Nightmarish Sacrifice (Cardew) (40 page)

             
And I would most probably never be in it again...

             
Nor would I ever star in another play.

             
Never...

             
“Adorable!” I raised my voice into another desperate scream, but he was already unconscious again, his body so completely lifeless that I really had difficulties in lifting him to a sitting position.

             
The tenderly grieving baritone soloist sang his deeply moving part while I was crying in shock over my stage-husband’s body, and as soon as the crystal-pure background voice reached the tragical highest tone in the song and held it firmly while the choir’s vocals died away, I knew that it was time...

             
I had to pronounce my last words in the play.

             
My last ever words on stage...

             
“My love –” I was doing my best to speak clearly, but the sincere tears filling my whole being were driving my voice uneven with affliction; the spotlights were turning Cardew’s face deathly pale, and I shuddered with the thought that there was a possibility that the boy had fainted for real – his pride wouldn’t let him confess if he had not been feeling alright – what if something secret had actually happened and, instead of immediately crying for help, I was still playing the damned role...

             
However, I didn’t yield to such affection-rooted fears, and gathered all my forces to utter loudly while staring at his closed eyes: “Know that I never stopped loving you –”

             
And I started the fatal kiss.

             
As soon as my lips fixed on his strangely motionless mouth, the stage blasted with dazzlingly white light, and all the warriors around me broke into screams of terror, creating another mighty wave of tension for the audience we were holding in suspense for the last several minutes.

             
And then – in the mass uncontrollable chaos when everyone was tossing around restlessly but all eyes were on Cardew and me again, he finally started answering to my kiss – at first secretly, then in a way that wouldn’t remain unnoticed...

             
“She gave her life to him!” one boy with nastily high voice shouted to let the audience know what was happening on stage, in case someone had got carried away into the impressive music which had aroused again. “She will die but he will live!!! –”

             
The fast blinking light was making everything on stage look like a sequence of photos negligently thrown around, capturing the developing tragedy from different angles; the only constantly strong ray was pointing at Cardew and me as we were both concentrated on the most complex detail of our performance – an idea we had added to the play ourselves, and which we had secretly rehearsed without asking for Mr Shelton’s permission to include it, as we were almost completely sure that he would turn us down in advance but admire it if he saw it straight on the premiere.

             
As it was this kiss which was the absolute culmination of the scene and the whole play, Cardew and I had decided to bring it into more impressive focus so as to display in more details its radical effect on both characters – as it represented the turning point which instantly revived his and irreversibly destroyed mine at the same time.

             
It must have looked utterly simple from aside, but it took us much strenuous but thrilling emotionally practice to get to the amazing synchrony we had managed to reach in the end; the ‘fatal kiss’ was beginning with the contact between my alive fiery lips and Cardew’s icily dead ones, and during it we were both going through a complex metamorphosis in which I was gradually losing my consciousness while he was awakening again...

             
Slowly, step by step, we were simultaneously changing our position like perfect mirror images of each other: my arms lifelessly glided aside from his body and it was already Cardew who was holding me, not vice versa; my legs surrendered powerlessly and he found himself firm on his knees and supporting me instead; my mouth froze into stillness and then it was my partner who was kissing my passive lips...

             
He took a deep breath – and I released my last one.

             
My character had died – and already his was the alive one.

             
For a fraction of the second everything went completely dark, and then, just when the expected common cry of surprise and anticipation rose in the audience, the spotlights focused on Cardew and me again.

             
All I had to do was play a corpse – not the most exciting of roles, as I could only lie relaxed in his hug and wait for the play to end, so I could gather my share of applause...

             
And of his inspired kisses...

             
“Lovely?!! Lovely, no!!! –” Cardew’s hopeless voice was calling me in such a heart-felt way that even a gravestone would respond with fervent affection, but I stayed flawlessly frozen in stillness, flawlessly dead – had I really died, in fact, I was sure that I would have already been magically revived by the sincere moving tragedy in his tone – so thus, my torpor could be a weird proof that I was alive – a proof thankfully nobody considered. “Why did you sacrifice yourself for me, lovely – now we will never see each other again! I am an immortal god, and you will be forever dead! –”

             
But what was the warm drop of fluid that fell on my lips right then? A remainder of the fake blood, sweat, or just pure water?...

             
I managed to unnoticeably lick my lips, and the taste of that liquid was so familiar that I could never mistake it...

             
It was a teardrop!

             
Cardew was crying!...

             
Shocked and petrified, I used the fact that my lashes were thick so as to cast him a rapid secret glance through them – the sight of his face covered in mourning tears was so unreal that it got me absolutely stupefied.

             
So then it was true that on stage he was able to do things that in real life he would never allow himself – he was even capable of bursting into real sincere tears, when I could almost hear in my mind how he was declaring with utter certainty that crying was an embarrassing and humiliating display of weakness, and he would not let himself be weak under any circumstances.

             
Nevertheless, when in a role, it seemed that Cardew could do wonders...

             
Even his voice was filled with dramatic tears when he loudly announced the closing words of the play – with such overwhelming wave of excess emotion that I shuddered in torturing compassion, together with the whole audience:

             
“Another deity of Fire will be born, but it will always remain cold in my heart! –”

             
And then, alone and emotionally drained by the tragedy, he bowed down to lay me on the ground with touchingly tender care, silently knelt beside me with already unnecessary, vain respect, and left a quiet mournful kiss on my forehead; his lips were still slightly pressed to my skin when the lights went dimmed and the whole stage sank in the ultimate darkness...

             
But that was the last moment of silence before everything exploded into enthusiastic cheering.

             
The play was over.

             
And the applause had just started!...

                                          Cardew immediately helped me up and I stared at his face before even thinking about the audience – he was calm and victorious as usual, and if it was not for the still wet salty traces of tears down his cheeks, I would have thought that his crying had been added by my imagination.

             
“It was perfect!” he assessed silently with a triumphant grin while I removed his tears with one fast movement. “Perfect!!! –”

             
“You made it perfect!” I couldn’t resist anymore and finally threw on his neck with fervent relief, and he grabbed me strongly in his fiery embrace again, this time not hopeless sorrow but endless joy in the exhilarating thrills he filled me with.

             
And the audience was cheering loudly and unstoppably, its applause attracting the whole cast to the edge of the stage, and everyone bowed together before dragging back for the more official part when actors were going forward one by one, the most insignificant parts first, so everyone would receive as much of the praise as they had won.

             
Mr Shelton bowed before Cardew and me and looked at us to see who would go forward first; I had warned Cardew to stay last because to me his part was the main in the play and he was the real star in our crew, but he hadn’t agreed with me, so this was the only moment of our staying on stage we hadn’t determined for sure in advance.

             
However, thinking that my fast reaction would force my partner stay last and enjoy the best part of the cheering rising to unbelievable noise, I hurried forwards first...

             
As if I didn’t know Cardew well enough! Of course, he didn’t let me impose anything on him – and, without getting the least bit embarrassed or confused, he quickly walked forward together with me, reaching for my hand...

             
And then I simply took his, accepting the gesture with a grateful smile – his readiness to share the audience’s attention with me meant far more than he would tell me.

             
We bowed together – under the deafening downpour of applause, and then I gave a sign to the boy to step a bit aside and let me relish first my prize for all the effort I had put in rehearsals.

             
He obeyed me reluctantly, but anyway did – and the scarlet curtsy I made was met with such energizing enthusiasm that I stayed there in the spotlight for some more moments in which it was as if time had stopped, my senses enjoying the admiration I was attracting from all directions...

             
And then I pulled away, leaving the central space free for the greatest talent among us, and as soon as my arm stretched towards Cardew, the hall exploded into loud approving screaming even before he had made a single step forward.

             
My partner raised his head towards me, his stone-gray eyes smiling with radiant liveliness, and he grinned even more widely when I blew him a kiss for good luck on his way to receiving his share of applause. The people from the first rows were visible for us because the strong light was partially falling on them, too, and I could see that they were all cheering on their feet in the moment when the young actor bowed before them, the soft curls of his hair animatedly orange-golden in the glorious limelight.

             
But the audience didn’t want to let us go so easily – we spent at least ten more minutes in bowing and thanking them, again and again, until I felt as if that was what I had been doing since the very first moment in which I had realized that I existed.

             
“Magnificent, just flawless!” Mr Shelton turned to Cardew and me when we were finally backstage, in the centre of the spirited cast, and everyone was speaking noisily without listening to the others. “Such improvisations! –”

             
“We had practiced the kiss in the end,” Cardew smiled confidently but his arms locked in front of me like a protective shield, just in case there followed a verbal attack. “We didn’t ask you on purpose –”

             
“Which has been the best decision!” the teacher laughed and I couldn’t repress my giggling. “I wouldn’t have let you play it like this as it was a bit too scandalous to receive my approval, but as you decided it yourselves –”