Eternal Melody (4 page)

Rebecca nodded in fervent agreement,
absorbed in Luke’s passion for music
.

Luke continued, “I came here from Wisconsin last year when they held the first round of auditions for the orchestra.  Now, we have lost some instrumentalists and there’s need to replace them.  Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes, but I’m not an instrumentalist, I’m a vocalist.  My brother, Ryan, and I have just arrived from Michigan in the nick of time it seems.”  From the moment she uttered
the name of her home state, Rebecca noted how Luke’s countenance became ever more intrigued.

“We are
both from the Midwest!
  If you and your brother are accepted into the orchestra, that will make a total of three Americans.”

“You mean to say that presently you’re the only American in the orchestra?” Rebecca asked, trying not to let her hopes get prematurely dashed by that unfavorable piece of information.

“Presently, yes.  Most of the orchestra members hail fr
om the continent…Poland, Serbia, Russia
and the like.  But don’t let that discourage you. 
But the
conductor is
American
.
His name is
Christopher Graysen, and he’s an exceptional man.  You’ll see when you meet him.  He should be here shortly.”

“Yes, Rya
n went in search of the
conductor or manager.  It seems this
hall is empty except for us.”  She observed innocently
,
and L
uke’s eyes glittered at the realization that they were alone in
the imposing Gothic building.  He couldn’t help but notice how wild her hair was and wondered if her disposition rivaled it.

Lowering her
lashes demurely, Rebecca asked,
“Do you play any other instruments?”

The mocking amusement returned to his exquisitely sculpted face as he replied, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I play first violin in the orchestra.  I just dabble in the piano.”

Rebecca’s blue eyes widened in amazement that the masterful performance he had just given was the result of “dabbling” in an instrument.  “You’re very modest.  I would have guessed that piano was your primary instrument and that you’ve been playing all your life.”

Inexplicably, Luke looked down
solemnly
, any trace of amusement obliterated from his features.  “No, I have not been playing all my life.  Music began as a hobby for me, but through various twists of fate, it has
morphed into
a profession. 
You
should know that the wages
for musicians, even vocalists,
are rather meager.  If you’ve come to Vienna with the desire to acquire fame and wealth, you might be disappointed.”

Rebecca was disheartened by the edge his voice had suddenly assumed and insulted by his suggestion that greed and vanity were motivating factors for her
coming to Vienna.

“On the contrary, Mr. Springwell, I have no such fanciful notions of striking it rich.  This is not the Gold Rush in California
, and I am well aware of the brutal reality of this business
. 
I have come to Vienna with a pure love for the art form of opera and
endeavor to share my gift of singing with people who appreciate music as much as I do.”

Her dignified rebuttal effectively silenced Luke
,
and his face maintained the grave shadow from earlier, leading Rebecca to wonder what he had been referring to when he confessed to not having played music all his life.  She was too tactful to ask him the question outright and
,
after the money-hungry slant he had attached to her career
aspirations
, she frankly didn’t care to know.

“You’ll have to pardon me, Miss Meadow.  In the past year, I have become accustomed to haughty divas who care nothing for music.  In truth, some of them secretly detest opera and refer to it as whining and screaming.  They merely covet the adoration that derives from a stage career along with a wardrobe of expensive gowns and bouquets of flowers bestowed upon them as the curtain goes down.”

Rebecca could not help but raise her tawny eyebrows at Luke’s depiction of these divas.  Although she would not admit it, the prospect of gowns and flowers was naturally attractive to a young woman as herself, who had existed in plain clothes from the cradle. 
The Meadow family
was by no means impoverished
, but they had a strict
frugal philosophy that required Rebecca to
don lackluster muslin dresses rather than the si
lk and taffeta gowns that were
e
n vogue
.

As for flowers, the only time she had ever
come close to receiving them
had been as
an eight year old girl
when Ryan picked a dandelion from the yard, shoved it in her face, and instructed her to smell it so her nose would turn yellow.  That
childish prank
hardly qualified as receiving flowers. 
Yes,
if forced to admit,
Rebecca did desire the whole glittering package that came with a career in opera
.
Still,
she had been sincere in expressing her foremost objective to share the gift of music with the world.
  Any pretty dresses or flowers would merely be a bonus.

Unaware of her thoughts, Luke proceeded, “I should have known by the way you reacted to that Beethoven number how dedicated you are to your craft.  Again, my apologies.” He looked at her ruefully through heavy-lidded eyes that narrowed to examine her face, now punctuated by an indignant upturned chin.

“Your apology is well taken, Mr. Springwell.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be getting back to my brother.  He probably thinks I’ve lost myself in this maze of a rehearsal hall.  It was a pleasure to have met y
ou.”

Rebecca gave another curts
y, this one more grandiose and proper than the first. 
Without uttering another word, she turned on her heel and left Luke Springwell staring after her gape-mouthed and speechless.

*****

Wandering
through
the curving hallways, Rebecca listened for the sound of voices that would indicate where her brother was.  The building contained such a surplus of rooms that she
had no idea where to begin. But
the sounds of Ryan’s
violin led
her forward like a trail of breadcrumbs.  Moments later, the solo ended and Rebecca could hear the applause of what sounded like a single pair of very enthusiastic hands.  She dodged forward into a large empty room, spying her brother placing his violin down on a table while an older, white-haired man looked at him with approbation.

“Young man, you are an extraordinary violinist.  There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a grand addition to our orchestra.” Rebecca detected the man’s American accent and surmised this to be the conductor, Christopher Graysen,
whom
Luke had mentioned.

Well into his sixties, the man wore a crisp tweed suit topped off with an oversize bowtie in a shade of powder blue that made his
periwinkle
eyes twinkle in the morning light.  He had a snowy beard that gave him the air of both wisdom and eccentricity, and Rebecca immediately decided that she liked him. 
In a certain way, his profile was reminiscent of her grandfather, Sanford Meadow, who had passed on a decade prior.

She hovered in the background, listening as he continued to praise a beaming Ryan.  “We already have a first violinist, whom you shall meet very shortly.  His name is Luke Springwell, and he’s also from the United States.”

Rebecca puckered her lips sourly at the mention of Luke, the
rude but compelling man
from whom she had just fled
.

“Now, you said you had a sister who would also like to audition, yes?  What instrument does she play?”

“She doesn’t play an instrument, Mr. Graysen.  She’s a marvelous singer in the mezzo soprano classification.”

Rebecca blushed and smiled to herself at Ryan’s description of her singing.

Christopher Graysen looked thoughtful for a moment and then frowned, shaking his head slowly.  “I’m afraid that won’t do.  We already have a
tremendous number
of young ladies who have auditioned for singing roles
.
I’ve
hired enough for all the operas we’ll be performing this season.  Even the bit parts have been filled. 
Surely you
are aware that this is the last day for auditions and, consequently, very few spaces remain in any section of the orchestra.  All we can use is you on violin and perhaps another flutist.  Does she play the
harp
at all?”

The old man looked hopefully at Ryan, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of disappointing him.  When he finally took notice of Rebecca, standing in the corner trembling to control her brewing tears, Christopher looked positively stricken.  “I presume this is your sister?” He asked quietly, as Ryan turned to take in the pitiful sight of Rebecca on the verge of wracking sobs.

Determined to maintain her dignity, Rebecca gulped down the sob that was forming in her throat and squinted to prevent her tears from falling.  She would not break down like a blubbering fool in front of a man she had just met.

“Yes, I am Ryan’s sister.  My name is Rebecca Meadow.” She shook the man’s hand with as much professionalism and poise as she could muster
and he smiled back warmly at her.

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Meadow.  I suppose you overheard our conversation?” Christopher Graysen asked
, bowing his head
with an empathy that touched Rebecca.

“Yes, indeed I did.  Congratulations, Ryan.” She turned a quick but sincere smile on her brother and then continued, “I don’t play the
harp
or any other instrument as it happens.  But I would be ever so grateful if you would allow me to perform a vocal audition.  The roles may all be taken now, but you never know when you might need an understudy.”

She spoke with self-confidence, any threat of a teary outburst completely averted by her flashbulb idea of being an understudy.  She would not let anything or anyone obstruct her possibilities for a career in singing.  She would remain tenacious.  Rebecca’s posture naturally uplifted to
an
elegant stance as she mentally coached herself not to give up.

“I must say that I admire your persistence, Miss Meadow.  It certainly could do no harm for you to audition, though I feel obliged to reiterate that the roles are all filled.  I cannot promise you anything.
  Furthermore, if you did assume the role of understudy, you must be aware that there would be no salary unless you actually performed.
”
Rebecca nodded in understanding, appreciative of Mr. Graysen’s compassionate candor.  “We have a pianist who can acco
mpany you---
Luke Springwell,” He turned towards Ryan, “The first violinist I mentioned to you.
  He’s multi-talented on the instruments, a sort of musical Renaissance Man.
” Mr. Graysen looked at Rebecca again who had turned quite white-faced in the span of a moment.  “Shall I fetch him for you?”
             
Panicked, Rebecca exclaimed, “No!  Please don’t!” The two men looked at her, startled and perplexed.  She softened her voice and explained, “I prefer to sing
a cappella
so you will hear my voice exactly as it is.  I would not want the piano to dis
tort or overshadow my singing.”

Inwardly, she squirmed, knowing this was an outright lie and that the accompaniment of a skilled pianist such as Luke would only enhance her voice.  But her exchange with him had left her oddly
edgy and apprehensive about singing in his presence.

“Very well, Miss Meadow.  It is as you wish.  Anytime you’re ready, please proceed.” Mr. Graysen took a step back and politely waited for Rebecca to commence.

“Thank you, Mr. Graysen.  I would like to sing for you an aria from Mozart’s
Don Giovanni
.”

Rebecca took a deep inhalation, gathering as much oxygen into her lungs as possible and then expelling the breath slowly to calm
her stage fright.  From the first note, crooned in a sweet cadence that breathed clarity and vitality into the Mozart classic, she knew that Mr. Graysen was captivated.  He closed his eyes, absorbing the soaring crescendos and dramatic decrescendos.

When she had finished, Mr. Graysen opened his eyes and raved,
“That was celestial.  There is no other way to describe it.  Heavenly.  Bravo, young lady.  I certainly do wish you had auditioned earlier in the season.  Your voice is ripe to portray any of opera’s
tragic or comedic
heroines.  And how that voice emanates from a young lady of your slight stature, I’ll never know.” Mr. Graysen clapped his hands vigorously as Rebecca breathed a
colossal
sigh of relief and bowed her head in modesty.