Devil's Creek

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  Her grin was infectious. He couldn’t help but return it. “Wow. We have a lot in common.”

  He was about to ask her what roles she’d played when a shadow loomed over them, blocking the sun. Anderson looked up to find a tall kid with a brooding expression staring at Caroline.

  “Caroline? What’s going on?” the guy said.

  She flushed and turned to him, spitting his name. “Hank.”

  Anderson stood and half-heartedly offered his hand. “Hey. I’m Anderson.”

  Hank ignored him, still holding Caroline in his steely gaze. “What is this? Are you already two-timing me?”

  Her eyes blazed and she stood taller, although the guy dwarfed her. “Hank. For God’s sake. I told you last week, it’s over.”

  “It’s not over until I say so,” he said, crowding her.

  “Yes. It is. We’re done.” She stalked to her book bag and slung it over her shoulder. “And now Anderson, my new friend and I, are going to class.”

  Hank huffed. “I’m in the same damned class, you know.”

  She didn’t smile. “Yes. You are.” She mumbled under her breath, “Unfortunately.”

  Hank heard her and wrenched at her arm. “What did you say?”

  “Hey!” She jerked it back. “You’re hurting me.”

  Galvanized to action, Anderson jumped up before he could think it through. He had the guy in a chokehold, whispering in his ear. “Leave the lady alone. You bother her again, and I’m gonna be all over your ass. You hurt her again, and you’re dead.” He tightened his grip on Hank’s neck. “Understood?”

  Hank ducked and swiveled around, clutching his throat. “Geez. You didn’t have to go all combat boy on me.” He glowered at Caroline, backing away. “Go ahead. Enjoy your soldier, bitch.” He stalked off, red-faced, and the crowd that had been watching slowly dissipated.

  Caroline linked arms with Anderson and sighed, trembling. “Phew. Thank you.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “You were amazing.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I guess. Hank was my boyfriend throughout high school. We were in all the shows together. He was always my male lead.” She laughed bitterly. “He kind of followed me here to this school. I thought I’d be able to make a clean break of it when we graduated last spring, but it wasn’t so easy.” She leaned her head against Anderson’s arm as they walked. “I finally did it last week after orientation.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “He seems like a real jerk.”

  “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes and gave a short laugh. “He’s too darned persistent.”

  They approached the classroom, and he stopped her and turned her toward him. “Listen. I’m here for you if you need me, any time, day or night. ”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “Really?”

  “Really.” The look they exchanged melted his heart, and he knew, once again, that this was the start of forever.

  Chapter 19

  Professor Gambino stood at the front of the class, his face alive and his eyes wild with passion. His long, white hair cascaded like a lion’s mane to his shoulders, giving him an almost angelic appearance. But the glimmer in his eyes seemed the opposite of divine when he ogled the female students in the room.

  “And so, people,” he boomed. “Tryouts are tomorrow night. This,” he said, gesticulating wildly, “will be our department’s most defining moment. The first college level production of The Phantom of the Opera in history.” He raked his eyes across the room. They blazed with demonic glee. “It will put us on the theatrical map. We will become the most coveted drama school in the entire nation.”

  Anderson could see why the man had been drawn to the theater. He performed his lectures, jumping up on his desk, strutting around the room like Mick Jagger, and articulating his words as if he were spouting Shakespeare.

  “And I know that one of you gorgeous young women,” his eyes roamed the room as if he were deciding which virgin to choose for his next sexual adventure, “will be the perfect Christine.”

  A female chorus of sighs wafted across the hall.

  Anderson wondered about the guy. Sure, he was good. Better than good. He had the whole room buzzing with anticipation, shivering with excitement. But the way he devoured each of the girls with his eyes—as if they were tasty appetizers—creeped him out, more than a little bit.

  Beside him, sitting halfway up the lecture hall, Caroline’s eyes shone. Her lips parted, and her head nodded in silent agreement with Gambino’s apparent wisdom.

  “And you men,” he said. “If you’re trying out for the part of the Phantom, remember, you’ll have to use your falsetto voice for the high parts.” He scanned the crowd again, pausing significantly. “And not everyone can do that with credibility.”

  A rumble of male voices spun around the room.

  “And whoever plays Raoul will have to be damned good looking,” he said with a snicker. “So you’d best be able to sing like a bird and charm a hall full of women with your pretty face.” He chuckled. “A bit like me.”

  The crowd tittered, and a few of the women around them uttered long, drawn-out sighs, as if they’d jump in bed with the guy if he deigned to cast his gaze on them.

  Something hit the back of Anderson’s neck.

  He reached back and felt for it. It was wet. And pulpy.

  For crying out loud. A spitball?

  He turned and scanned the crowd.

  There he was. Hank sat two rows behind them, smiling serenely at the professor. He raised his hand to ask a question, as if he hadn’t just shot the thing at Anderson.

  “Professor, I have a question.”

  “Speak,” Gambino said, waving his hand in the air.

  “Will the Phantom have to be athletic? You know, physically fit?”

  The prof set his gaze on Hank. “Certainly. He has to jump down from the wall, perform a sword fight, and be quite limber, in general.”

  “So, if he has, say, a war injury, he’d be excused from the audition?”

  Gambino squinted at him, trying to see him better through the bright stage light that lit his podium. “Well, it would depend on the extent of the injury. Why do you ask? Are you a vet?”

  All eyes turned to Hank now.

  He squirmed in his seat. “Uh. No. I was just curious.”

  Gambino scanned the room again. “Who here is a vet?”

  Anderson and a tall black woman from the back row raised their hands.

  “Huh,” Gambino said. “Good to know.” He started to walk to one side of the room, turning on his heels to raise a finger in the air as if suddenly inspired. “But it all depends on the quality of your voices, people. Remember when Pavarotti performed at the Met when he was ill? He could barely walk. He needed help to move, he needed props to lean on.” He smiled. “But that voice was worth any compensation needed to get that man on stage.”

  The students murmured their approval.

  “So, if one of you is not quite as fit as the others, but if your voice rings out and makes us quake with joy… ” he closed his eyes. “We will find a way to get you up there.”

  Hank sank into his seat, clearly disappointed.

  Gambino raised an eyebrow in Hank’s direction. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Uh. Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  Caroline cast a sideways smile at Anderson. It was almost a secret smile. As if she knew something good was going to happen. Something incredible. Something world-shattering.

  Warmth spread through him. He leaned back in the seat, stretching his legs out to fix the cramps. He hadn’t felt this good in years.

  Another spitball hit him, and he swiveled around to glare at Hank, who smiled wickedly at him.

  “Really?” Anderson said, sotto voce. “What is this? High school?” he whispered fiercely. He pulled back his anger, tamping it down. It would do no good to lose control.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  He’d deal with the jerk outside the classroom
; he didn’t need to bring negative attention to himself just before auditions tomorrow night.

  Maybe that was what Hank wanted? To have him freak out in front of the whole class? Be branded as a troublemaker?

  Anderson turned to look at the jerk, wondering if he’d try it again.

  Hank chuckled, and repositioned himself in his seat, fixing his gaze on Caroline. He pursed his lips and kissed the air. “Love ya,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Caroline’s face darkened to brick red. With eyes blazing, she turned to Hank and spit the words, “Stop it!” in a menacing growl.

  Anderson snaked his arm around Caroline’s shoulders, proud of her, and she snuggled against him in a show of solidarity, with her nose turned up a bit as if she were a princess dismissing her royal servant.

  He loved her cute little nose.

  Already.

  Could it have only been a few hours since they met?

  Somehow, he felt as if they’d known and loved each other forever. As if they’d just reconnected after sharing many lives together.

  Yes. As crazy as it sounded, even to him, he knew they were going to be a great couple.

  Chapter 20

  Auditions started at seven o’clock on Tuesday evening, open to students and community members alike. With over one hundred parts and the need for dozens of crew members, the entire community would be needed to fill the stage, from extras who didn’t need particular talents like singing or dancing, to professionals from all fields.

  The packed university auditorium—a monstrous hall of immense proportions—had been donated by a wealthy alumnus two years earlier. Its vast stage and elaborate mechanisms for lights and overhead background drops was perfectly suited for a production as ambitious as Phantom.

  Anderson and Caroline sat ten rows from the front, watching as legions of dancers auditioned for ballet parts. Most coveted in this group was the role of Meg, the daughter of Madame Giry. Two young women from the Rutland Dance Academy had shown up to fight for this part—and it was going to be close. Both women danced beautifully, but Anderson knew only one could win the role, because it also required the young dancer possess a strong soprano voice. The blond wearing the pink warm-ups was bound to be chosen, because she’d just sung a few bars from Meg’s part in “The Angel of Music,” and it had brought the crowd to its feet.

  As the crew of dancers cavorted and pirouetted around the stage, Anderson snaked his fingers through Caroline’s, squeezing every so often.

  Strange, how they’d fallen into a pattern of absolute trust and adoration.

  Can it be real? Will it last?

  Anderson glanced sideways at her angelic face, once again astonished at her beauty. Why hadn’t he noticed her before? She shone among all the young women in the class, so bright and sweet that it almost hurt to look at her.

  He wondered about her singing ability. Would it be as lovely as she was? Her speaking voice was musical and evoked flutters in his heart, but even if she had talent, it all depended on her training. Had she taken lessons? He hadn’t had a chance to ask her yet. But the role of Christine Daaé was incredibly demanding for any soprano. He said a little prayer, wishing the very best for her.

  Caroline’s eyes shone, taking in every nuance of the performance on stage. Once the dance troupe was chosen, they’d move on to the minor parts. It wouldn’t be until the part of Christine was auditioned that she’d be up there, doing her own singing and dancing.

  The way it was going, Anderson figured it might take two or three nights to get to the major roles. But he would be ready, and nothing would stop him from going for this dream.

  He casually glanced around, scanning the room for Hank.

  He’d be here. He said as much in class that morning. And he was going for the role of Phantom.

  So, it was going to be a duel of voices. He and Hank.

  Great.

  He sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to that.

  He cast his eyes in the other direction, and found Hank, staring at him with a wicked smile.

  God, that was creepy. The guy looked like some kind of demon, with eyes burning as if eager to run a dagger through Anderson’s chest.

  He’d probably do it with that same sick smile on his face, too.

  The weirdo gave him the finger, grinned even wider, and turned back to the auditions on stage.

  A tremor ran through Anderson. It was like the frisson of premonitions he got just before the bloody skirmish where his friends were blown to bits. He’d felt it before.

  But this was crazy. How could he be predicting a bloodbath in a normal, every day, American event like this?

  Maybe it wasn’t a bloodbath he sensed. But something else.

  What? Another spitball?

  He chuckled to himself. What the hell. He wasn’t in Iraq anymore. The worst this guy had done was to give him the evil eye and spit wadded up paper at him.

  That, he could take.

  He settled back into his seat and slid his arm around Caroline.

  Chapter 21

  On the second night of auditions, Professor Gambino had whittled down the crowd significantly. He’d chosen four adult members from the Community Players for the major roles of Firmin, André, Piangi, and Madame Giry. These would be some of the actors who’d sing the famous, “Notes,” ensemble, and Anderson thought they’d been wisely chosen. The chorus and crew had been dismissed, and Gambino announced that everyone who had signed up would be assigned to one or the other group. The theater was quieter now, with barely forty students clustered near the front of the hall. Only four roles remained to cast, including The Phantom himself, Christine, her beau, Raoul, and the opera’s comic diva, Carlotta.

  “Oh, no.” Caroline turned to Anderson at the break, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She stared at the young woman chatting with Gambino at the front of the room. “Do you know who that is?”

  Anderson shook his head. “No. But she can’t be that scary, Caroline.”

  She paled. “She is, though. She’s Merry Freecastle. Home for the semester from the Eastman School of Music. She’s studied voice there for three years now.”

  “Really?” Anderson tried to remain neutral. “Is she good?”

  “Good?” Caroline let out a huge sigh and slumped in her seat. “She beat me out of every single role in high school. It was only after she left that I started getting the leads. She was my nemesis.”

  “I see.” He glanced over at the young woman, and noticed Gambino running a hand provocatively up her arm. “Wow. Looks like she knows the prof. Or like maybe he wants to know her.”

  “Oh my God.” Caroline’s eyes widened. “Do you think she’s sleeping with him?”

  “If not now, probably tonight,” Anderson laughed. “But you shouldn’t worry. You’re more the ‘Christine’ type. She’s a blond Amazon. She’d be taller than most of the guys trying out for Raoul.” He turned her toward him. “And look at you. You have long dark hair, you’re gorgeous. You ARE Christine. And even if you don’t get the lead, you’ll always be the best in my book.”

  “There’s such a thing as wigs and lifts, silly.” She punched his arm. “And you haven’t even heard me sing yet.”

  He laughed. “I don’t have to. I just know you’re the best.”

  They both watched as Hank wandered to the front of the room, eyeing Merry. He skirted the professor and the singer, looking up as if just recognizing her. With smiles and brief hugs, they went through a reconnecting routine.

  “Did Hank know Merry in high school?”

  Caroline scowled. “Of course. Everyone in drama club knew her. And he played Flounder in ‘The Little Mermaid’, so they got really close.”

  “She was Ariel?”

  “Of course.” Caroline shrugged. “I played one of her sisters.”

  “I’ll bet you were a pretty mermaid,” Anderson said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

  Caroline let loose a nervous laugh. �
�Someday I’ll model my mermaid costume for you. It was pretty cool.”

  Anderson grinned. “I’d love that.”

  Gambino ushered Merry to a seat in the front row. Hank, of course, sat next to her. Students began to migrate back to their seats, and a hush went over the crowd.

  “Okay, people.” The professor clapped his hands, and motioned to the pianist who’d been texting on his phone throughout the break. “Phones off please. We are coming down to the wire.”

  Beeps and blips of cell phones being turned off filled the hall.

  “Tonight we are honored to have a remarkable young woman with us, a young lady who just happens to be home this semester from the famous Eastman School of Music. Merry Freecastle,” he gestured toward her and a polite round of applause filled the hall.

  Merry stood and smiled, waving with one hand.

  “Merry will be trying out for the role of Christine, but I want you to know, nothing is a done deal. Everyone who wants to be Christine should come up here and give it your all. Is that clear?” His lowered his eyes and moved his shaggy white mane from side to side. “Everyone.”

  There was a murmur in the crowd, which quieted when Gambino jumped back up onto the stage.

  “We’re going to start with ‘Think of Me.’ I’ll have each of you lovely ladies sing the first verse, and then we’ll do the dance routines. I’ll cut down the list at that point, and then we’ll take the last three of you through all the songs, a scene to assess your acting abilities, and another dance.”

  Caroline’s hand tightened on Anderson’s fingers. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Please, God. Give me strength.”

  “Okay, people. Let’s have everyone who’s ever dreamt of playing Christine Daaé up on stage. I’d like you to file past me, from stage right to stage left.”

  Gambino scrutinized the ten women who walked before him. Anderson noted that Merry really was a full six inches taller than all of the other women, and probably a foot taller than Caroline, close to his own height. Three of the women—including Caroline—walked like dancers, with that special placement of toe-to-heel that screamed ballerina.