song, to bite her and bring her into his kingdom…making her and her voice eternal, making her his queen.
Just before the scene the stage went black.
“Mannaggia,” Luciano cried into the darkness.
“Eva,” Ambrose’s voice was close to her ear, she felt his touch in the darkness. “Eva, say you’ll speak to me. Say we can talk.”
Eva shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. How could she agree? Her heart wanted to, but she had to be stronger than her heart now.
In the darkness Eva pulled away, she walked across the stage as best she could and didn’t stop until she felt the chill of the side wall. She groped along the edges until she found her way to the back door and out into the hall.
Luciano broke the group early to work on getting the lights in the theatre back up. His Italian curses could be heard all through the building and probably out into the streets as well.
Eva felt desperate, locked in her own little world. Life was changing around her and she didn’t know what to do or where to go. Tears leaked out of her eyes unbidden and she didn’t seem to be able to control anything about her mind or heart.
As she chang
ed out of her gown she exhaled fully. This was supposed to be the best night of her life, the first night of her life, but she felt like the sky was falling on her and she couldn’t stand beneath the weight of it.
She ducked out of the theatre before Ambrose had time to find her. She went to a café and sat watching the clock. The hands seemed to be ticking down to her fate and Eva could only manage to feel a sense of apprehension and impending doom.
Eva took a tea to go, and headed back to her dressing room for hair, makeup, costumes, and to warm up her voice.
Just as she was finishing when Ambrose walked in without knocking and closed the door behind him.
“Ten minutes to places,” Came a voice through the sound system. Eva looked at the small, hanging speaker as if there might be some other message to see as well.
“We should get out there.” Eva moved forward but Ambrose blocked her way.
“Why won’t you talk with me?” Eva had never heard Ambrose’s voice so insistent and serious before.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Eva moved around him put her hand to the doorknob, but Ambrose pushed the door closed again.
“Did I say something? Is something wrong?” Ambrose’s face pulled into view. Eva wanted to reach out and touch it but she turned her eyes back to the door.
“We need to get to the stage.” She tried to harden her voice against him but her words just came out sounding sad and deflated. She moved his hand from the doorknob then opened the door and walked out. She began to move down the back hall where a costume mistress with a rack of clothes moved past her.
“Eva!” Ambrose took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days…I need to…I know that you probably—”
“—Ambrose.” She cut him off, stopping him midstream.
He looked over her face, his green shining eyes scouring the edges of her.
“I don’t want to be in the darkness…I’ve decided. I don’t want it. If I can’t have eternity with you, then I’d rather live a short life without music.” The words tumbled out of her. It hadn’t been part of her plan, but she didn’t even have a plan. Her only plan of action so far was to get through the run of the opera then to figure things out.
“Oh Eva.” His voice surprised her and she turned around again, determined to make it to the stage this time. “—Wait,” he called to her. “That’s it, that’s…I want you to come with me. To be with me.”
“No, Ambrose.” She whirled around, not worrying about her voice or who heard her. “I don’t want to be with you and five hundred other women. I’m not ok with that. I will never be ok with that. I just can’t…” She felt tears rise to her eyes and she turned again, trying to force them back down.
“Five minutes to places,” the voice came over the loud speaker.
Eva opened the door to the stage and stepped on.
“I don’t want any other women. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you—I want you. Only you,” Ambrose said the words into her ear. She turned in the half-lights of the stage. She looked over his face, she had to know if he was being serious.
Everything in his face told her that he was.
“Ambrose,” she whispered his name, “I’m pregnant.”
Ambrose froze. She waited, searching his face for the answer she needed.
A smile broadened across his features. “That’s wonderful! That’s…that’s the best news, the best thing you could have said.”
Eva felt a tear streak down her cheek.
“Places,” the stage manager said to the cast as he walked by.
Eva pushed her fingers across her cheek. She took a deep breath to reset, then moved out onto the stage.
When the curtains opened there was a new spark in her. Her body, her voice was alive. The night moved forward, she could feel the audience waiting on bated breath for the next revelation to come from their song.
Ambrose was like she’d never seen him before, as he moved across the stage she felt that he might take flight at any moment.
Had she heard him right? Had their conversation really happened? She wondered in brief spurts about her own sanity.
As her aria rose at the end of the first act there was gasp and a large, heavy sand bag began a hurried descent. Ambrose, who noticed the descending bag before she did, moved her out of the way just in time. The bag to fell right where Eva had been standing.
Eva looked to Ambrose who seemed even more shaken then she was. She looked to the spot then sang out her last notes and floated off stage.
Eva felt a tingle of apprehension. How was it that the bag had fallen just there? Why had the lights gone out earlier in the day? She felt her hands buzzing with a nervous tension but she pushed it from her mind.
The second act began with a slow build. Lucretia was in the flux of her decision and the Vampire King sang a range of big, powerful notes in his persuasions.
The opera continued with intense gusto. Eva’s voice met every demand and surpassed every note. She turned with a high note and saw a sea of faces before her. She could feel the collective breath, feel the energy so many people added to her own. Her voice dipped and on her next inhale there was a cracking sound from beneath her. Eva stepped back in time to see the trapped door give way beneath her.
What was happening? She looked at the square of darkness only two steps in front of her. Her eyes lifted, looking for Ambrose but suddenly there was a grip on her shoulders. It was the same absent grip she’d felt in the park, pushing her from the bridge. She felt herself being pushed toward the gaping hole in the floor. How far did it drop? And what was down there?
She reached out a wild hand and felt the chilly embrace of Ambrose standing across from her. He pulled her to him, up and over the hole. He held her in his arms as they sang their song. When Eva reached the wings of the stage she looked back to the gaping square in the floor.
“What the fuck is going on tonight?” The stage manager was talking to a stagehand next to him. “…Well go down and find out.”
Eva exhaled a shaky breath. She’d felt the hands on her shoulders, that hadn’t been in her imagination. What was it that Ambrose had said…when you lose your voice completely then you’ll really be in danger…
Was it even possible? She looked again.
“Eva…let’s go.” One of the women designated to help her into her costume change tugged on Eva’s arm.
“Of course,” Eva followed her into one of the side rooms. Two other women helped her undress through the intermission and get redressed into a two-layered gown. It was the most sumptuous material Eva had ever felt against her skin.
The amber colored gown flowed over her body in ripples. Eva tried to change as fast as possible so she could get back out and find Ambrose before the third act began.
As she pushed her way through the wings. A shiver ran up her spine.
“Something isn’t right,” she said as she saw Ambrose again.
“No, you aren’t safe.” he looked around the stage.
“What should I do?”
Ambrose ran a finger over her neck, “Are you ready?”
Eva felt the tingling sensation of his finger on her skin. Was she ready? Didn’t she need some time? To be sure he hadn’t just been saying what she wanted to hear? What if he changed his mind about her?
“Do you trust me?” He moved her face so she was looking into his eyes.
“Yes,” she said the word and she knew it was true. She loved him, she needed him, and she would trust him.
“Places, act three,” the stage manager yelled out in a terse voice. Eva might have thought that he was the one being stalked by dark, evil creatures.
Eva was prodded by two stagehands to get in a coffin on stage. She gotten into it at least twenty times in rehearsals for the beginning of act three but tonight the enclosed space took on a new meaning. She looked to the woman dressed all in black on her right. The woman smiled and offered her hand to hel
p Eva in. Eva calmed herself and stepped up and into the thick wooden coffin.
The third act began and Eva looked up at the dark wood in front of her face. There were air holes in the coffin and a bit of screen had been put in along the sides, so there would be light enough for Eva to see.
Her world suddenly felt small, crushingly small. She pushed her hands against the outer sides, bracing herself as she heaved a giant breath. She watched her chest rise and fall and listened to Ambrose’s voice just outside on the stage. His voice was what she needed.
At any moment he would walk over and open the lid to the coffin. In the opera Lucretia had been snooping, looking around the Vampire King’s castle and she’d hidden herself away in an old relic of a coffin. When Ambrose opened the coffin and exposed Eva it was meant to be a comical moment in the mostly serious opera. She waited and listened for the musical cues.
The cues came. The coffin didn’t open.
Eva braced herself again, trying to find comfort in the solid walls on either side of her. She watched her chest lift and lower. Still the lid remained closed.
There was a sound outside and she could hear Ambrose tugging on the lid. It was stuck.
She looked desperately around her, trying to see if the lid could have gotten stuck anywhere on the inside. Claustrophobia was beginning to crush in on her, make her frantic for release.
Eva beat on the lid. She felt the air leaving her lungs. There was no way to make it out of this alive, she should have known that, she should have guessed. Eva closed her eyes.
The coffin rocked from side to side and Eva screamed. There was a suspension of gravity then, with a thud, Eva hit the floor. The coffin burst open and Eva gasped as she crawled out.
The audience burst into laughter, they didn’t know that anything was supposed to be any different. Eva was rattled. Her hands were shaking and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air.
She sat on the stage as Ambrose bent down and put a hand to her face. He began to sing again and she watched as he winked at her.
Eva put a hand to her chest then to her face and she stood up with Ambrose’s hand on her arm, helping her.
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