Erik - Chapter 21

     "Well, for right now, the best way you can repay me is by concentrating on the pieces you should be practicing on, speaking of which, here is another piece for your repertoire," Erik replied as he handed me several sheets of paper.  I looked at them and noticed that he had handed me a hand-written arrangement of "Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix" from Camille Saint-Saens' opera "Samson and Dahlia".  I must have frowned a little for Erik added, "Don't you like my arrangement?"

     I shook my head and replied, "It's not that.  I...guess I'm not sure if I'm ready for something like this.  Besides, aren't arias supposed to be sung with a full orchestra accompaniment?"

     "Perhaps when sung on stage it should be but for a soiree, it isn't necessary.  Let's give it a try-I'm anxious to hear how it sounds," Erik said as he turned back to the piano keyboard.  We began the piece at the tempo the original is to be sung, and after just a few bars, Erik stopped playing and said, "You really need to watch your breathing.  I know that this is slow but you must remember that it's a love song-a woman, even though she's a bad one, is singing to her lover.  Now, try again."  We started over, and after a few more bars, Erik said as he kept playing the accompaniment, "Hold that note out the full length...and...now take a quick breath, and...that's a little better."  He then stopped playing, turned his head towards me and said, "Let's stop here for a second.  This piece is why I wanted you to do those breathing exercises.  I do realize that they're boring almost to the point of tears but do you understand now why I gave them to you?  I also realize that this piece is more...shall I say challenging?  If you think this piece is bad, just wait until you see some of the things I have for you...when you're ready for them of course.  As for arias in general, this one is typical.  In fact, I don't know of even one that doesn't require a lot of breath control.  Now, let's take it from the top again."  We started over yet once again and when we got to the same place, Erik stopped playing and asked, "Have you been doing any breathing exercises?"  I shook my head and tried to say something but he cut me off by saying sternly, "We are going to end this morning's lesson right now and I want you to go downstairs to the costume room and watch yourself in the full-length mirror.  It's not even seven-twenty and I know no one is down there yet.  I'll join you in a few minutes and I'm going to demonstrate to you just how you should be doing these exercises.  Now, off with you!"

     Just as he promised, Erik met me in the costume room five minutes later.  Feeling foolish for taking time from my singing lesson, I stood silently in front of the mirror as he said in a commanding tone of voice, "O.K.  I want you to lay down in front of the mirror and watch yourself as you breathe.  Take a deep breath, and remember to let your chest and stomach rise and fall."  I did as he ordered, and he added, "That's how you need to breathe.  Let your diaphragm do the work.  Now, stand up."  I stood and he continued, "Stand up with your back and neck straight.  Good!  Now, do the same thing.  No, don't face the mirror.  Stand and look at yourself from the side."  I turned to my left and looked at my profile and tried to breathe from my lower abdomen.  Erik remained silent for a moment and watched me as I breathed slowly.  After a few minutes, he said, "That's it-don't let your shoulders rise.  Keep your arms at your side and keep breathing from your abdomen.  Feel how your waist seems to expand as you breathe in, and as you exhale, feel your stomach come in as you let the air out.  Now, I want you to take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds."  I took a deep breath as he took out his pocket watch and timed me.  After what seemed an eternity, he said, "O.K.  Let your breath out very slowly.  That's it."  As I emptied my lungs, he said, "Now, do it again.  Take a deep breath."  I took another breath as he added, "Now, hold it for five seconds and let it out slowly, as if you were letting air out of a tire."  I did as he asked and, as I exhaled, he said, "I want you to do this for five minutes every day."  Looking at his watch again, he added, "Our lesson for today is over.  I want you to do this exercise at least three times today for five minutes each time.  We will go over this tonight when I come to pick you up to take you home.  A bien tot."

     Work went well that day and for once, I actually felt I had accomplished something because the large pile of mending I had piled next to my sewing machine ;had become a small pile by seven that evening.  "It looks like you're at a good stopping point, Roberta.  Why don't you call it a day?" Michel said as he walked over to the coat tree to get his coat.

     "No, I think I'd like to stay and finish these pants I've got piled up here," I replied as I finished pinning the hem on yet another skirt Carlotta had managed to tear.

     "What's the matter?  We're not good enough for you now?" Jacqueline asked as she, too, went to get her coat.

     Used to her humor by now, I only smiled and said, "If I get these done tonight, I can spend tomorrow washing and ironing these costumes.  Won't that be fun!"

     Michel chuckled and then said, "That's our Roberta!"  Then, in a more serious tone of voice, he added, ""When you leave, make sure you get André to call a taxi for you.  I promised Buquet I'd take care of you."

     I looked up at him from my sewing and asked, "Are the ultra-nationalists at it again?"

     Michel nodded and said sourly, "Damned hooligans!  They're worse than the Neo-Nazis!  I thought with Le Pin in charge, those bastards would shut up!"  Then quieting down a bit himself, he added, "Well, at least we're not in a full-blown depression."

     "Oh, Papa!" Jacqueline exclaimed, as she rolled her eyes.

     "Don't 'oh, papa' me!  I still remember the stories your grandparents told me of the 'thirties.  Between the Depression, the anti-Semitism and La Val, It's a wonder France survived at all!  At any rate, Roberta, make sure you have André call a taxi for you.  Until tomorrow."

     I nodded and said, "Good night," as I returned to my work.

     It was about eight that evening and I had just finished the last of the mending when I heard Erik's voice say, "Why should you have André call a taxi when you have a guardian angel at your command?"  I jumped a little and then smiled at both Erik's little joke as well as my own behavior.  "Are you ready for a short lesson before I take you home?" he added, as I put the last of the mending into the laundry cart.

     I nodded and said, "Yes, just as soon as I get the laundry cart to the laundry room.  I might as well have everything ready to be washed tomorrow.  I've always wondered and I've been meaning to ask Michel why the opera company doesn't contract out the work, all this sewing and mending and the laundry especially."

     As we left the workroom, Erik replied softly, "I think the company has tried doing that several times but it has found it's more cost effective if they do that right on the premises.  But right now, I'm more concerned about seeing you rise in the ranks.  You're working much too hard for far too little, my dear!"

     "Tell me about it!  I was supposed to get a promotion and another raise but it doesn't look like I'm going to get either one," I replied, trying hard no to be bitter but not succeeding very well.

     Erik smiled and said, "That's what we're here for-to get you a better position.  Now, have you been practicing those breathing exercises?"

     I nodded and said, "I spent both my breaks and half my lunch hour doing those things!"

     "Good!  You may not see any difference right away, but you will eventually because, as you continue with them, you'll find that singing Saint-Saens will be less and less difficult," Erik said as he opened the door to what I began to think of as the servants' staircase.

     "I sure hope so!  I thought I'd never get through this morning's lesson!" I exclaimed as ascended the stairs.

     When we reached the music room, Erik switched the light on and as he walked over to the piano to lift the lid, he said, "Tonight's lesson won't start out nearly as badly as this morning's did.  We'll start this lesson with the usual warm-ups but then I want you to try my arrangement of La Marseillaise.  It's just a little less...difficult."  Erik was right about that for I spent the next half-hour singing scales first and then singing his arrangement of the French national anthem.

     "You're right!  That arrangement is less difficult!" I exclaimed as Erik finished playing the final chords of the music.

     He nodded and said, "The key of A-flat is much easier for you than the key of D, which is what ;most arrangements are written in, including the one that will be sung at the Gala.  However, since you'll be singing alto, that shouldn't be a problem, unless..." he paused for a moment, tilted his head to the left a little, looked at me out of the corner of his right eye and added, "...unless you want to sing tenor."

     Realizing that he was teasing, I said mischievously, "And give the director an excuse to say he's directing men and tenors?"

     Erik smiled and said, "You know me too well, Roberta!"  Then, changing his tone of voice a little, he added, "In all seriousness, I think the director will be pleased to hear you sing this arrangement.  It's a good key for you-not too high and not too low.  Since you'll be practicing this until the audition, I'd like to go back to Saint-Saens, and let's see if you can't hold those notes out a little longer this time."  And so, for the rest of that lesson, I struggled with that particular piece, trying hard to please Erik, for although I was used to speaking French by this time, I was not used to singing it as well and I found it difficult to remember both the phrasing as well as the pronunciation of the words.

     After what seemed an eternity, the lesson ended and, as Erik closed the piano, he said, "This was a productive lesson, don't you think?"

     I shook my head and replied, "No, I don't.  Outside of the warm-ups and the national anthem, I didn't seem to get much done."

     "I disagree with you, my dear.  You may not think you got much done but the progress of a lesson isn't measured in the number of pieces sung but how well each piece is sung."  I shook my head again and Erik added, "Saint-Saens is difficult and it will take awhile but already I noticed an improvement from this morning.  'Mon Coeur' will become progressively less difficult each time you practice, you'll see."

     I shook my head yet once more and said, "I only hope you're right.  How did you ever manage pieces like this when you were singing here at the opera house?"  Whenever I get overly-tired, I make more than my fair share of faux pas and this was no exception.  I immediately realized I had made a mistake mentioning Erik's past when I saw a shadow cross his face and his eyes turned black.

     For several moments, there was absolute silence relieved only by the hissing of steam coming from the radiator by the window.  Finally, Erik said coldly, "My dear, it's been a long day and I think it's high time I took you home.  Gather your things."  He then rose from the piano bench and walked over to the coat rack on the wall.  He got his jacket, handed me my coat, and motioned for me to leave the room.  After he turned off the light and closed the door behind us, he then reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small flashlight, switched it on and said softly, but just as coldly as before, "I may be put out with you but I refuse to be a heartless cad and make you go home by yourself.  I'll see you home, as always."

     As we made our way down the servants' staircase, I struggled with my thoughts and feelings.  Should I apologize or should I keep my mouth shut?  What can I say?  What do I say?  And what the hell did I say to set him off this time?  When we reached the costume room, I broke my silence and said, "Erik, I didn't mean..."

     He turned to me and said coldly, "Roberta, there is one thing that I want you to understand and that is this-my past here at the opera house is a closed subject, never to be brought up.  Is that understood."  His last sentence was a statement, not a question, which left no doubt about his feelings at that moment.

     I meekly nodded my head and then said, "Perhaps it would be better if I called a taxi."

     "My dear, if you really wish to anger me, all you need to do is call a taxi right now!  I said that I would see you home safely and I meant it!" Erik said, struggling to keep his voice even.  I said nothing, trying to keep from getting angry myself.  How dare he treat me this way?  What had I said to make him so angry and threatening?  After another moment of silence, Erik added in a gentler tone of voice, "My dear, we are both tired and I have no wish to quarrel.  Allow me to escort you home.  We can start afresh tomorrow."

     How do you do it, Erik?  How do you get me to do what you want? I asked myself.  Finally, I said, "I guess you're right.  It's been a long day for both of us.  I must be more tired than I thought."

     Erik nodded and said, "And as for me, I may have worked you a bit too hard tonight.  After a good night's sleep, you'll feel better tomorrow, as will I.  I'll take you home by our usual route.  I overheard Michel earlier this evening, and I couldn't agree with him more-the streets of Paris are no longer safe at night!"

     "Are they really that bad out there?" I asked, glad for the change in subject.

     Erik nodded his head again and said, "You probably haven't noticed anything because you're working so hard but I have.  You wouldn't believe the things I keep hearing on the streets!"  Then, changing his tone of voice a bit, he added, "Watch your step coming down these stairs.  Ever since Joseph died, the dust and grime have been accumulating on these stairs, making them slick to walk on, and the new managers don't seem to be anxious to hire a new janitor."

     "Why not?" I asked.

     Erik shrugged his shoulders as he took out his flashlight.  "I overheard the managers say that they couldn't afford to hire someone new right now.  What nonsense!  More than likely, the only people that they would be willing to hire are foreigners and they just don't want any more trouble with Carlotta!"  After he switched the flashlight on, he added, "Besides, I don't think they'll ever find anyone willing to work down here.  The opera house has a well-known reputation for being haunted, you know.  Of course we know that isn't true, don't we?" he asked, smiling mischievously.

     It was nice to see him smile for a change that evening and his smile changed my mood as well.  I smiled back and said, "If I believed that rumor, I wouldn't be working here.  Besides, would you have anything to do with that little rumor?"

     Acting as innocent as he could, he asked, "Who? Me?  Why would I wish to scare people off, especially much needed help?  I have nothing against foreigners because, technically, I'm one myself.  Besides, Carlotta does a fine job of chasing people out that she doesn't like, all by herself, as you well know.  Ah, Carlotta!  What would this place be without her?" Erik replied, still smiling as we walked over to the lake.

     "A nicer place to work at," I replied dryly.

     Erik chuckled as he took my hand and helped me into the gondola, and as he untied the rope that held the boat to the pillar, he said softly, "Out of the mouths of babes..."

     Erik spent the next couple of weeks giving me singing lessons twice a day.  This was not an easy time for either of us, for in spite of the truce he had declared, he seemed to find it difficult not to lose his temper with me.  As for me, I tried very hard to please him but I felt that in spite of all my efforts, I would never do so.  If I had thought Carlotta was hard to work with, O found Erik to be even more so.  Even the mere act of standing in the proper position or just trying to project my voice the way I needed to was much more difficult than I had ever imagined.  More than once, I found myself tempted to walk out of the upstairs practice room and never return but Erik always managed to prevent me from doing so.  At times, he was the most demanding person I had ever met outside of Carlotta, and at others, he was the most patient of teachers, coaxing me to imagine that my cheekbones were speakers and would project my voice through the very wall itself and go into the next room.

     All of this came to a climax a couple of nights before I was to audition for the chorus that the music director was assembling for the gala.  After doing my warm-ups in the practice room, Erik began to close the piano lid.  "Are we finished already?" I asked, surprised that the lesson was ending almost as soon as it had begun.

     Erik shook his head as he rose from the piano bench and said, "No, my dear, we have hardly begun.  We will continue this lesson on the stage."

     "The stage?" I asked, incredulously.  Surely I'm not ready for the stage, yet! I thought to myself.

     "Of course!  Where else would we go?  I want to see how you'll do on stage.  I especially want to make sure that you'll be ready for the audition the day after tomorrow.  Take your music and I'll meet you there is five minutes," Erik replied as he motioned for me to leave the room.

     I left the room, taking my music as he had asked, still puzzled as to why he would want to see me on stage.  Couldn't he tell in the practice room if I was sounding good or bad? I thought to myself as I made my way downstairs and then to the steps leading up to the stage from the dressing rooms.  As I opened up the curtain to go out onto the stage, I noticed Erik sitting in the center of the front row right in front of the orchestra pit.  "Do I start singing now?" I asked nervously, even though Erik was my only audience and had been ever since he started giving me lessons.

     "No, I want you to stand there for a moment.  Stand up straight but not stiff."  As I straightened up a bit more, Erik added, "No, you're too stiff!  Relax!  This is only a practice run for an audition to the gala chorus-not an audition for the leading role!  Try again!  Relax!"  As I tried to relax a little by taking a deep breath, Erik said, "That's a little better.  Now..."  He pushed a button on what looked like a television remote and from behind the curtain, I could hear a piano playing the opening chords to the French national anthem.  After I started singing the first words, Erik pushed another button and the piano stopped playing.  "Roberta, you're as stiff as a board!  Relax!  Relax!  This is only the chorus you're auditioning for!  Now, try again!"  And so it went for the next half hour.  I would sing a few notes and Erik would stop the piano and make me start over.  Finally, I was able to get through La Marseillaise completely from start to finish without Erik stopping the piano even once.  "Good!  Now, we'll try it again!" Erik said as he rose from his seat and began to walk back towards the main entrance into the amphitheater.  He stopped just before he reached the doors, turned around to face me and called out, "Now...again, please!"  He pointed his remote towards the stage and the piano began the familiar opening chords and I started to sing the anthem again.  He stopped the piano and called out, "Relax!  Don't stiffen up!  Relax!  Let that diaphragm do all the work!  And don't forget to sing from the heart!  The words may not mean much to you but they mean everything to the audience.  Now!  Again!"  And so, I began yet once again, and as I got to the halfway point, I noticed Erik was moving towards the doors as if to go out into the lobby.  "Keep singing!  Don't stop!" he called out as he went through the doors.  I did as he said, and a few minutes later, I saw him emerge from one of the theater boxes on the right side of the stage.  "Keep singing!" he called out , and as the final chords of the anthem were played by the piano, he said, "You need to project your voice more!  Let's go through this one more time!"  He pushed the button on the remote and the piano started playing again.  This time, I was able to get through the anthem completely without Erik interrupting, and after I finished singing, Erik left the box he had been in and in a few minutes, came back through the doors of the amphitheater and made his way back down to the front row.  As he stood in the aisle, he said, "I think that's enough for tonight.  We've been at this for over an hour and I know you're tired.  We'll skip tomorrow morning's lesson but tomorrow night, I want you here instead of the practice room, at the usual time.  We'll pick up where we left off.  Relax, Roberta!  You did quite well tonight but you must relax!  You're only auditioning for the chorus, not for a job as a cabaret singer!  You're supposed to be having fun!  Believe me, once you make it into the chorus, you'll be having so much fun, you'll wonder if you'll ever have time to sing!  You just wouldn't believe how many comedians the chorus has, and some of them are actually funny!" Erik said, trying to keep a straight face but with a twinkle in his eyes.

     "How do you know so much about the chorus?" I asked.

     "My dear, you wouldn't believe what I hear coming from the chorus as I do my rounds here at the opera house!" he replied and then added, "I'll meet you at the costume room in five minutes."

     When we met again in the costume room, Erik said, "You did quite well tonight but you still need to work on projecting your voice.  We'll work on that tomorrow night as well."

     "Erik, if all I'm trying to do is to sing for the gala, why are you making me work so hard?" I asked.

     He shrugged his shoulders again, and trying to sound casual, he said, "For just the gala, I probably shouldn't be so...picky, but I feel that you can do so much more!  In order to sing for the gala, the music director isn't so concerned about quality of singers as quantity of singers..  However, if you are to get a written invitation to audition for next season's chorus, you'll have to be more than just pretty good.  You'll have to be excellent, and that's why I'm driving you so hard.  I want you in next year's chorus!  It's the raise and promotion that you probably won't get if you stay in the costume department."

     I realized that he had a point there, but I still had one more objection to his plans.  "What about Carlotta?" I asked.

     "What she doesn't know won't hurt her!  You haven't told anyone that you're going to audition, have you?" he asked.  I shook my head, and he added, "Good!  I don't want you to tell anyone.  Just show up at the amphitheater the day after tomorrow at ten.  I want this to be a complete surprise for everybody-a pleasant one for most of the company and as for others...well, let's just say I want Carlotta to know she can't act the prima donna too much longer.  One of these days, someone who can sing better than she can will come along and put her in her place."

     "But, I thought you said I was a contralto!" I protested, not willing to believe that I could sing well at all, especially after the workout Erik had given me that evening.

     In a reassuring tone of voice, Erik replied, "You are, my dear, and while you can't hit the really high notes that she can, she can't sing the low notes that you can without actually speaking.  No, the sopranos don't have a monopoly on good singing.  I've heard many an alto who can sing just as well as any soprano.  Allow me to continue as your teacher, and together we'll show that witch a thing or two!  But for right now, let's get you home.  I want you to get as much rest as possible before our next lesson."  I only nodded and sighed.  Erik added, "I know I've been hard on you the last two weeks, but believe me, this will all pay off in the end.  You'll see."

     The next day at work was just like any other and I found myself anxiously awaiting my lesson that night, wondering if I would be able to project my voice as much as Erik wanted.  As I sat at my sewing machine, I must have stopped working because Jacqueline asked, "Is everything all right, Roberta?"

     Surprised at her question, I jumped a little in my chair and then replied, "Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

     "I just thought maybe there was something wrong because you stopped working,  Is everything all right at home?" she asked.

     "With the Fontaines?  Yes, everything is just fine," I responded.

     "What about with your kids?" she asked.

     I sighed and thought to myself, You would ask about them!  Finally, I said, "Who knows!  I haven't heard from either of them for almost ten months now!"

     "Ten months?  That's terrible!  How inconsiderate of them!" she exclaimed.

     I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Maybe.  It's probably my fault though.  I told them that if they couldn't refrain from badgering me for money, then they shouldn't write at all!"

     "I don't understand.  Why would they think you have money?" Jacqueline asked.

     "Because according to the divorce agreement, I have to pay college tuition for my daughter as well as my son when he goes to college.  Right now, my daughter's a student at the University of Maryland, and believe me, that school isn't cheap at all!" I replied.

     "Is that why you wanted Jean-Baptiste's job so badly?" she asked as she put her sewing down.

     I nodded and then said, "Now you know why I want a raise so badly, and if I don't get one soon, I'll have to ask my daughter to put herself through school.  I may do that anyway.  It's high time she learned to stand on her won two feet!"

     "Why don't you?  Papa does with me.  I have to pay him rest every month, the same as if I had my own apartment," she said as she returned to her sewing.

     "Because I have to go through a lawyer to do it, that's why!  I don't know about French lawyers but American lawyers like to drag their cases out in order to get more money.  Right now, it's cheaper for me to pay her tuition and scrape by like I've been doing," I replied, as I, too, returned to my sewing.

     Just then, Michel entered the room and said, "C'est l'heure!  Are you going to stay late again, Roberta?"  I nodded and he added, "Well, don't stay too late!  Now that the sun sets later, you might be able to get home before dark.  That way, you can avoid any trouble on the streets."

     "I'll do what I can.  Seems like all I'm doing is mending.  Will this ever end?" I asked.

     "Just ten more weeks, Roberta.  After the Gala, we get six weeks off, and you can forget you ever worked on these!  Alors, a bientot!" Michel replied as he took his jacket off the coat rack and motioned for Jacqueline to get hers.

     "A demain," I replied as I turned back to my sewing.

     At seven, I put my sewing down, got my things, closed up the room and went to the amphitheater where Erik was waiting.  "Sorry I'm late.  I wasn't watching the time," I said as I hurried down to the front row where he was seated.

     "That's all right.  I just got here a couple of minutes ago myself.  Are you ready to pick up where we left off last night?" Erik asked.  I nodded my head and he added, "Good!  There's a set of stairs next to the left wall that you can use to get on stage."  After he handed me my music, I went in the direction he was pointing and found the steps.  I ascended them and then walked to the center of the stage right where Erik wanted me to be, that is directly centered between the right and left sides of the stage, and directly between the closed curtains and the edge of the stage.  Erik took out his remote, pushed the button and motioned for me to start singing.  After I had sung a few bars, he rose from his seat and said, "Keep going," as he began to walk back up to the doors that led out of the amphitheater.  After a few moments, he re-emerged in box five and said, "That's it!  Keep going!"  I continued to sing the anthem and after I finished, I looked to him to see his reaction.  He stood there for a moment in the middle of the box, then nodded and said, "Not bad!  Let's try it again, only this time, sing from your heart!  Defending France from her enemies may not be your top priority but it is to the audience.  Now...from the top!"  He pointed his remote towards the stage and once again the piano began to play.

     As I finished singing the anthem for the second time, I again looked at Erik to get his reaction.  From where I was standing on the stage, all I could see was his long-sleeved black shirt and black pants and his white mask that covered the upper half of his face, the same one he always wore in fact.  But I could not see his eyes.  Is he pleased with me, or do I have to sing it again? I wondered as I stood on the stage.  After a moment of silence, he finally said, "That was better, but you're still too stiff!  Relax!  That will allow your diaphragm to work better and you won't be straining your vocal chords.  Now, once again from the top!"  He again pointed the remote and the piano played the opening chords to the anthem.  I sang the anthem again, and tried to remember to do everything Erik had told me, but it was very difficult.  I tried to stand up straight and yet not lock my knees.  I tried to relax and yet concentrate on breathing from my lower abdomen.  And above all, I tried to concentrate on the meaning of the words and sing from the heart.  If the reader thinks singing on stage is easy, he or she should think again for there are so many things that the singer has to think about when the singer is singing.  After I finished singing the anthem for the third time, I looked up at box five.  Erik was standing on the right side of the box right next to the curtains.  He slowly nodded his head and said, "Now, I think you're ready!"  He pulled out his pocket watch from his left front pocket of his pants and added, "My dear, I have kept you here for almost an hour and I think that may be long enough.  It's time I took you home but before I do, meet me down in the costume room in five minutes."

     Five minutes later, I found myself back downstairs in the costume room.  Erik was waiting for me, holding a long, wide, shallow box.  Seeing the look on my face, he said, "I took the liberty of getting you some decent clothes for your audition."  Handing me the box, he added, "Go ahead.  Open it."  Perplexed and a little irritated that he thought I would need new clothes, I started to protest but he cut me off by saying, "I really think you'll find these clothes to be most appealing. Go ahead and open the box."

     I took the box from him and placed it on the folding chair that he evidently had brought with him from another room.  I removed the lid and after placing it on the floor next to the chair, I saw a silver chain necklace mad up of three chains, the longest and thickest of which was probably no longer than twenty-four inches and the shortest ant thinnest no more than twenty-two inches in length along with a pair of shiny, round silver button earrings still on their card.  Underneath the jewelry was a pile of black clothes.  I looked at Erik.  Although his eyes betrayed no excitement, his voice did.  Speaking quietly but somewhat urgently, he said, "Hand me the jewelry so you can take the rest of the things out of the box."  I did as he asked, and removed first a long-sleeved black crepe de chine jewel-necked blouse and then a long broomstick pleated skirt mad of gauze-like cotton also in black.  Underneath these two pieces of clothing was a full slip made of black tricot and under that was a pair of black leather pumps, the heels of which were probably no higher than an inch.
"Erik, these are lovely but...I think I have something back at the Fontaines' that I could wear tomorrow," I said, trying not to sound insulted, for it was clear he had spent much time and trouble picking these items out.

     He shook his head and said, "From what I've seen you wear, you really don't have the kind of clothes you'll need for tomorrow.  You need to look chic but not overdressed.  Besides, black really is your color.  For tomorrow, wear your hair curled but down.  Pulling your hair back will make you look too severe for the occasion.  And above all...relax!  Act like singing for this audition is the most natural thing for you to do.  I know you'll do just fine.  And now, it's time to go home.  You're going to have a big day tomorrow!"

     I came in to work at about eight the next morning and had just finished hanging up the last of the mended and laundered costumes in the costume room when Jacqueline walked into the room.  "Dressed up again?  What's the occasion?  Don't tell me you're going in for another job interview somewhere!  You know how Papa feels about that!" she exclaimed.

     I only shrugged my shoulders and then, to change the subject, I asked, "Is your dad sure this is all the costumes I need to put away?  It seems like there should be more."

     "Let me see.  Oh, yes, I remember.  I've got some on my table that I was going to put in the laundry cart last night, but I forgot.  I'm sorry," she replied as she went into the workroom.  As I followed her into the room, she added, "Will that put a crimp in your plans for today?"

     I shook my head and said, "It shouldn't.  I can wash these this afternoon.  How many pieces do you have?"  As she handed them to me, I added, "That's all-only three?  Does your dad have any?"

     "I think he's got some, but he hasn't finished them yet," she replied.

     "I'll take these downstairs to the laundry room and after he's finished with his mending pile, I'll wash all the rest together with these this afternoon after I get back," I said as I turned to leave the room.

     "Back from where?" she asked.

     "I have an appointment at ten," I replied, trying hard not to say anything more, mindful of Erik's orders not to spoil his surprise.

     "Where?" she persisted.

     I shrugged my shoulders and said, "It's not far from here.  Why, with any luck, I may be back before lunch!" I replied as I left the room.

     I went down the stairs to the next level below to the laundry room and was putting the few pieces Jacqueline had given me into the laundry bin when I heard Erik ask, "Are you ready for your audition?"

     I jumped a little and exclaimed, "Oh, Erik!  You startled me!"  After a second of silence, I added, "I don't know whether to laugh or cry!"

     "Why?" he asked with concern in his voice.

     "For the laughter, I must seem so silly trying to avoid Jacqueline and her questions and as for the tears...I feel so nervous.  I know what you said about this audition not being too important, but it's my first one...my first audition!" I exclaimed, trying hard not to raise my voice above a whisper.
Erik put his hand on my left shoulder and said, "You'll do just fine!"

     "No I won't!  I got so rushed and nervous this morning that I left my music back at the Fontaines!" I replied sheepishly, for I had just remembered that I had left the music lying on my bed that morning.

     Nonplused, Erik replied, "That's why I'm here.  I thought you might do that, so I made an extra copy of your music and an extra copy of the piano accompaniment.  As he handed me the music, he added, "Now go quickly or you'll be late!"  I took the music he had just handed to me, quickly gave him a hug and then ran almost all the way back upstairs and to the amphitheater.