Erik - Chapter 24

"Madama Butterfly!" I exclaimed.

Michel then spoke up and said, "It's a tradition around here to do songs from the upcoming opera season.  Next seasons we're doing 'Madama Butterfly', 'Romeo et Juliet', and 'Carmen'."  He then turned to his daughter and said, "And I still say there's no need to replace the costumes just yet, even if Carlotta gains more weight during her vacation!  Those costumes will do just fine for one more season.  Besides, don't you remember what Hauptmann and Giry told us?  We can't be spending money we don't have on costumes we don't need!"  Just then, I looked over at my worktable and saw a large bouquet of flowers sitting tight in the middle of the table.  Seeing that I was distracted, Michel added, "Oh, yes!  In our excitement, Jacqueline forgot to tell you about those."
I walked over to my worktable and saw that they were long-stemmed red roses.  "Oh, Lord!  Who sent these?" I exclaimed.

"Why, don't you know?" Jacqueline asked coyly.

Michel said teasingly, "Our Roberta's getting to be quite the croquette!"

Ignoring his remark, I noticed that there was a note attached to the flowers.  I pulled it from them and read it.  As I was doing so, Jacqueline said teasingly, "I'll bet this'll make your boyfriend jealous!"

I lowered the note a little, and looking at her over the note, I exclaimed, "No, it won't!"  Then, taking the note and the vase with the flowers still in it, I walked over to the trash can by the door and threw everything into it.

"Roberta!" exclaimed a shocked Jacqueline.

Turning to her, I said in as even a tone of voice I could manage, "I've spent all week fighting Carlos off and if he doesn't get the message by now, he's really dense!  Mi corazon, my foot!  Knowing his type, he's probably got a girl in every port!"

Smiling in amazement at my outburst, Michel asked, "Now will you come back to us?"

"After the gala, I promise.  Especially if Carlos is still with the company!" I replied, and then added, "Got anything else for me to do today?  I need to get my mind off this!"

Michel smiled and said, "There's lots of laundry to do.  We got behind this week.  If you don't mind spending the day in the laundry room, that is."

I shook my head and said, "In the mood I'm in right now, the fewer people I see, the better!"

Later on that day, as I was finishing up the last of the laundry in the laundry room, Erik quietly came into the room and asked, "Are you feeling better today?"
Looking up from my ironing, I replied, "Well, I was until I got to work this morning."
I could see the concern in his eyes when he asked, "What happened?"
Unsure how to answer him, I hesitated a moment and then said, "Carlos sent me a big bouquet of roses."

Erik breathed in sharply and then said, "Indeed!  This is getting serious!"

"Was!" I replied sharply.  Then seeing that he seemed puzzled, I added quietly, "Was.  It was getting serious.  I squelched that idea when I threw the roses away."

Erik's jaw dropped and then after a moment of silence, he exclaimed, "You did what?  He must have spent a fortune of those!  He will not be pleased!"

"Well, let him get mad then, I don't care!  It serves him right!  I've spent all week resisting his advances and I'm tired of playing games!  I'm not interested in getting involved with him and that's that!" I exclaimed.

Our roles were reversed for a change. Normally, it was Erik who would get angry and I would have to placate him.  This time, I was the one who was upset and Erik found himself trying to calm me down.  "My dear, do you think it wise to do this?  I fear that you may make this Carlos retaliate in a way that you don't want him to.  Believe me, and I speak from bitter experience-it's not wise to treat a man like him in this manner!"

Calming down now, I replied more quietly, "I suppose you're right, but I've tried everything I can think of to discourage him.  That man simply won't take 'no' for an answer!  And you're right, of course.  Men like him tend to take their revenge, subtly of course, but revenge none the less.  If he says anything, I'll just tell him the truth-I've been hurt before and I won't get hurt again!"

"That's better!" Erik said, and finally smiled.  Then he added, "By the way, I took the liberty of making an appointment for you with Mme. Renard, the lawyer I told you about last night."

"Renard?  Somehow that seems appropriate!" I exclaimed softly.  You see, dear readers, the word "renard" is French for "fox", an animal known for its craftiness, and I felt it was only just that a lawyer should bear the name of such an animal.

"Don't make jokes about her name, Roberta!  She's a good person as well as a good lawyer, as you'll discover Saturday morning," Erik said stiffly.

"Saturday?  That's tomorrow!" I exclaimed.

Erik nodded and then said, "I realize that but that was the soonest I could get an appointment for you.  I assume that you need to get started against your former husband as soon as possible."
I sighed and said, "Yes, I do-and the sooner, the better.  I have a hunch that I'm being used and it's got to stop.  Do you have her address and the time of the appointment?"

"It just so happens that I have her card right here with me and it has what you need written on it," Erik replied as he handed me both her card and a sheet of paper with the directions to her office written on it in his own masculine handwriting.

"Thank you," I said softly, after I took the card and directions from him, and then added, "Oh!  Look at the time!  I've got to go home and eat and then come back for rehearsals!  I feel like I practically live here, I spend so much time working here!  Do you ever get that feeling?"

Erik chuckled and said, "This place seems to grow on you after awhile, doesn't it?  Yes, I often feel that the opera house is my home away from home."  Seeing the look of amazement on my face, he added, "You may think I'm kidding but this place does have a homey feel to it.  After you've been here a little longer, you'll agree!"

The rehearsal that night went a little better musically speaking.  The music director managed to get the chorus to sound better as a whole, which was good because the gala performance was barely a week away.  Socially speaking, however, rehearsal was a disaster!  Word had gotten around as to the fate of Carlos' flowers, and as for Carlos himself, he was extremely cold towards me, which  I really did not mind one bit.  Serves him right!  I can see sending roses after a night on the town, but before a date?  Besides, I thought I was pretty clear about where I stood with him! I thought to myself as we took a short break during the rehearsal.  Seeing a chair in the corner of the stage, I quickly went over to it and sat down to relax.  Boy, that feels good to sit down!  My legs and back just aren't used to all that standing! I thought as I leaned back in the chair.  "Is that how you treat all gifts-with contempt?" Carlos angrily demanded as he came up to me.

Sitting up, I replied, "Is it your habit, monsieur, to send red roses to women you hardly know?"
"What's the matter with you?  Is it a crime to show interest in a lovely woman like you?" he asked, sounding hurt as well as angry.

"Carlos, I have my reasons!  If you'll just give me a chance to explain..."I started to say.
"Screw it!" Carlos said sharply, cutting me off, and then, he coldly added, "You'll pay for this, I promise you!"  He then stomped off, leaving me alone.  For the next few minutes, I struggled with my thoughts.  On the one hand, I was glad Carlos would no longer bother me but on the other hand, I knew I had managed to make another enemy at the opera house, which is what I did not need at the moment.  Erik's warning came back to me as well.  I wonder what he did, and indeed, what exactly was done to him to make him warn me like he did.  For that matter, I wonder what Carlos has planned for me!  About that time, the music director called us back to finish the rehearsal and I found myself too busy to reflect on the evening's events.

The second half of that rehearsal did not go as well as the first half, for some of the chorus members were still unwilling or unable to read the music.  I hope these people learn the music real soon!  The gala is only a week away! I thought to myself as the director stopped the chorus once again at one of its trouble spots on "The Soldiers' Chorus"  "Okay, people!  Let's try again!"  Once again from the top!" the director called out.  We began again, only to reach the same trouble spot and make the same mistake again.  Finally, after several tries. We managed to get through the piece without any mistakes, but I could tell the music director was not happy with the chorus for, as he pointed out, we only had one week to get the production ready and, while the soloists were well-rehearsed, the chorus was not.  "People, we need to get more balance!  Altos!  I need more sound!
Sopranos-you're overpowering everybody else!  Keep it down so we can hear the other sections!  Okay, we did it once, so we can do it again!  From the top!"  And once more, we went through "The Soldiers' Chorus" without making any mistakes.  After we finished singing, the music director called out, "That's better, people!  But Altos-you need to sing out more!  Well, it's past ten already and it's time we called it a day!  I want everyone back here tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock, sharp!  We need to get this down and get it down soon, people!  See you tomorrow night!"
As we all started to get off the risers after the director's dismissal, I saw one of the sopranos nudge her companion and say softly, "Look who's back!"  I turned to see what she was looking at and inwardly groaned.  As if my day so far had not been bad enough, there was Carlotta talking to the director.  Oh, no! I thought to myself.

Then she turned a little to her right and squealed in delight. "Carlos!  How good to see you!  How's my favorite tenor?"  As the two hugged, it was obvious that they were old friends.  Where does she know him from? I wondered as I tried to sneak away from everyone.  Unfortunately, Carlotta saw me and called out, "Roberta!  How is my little alto?" as she and Carlos came towards me.  Oh, brother! I thought to myself as she reached me and gave me a hug.  "Have you met Carlos, cherie?  He has the most wonderful voice!"

I nodded weakly and replied, "Yes, we met at auditions.  And yes, he does have a nice voice."
"Is that all you can say, Roberta?  He not only has a nice voice, he has a marvelous voice.  He's simply the best tenor I've ever had the pleasure of singing with!" she replied haughtily, and then turning to him, she said, "Carlos, you must tell me what you've been up to lately.  Let's talk over dinner, shall we?"  The two then walked arm in arm off the stage and out of the amphitheater.

"What was that all about?" Sophie asked as she came up to me as I stood by the stairs that led down to the costume rooms.

"Carlotta's back!" I exclaimed softly, hardly believing my bad luck.

"Isn't she the one who pitched such a fit when you auditioned?" she asked.
"The same!" I exclaimed.

"I'm surprised to see her back.  She seemed awfully determined to stay away!  I wonder why she came back?" the soprano asked, and then added, "The other girls and I are going for some coffee.

Want to join us?"

Still distracted by Carlotta's return, I merely shook my head and said, "I still have some mending to do in the costume room.  Some other time, maybe?"

She shook her head in amazement and exclaimed, "The rumors about you are true!  Jesus!  How do you manage two jobs in the place?  Well, don't work too hard!"  As she turned and left, I thought to myself, She's right!  I'm working too hard!  Those damned costumes will just have to wait until tomorrow!  As for Carlotta, I wonder what brought her back?

I met Erik in the costume room and as we made our was downstairs to the lake, he said, "A penny for your thought, my dear!"

I smiled  and replied, "Have I been that quiet?"

"Yes, you have!  What's wrong?  Is Carlos bothering you?" Erik asked.

"Yes, unfortunately, and so is Carlotta!  She's back!" I exclaimed softly, trying to keep bitterness out of my voice.

"Well, my dear, you were warned about Carlos, were you not?" Erik asked, and as we reached the lake, he added, "I do wonder, though, what brings Carlotta back.  She was pretty adamant when she left, that she wasn't coming back until the end of August."

"Yes, Erik, you warned me about Carlos.  But it gets even worse.  Carlos and Carlotta know each other and to make things worse still, Carlotta acted very friendly towards me and I know what that means!  More trouble from Carlotta!" I replied, as Erik helped me into the gondola.  Erik only remained silent as we made our way across the lake.

The next morning found me in the office of Mme. Renard.  When I opened the door to her law office, I was surprised to find an older woman seated at a large desk that had almost nothing on it except a nameplate, a legal pad and a pencil holder with several pens and pencils in it.  "Je m'excuse, mais je cherche Mme. Renard (excuse me but I'm looking for Mme. Renard)," I said as I cautiously entered the room.

The woman replied in English, "You've found her.  I'm Mme. Renard.  You must be Roberta Martin.  Erik told me about you.  What can I do for you?"  She immediately had put me at ease when she spoke English, so I quickly sat down in the chair in front of her desk  and told her of my situation.  After I finished, she replied, "Yes, I think I may be able to do something.  Tell me, do you pay the university directly or do you send the money to your daughter?"

"I send the money to my daughter.  I trust her!" I exclaimed, surprised that she would think my daughter dishonest.

"I'll make some inquiries.  In the meantime, I think you should start sending the money to the university.  That way, you'll have proof that you're meeting your end of the agreement.  Do you have any other concerns that you'd like to discuss?"  I shook my head and she added, "Roberta, I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice.  As you know, Le Pin has had a bill passed by the National Assembly that prohibits foreigners from working in France.  And to make matters worse, all unemployed foreigners are to be deported back to their countries of origin.  That might not be a problem for you except for one small matter.  I understand that the new American president is now putting her opponents in jail.  She already has imprisoned several hundred thousand dissenters and plans on imprisoning even more.  Painful though it is for you, I think you should seriously consider becoming a French citizen.  It will not only save your job but could conceivably save your freedom and possibly even your life!"

I sat back in my chair in shock.  Finally, I managed to ask, "When did...that...woman start jailing her opposition?"

Mme. Renard leaned forward a bit and replied, "She's been doing this for several months now.  It started after a few dissenters staged a rather ill-conceived and ill-timed demonstration in one of your western cities which, alas, got out of hand very quickly.  It now seems that your government won't tolerate violence, or, at it turns out, dissent, as well."

Still in shock, I could only exclaim softly, "My God!"

After an awkward moment of silence, Mme. Renard said softly, "It won't take me long to make my inquiries.  Thank God for E-mail!  If you'd like, I can have the information for you by Monday and I can have the citizenship papers drawn up for you as well."

"That will be fine," I replied in a distracted manner, for I was still in shock from the information Mme. Renard had given me.  The president has finally done it!  She's declared martial law from the sounds of it!  President Reagan called America "the shining city on a hill".  Some shining city we've become!  More like a cesspool!  Some choice I've got!  Give up my American citizenship or go to jail!  Oh, Daddy!  I'm so sorry!  You loved America so!  Now look what she's become!  I'm glad you never lived to see this day!  How disappointed you'd be!

"Very well, then.  I'll have all this for you on Monday.  When will you be by to get this paperwork signed?" she asked.

Forcing myself to concentrate on matters at hand, I replied softly, "I can come by during my lunch hour on Monday."  Then shaking my head, I added, "How much do I owe you for this consultation?"
"Only five hundred francs.  Erik paid half of my fee that I charge.  Normally I would charge for drawing up the citizenship papers as well but he explained your situation to me.  You are quite lucky to have him as a friend."

"Yes, he's very generous.  He also gets around a lot for someone in his position!" I remarked thoughtfully.

"Erik's always been a friendly fellow and doesn't let his...how shall I put it?...handicap...get in the way if he can help it.  Well, I'll have all of this ready for you by Monday and we'll see you then."

After I left the lawyer's office, I felt so depressed about her news from my homeland, that I decided to stop by Holy Family Church on my way to the opera house for what was hoped to be the last of the extra rehearsals that the music director had called.  Normally, whenever I enter God's house, I find myself in awe at the faith of the builders and I usually try to look around at the interior of the building to admire the workmanship.  But this time,  I was so upset about the turn of political events in my homeland that all I could do was to make my way to the prie-dieu located to the left of the tabernacle that was itself located behind the front altar of the church, and kneel on the hard wooden kneeler as much in despair as reverence.  Unfortunately, I found myself unable to pray as well, which was unusual for me in that I rarely find myself at a loss of words, especially whenever I am in the Real Presence of Christ Himself.  About the only things I could say to my Lord at that moment were Why?  Why are you letting my country suffer so? and Help me!  Help me decide what to do!  After a few minutes, I put my head down on my arms and began to cry.  I have no idea just how long I knelt there but I do know that I felt someone touching me on my right arm.  I looked up and saw Pavel Petrovic, my neighbor from upstairs standing next to me.

"What's wrong?  Can I do anything to help?" he asked in a kindly manner.

I shook my head and stopped crying long enough to say, "There really isn't anything you can do except to pray for me."

"Of course!  Is there anything specific I should pray for?" he asked.

I did not answer for a moment, for I was unsure of what to say.  I finally decided not to lit him know the full extent of my troubles, and answered his question by saying, "Please pray for my intentions."

"Yes, I will," he replied, and then added, "Are you going home now?"

I shook my head and said, "No.  I have to go back to the opera house for an afternoon rehearsal."
"You work at the opera house?  I didn't know that!  Have you ever heard of Tomislav Dubrovnik?  He used to sing there many years ago," Pavel replied as he helped me up from the prie-dieu.
I nodded my head, and after I genuflected in front of the Blessed Sacrament and turned to leave, I said very quietly so as not to disturb anyone who might have been praying, "I understand he was quite a singer in his day."

Pavel genuflected as well, and after we left the sanctuary, he made his way to the holy water font, and after dipping his hand in the large font and making the sign of the cross, he said sadly, "Yes, he was.  He was the best baritone ever to come out of Yugoslavia, but he left the country with his family when he was quite young and was raised here in France.  He made several recordings which were smuggled into Yugoslavia back in the days of Tito, and for a time, he was the pride of us Croats.  It's a shame he ended up like he did.  He had so much going for him."

"Yes, I heard about how good he was.  What a waste!  Well, I guess I'd better be going," I said as I, too, dipped my hand in the large font and then made the sign of the cross.  Then I added, "But, what brings you here to church on Saturday?"

"Oh, I'm helping my wife out with her housekeeping crew.  The church always gets cleaned on Saturday afternoon, and this week, they're short-handed," Pavel replied, and then added, "Normally I'm out driving my taxi at this time."

"Won't your boss mind that you're not at work?" I asked.

He shook his head and said, "I own my taxi and can set my own hours, so working here this afternoon isn't a problem!  Say, do you need a ride to the opera house.  Frankly, I could stand to get away for a while."

Shaking my head, I replied, "No.  Thanks anyway for asking, though.  I really need to have some time to myself to sort out my thoughts.  Well, I've got to go.  I'll see you later."  I then walked out of the front door of the church and went back to the opera house.