Melody's Farewell

Melody stood in the shadows backstage, waiting. She could see the audience; a sea of upturned and expectant faces. Smugness, anticipation, terror and excitement played target practice with her emotions. Intellectually she was calm - coldly ruthless.

She was about to make her last entrance of the evening and of her professional career. While she had a remarkable career singing Wagner to packed houses and critical acclaim, she and her husband were tired. The years of endless air travel, living in hotel rooms, speaking foreign languages, small dingy dressing rooms, brusque stage directors, tyrannical conductors, comically inept sets and horrifyingly inadequate costumes were about to recede into history. It was a fitting climax that tonight’s performance was Gotterdammerung. The theater was overflowing with fans, critics and music lovers; all gathered for this last, epic outing of her signature role.

She turned and searched for Jacob until she found his eyes in the darkness just beyond the fly. He winked at her. She smiled and gave him a brief nod then turned back to face the stage. Their hours of secret plotting, practicing and scheming were about to bear fruit.

She watched Siegfried die. An assistant conductor stood nearby, ready to cue her entrance. When he raised his hand to indicate her position, he was shocked when Melody handed him the horned helmet.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

Wordlessly, she then dismantled the iron chest plate, throwing it away over one shoulder. An alert stagehand caught it before it clattered to the floor. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she loosened her hair and it cascaded almost to her waist. Before anyone else could react, Melody stepped out into the small pool of light awaiting her and began to sing.

***

Wagner’s original text had Brunnhilde mount and then charge with the horse into the flames of Siegfried’s funeral pyre so that they could all go to Valhalla together. Melody thought that made more dramatic sense, but hours of discussion, pleading, and tantrums had not prevailed. The stage director and conductor – in rare agreement - were both completely against the notion.

“Horses are terrified of fire. Even to just lead one off stage behind stage fire is dangerous,” the director sniffed. So for the umpteenth time in her career, Melody rehearsed leading a horse off stage for the finale.

Figuring that they had nothing to lose, Jacob found a stable that specialized in movie stunt horses. They outlined their plan to the trainer, and after a large cash payment, training commenced in secret. It only remained to arrange for the stunt horse to be switched with the stage horse. The trainer knew people that could arrange for that too, and with sufficient financial incentives, no questions were asked.

***

It was time. When the stage fire was lit the crew was alarmed at its brightness – it burned much more furiously than previous performances. Jacob smiled; that had been his idea. Melody led the horse to the front of the stage for her final notes. When she abruptly leaped on its back, wrapping her fingers in its mane, the horse reared back on his hind legs, his front hooves pawed the air. The audience gasped as one. The conductor kept his arms moving by rote, while his eyes bugged at the scene just over his head. On stage, extras scattered in terror. The horse landed on all fours, then reared once again. Melody continued to sing. Finished, she triumphantly threw one arm in the air. With her heels, she goaded the steed to charge up the stage at a gallop, jump over the fire and into the wings. The audience exploded in cheers and applause, drowning out the rest of the music.

Jacob waited with the door open to the alley as Melody, still astride, trotted out of the theater. She jumped off and gave the horse a big kiss on the nose. The trainer took charge of the beast, leading it away before they could be discovered. She took Jacob’s arm and they hopped into the waiting limo, forsaking any curtain calls.

“I only hope somebody was recording that” he murmured. She threw her head back and laughed.

“It’s probably already on You Tube” she agreed. He reached into the ice-filled bucket on the floor, pulled out the champagne and popped the cork.

“Happy retirement, my love.”

They clinked glasses as the limo glided away.