The orchestra played the overture to the humans’ production, sending shivers across Roxanne’s slender shoulders. Beside her, Harry wore a pleased expression on his face. They sat on the banister, in the very box where they had first met. Behind them, perched on the edge of her seat, was a small old woman with dark skin and gray hair, smiling and humming, apparently excited for the night’s performance as well. Roxanne believed she was related to the man who'd been with Lady when they'd reunited in the wig department, perhaps a grandmother or an aunt. The woman possessed the same scent as the man. At any rate, Roxanne enjoyed the elderly woman’s company. Every few minutes, the woman would scratch Roxanne’s ears and then Harry’s. For once, Harry allowed a human to pet him. Roxanne’s thoughts soon drifted from the elderly woman sitting behind her to Lady. Soon, Lady would be screeching on the stage in a main role, or so she hoped and believed.
Singing, not screeching, Roxanne reminded herself. It proved a difficult idea to keep straight.
As the overture progressed, Harry leaned closer to Roxanne and asked, “Are you excited to watch your human perform?”
Roxanne blinked. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts about screeching and singing that she had forgotten about Harry. Turning toward Harry, Roxanne offered a small smile. “Yes,” she whispered.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s the most unenthusiastic response I’ve ever heard you utter regarding Lady.”
Sighing, Roxanne gazed at the orchestra again. She wanted to talk about Orpheus. It had only been a day since she’d left him, but it might as well have been a year. A weight lingered in her heart regarding the enigmatic cat. She hadn’t spoken a word about Orpheus to Harry for fear he’d become angry with her. Despite everything Harry had endured to rescue her, she still hadn't figured out if he'd want to discuss anything about the ordeal so soon.
“I’m sorry,” Roxanne said after a few more seconds of silence. “I guess my mind is elsewhere.”
“Orpheus?”
Roxanne, her eyes wide, gawked at Harry.
Harry gave a small smile with about as much mirth as Roxanne’s had held. “It’s not hard to guess what you're thinking about, or who,” Harry said, tilting his head to one side. “You haven’t told me how or why Orpheus freed me and Kip, or why he let you go, either. Part of me wants to know, but part of me never wants to know. I suppose one day you will tell me, though.”
“Perhaps.” Roxanne returned her gaze to the orchestra. “He is on my mind, Harry. He will always have a special place in my heart.” Is it odd, Roxanne pondered, that I should feel that way about him? She couldn’t explain it to Harry out loud. He wouldn’t understand, truly, what it had been like to have known Orpheus when he was still an enigmatic voice drifting from the ceiling, although she’d told him about it before. That conversation above the stage seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was. Roxanne’s shoulders sagged.
Harry bristled. “You love him, then?”
“Not in the same way I love you,” Roxanne hurriedly insisted. “I don’t even know if I really love him at all. But I do pity him. His life could have been vastly different had he been surrounded by cats who appreciated him for his talents instead of feared him for his face.” Roxanne sighed. “Besides, he taught me how to truly sing, how to put my soul into my art. From now on, the last thing I will worry about is stage fright. There are worse things.” Roxanne glanced at Harry, curious as to his reaction to her words. She added, “For those gifts, I am forever grateful.”
Harry shifted his position. Once he finished adjusting himself, he said, “I thought you told Norb that you wanted to wait until you performed again, though. I’d have thought you would want to sing immediately.”
“I know,” Roxanne whispered, embarrassed at her short reply. She thought about what had transpired that morning when she'd found Norb in Bellows’s office. Norb had seemed in a sort of daze, muttering to Roxanne about how she'd have to fill the vacant roles left by Olga. He'd seemed distant during their short conversation, only partially listening to Roxanne’s request to wait till she sang such roles. When Roxanne had walked out of Bellows's office, she'd been a little worried that Norb hadn’t really heard her. Roxanne supposed the fact that she'd appeared after being gone for so long, and the whole Olga ordeal, had left Norb in a sort of stupor.
“Well?” Harry urged. “There has to be a reason for it.”
Roxanne took a deep breath. She disliked dwelling on the reasons for her postponement, but she knew Harry deserved an explanation after what he’d suffered through to save her. “I told Norb to assign the main roles to another cat, at least for a little while. Since Olga is leaving, Norb promised the main roles to me. However, I...I simply can’t bring myself to sing, even in small parts, until I feel ready.”
“You don’t feel ready despite the lessons Orpheus gave you? Despite what you said?”
“It’s not quite like that,” Roxanne insisted. “Because I sang for him, and because of everything that I endured and everything that happened, I feel I need to wait. I sang for a cat whose voice surpassed all others. You heard him, Harry. You must admit his voice was truly sublime.” When Harry remained silent, Roxanne continued. “I need to practice by myself until I believe my voice can be as good as possible. I don’t want to disappoint the cat I once called teacher.”
Harry shifted his weight from side to side. “Then you think he will live?”
Roxanne lowered her gaze. Harry referred to what Kip had told them about Orpheus being on the brink of death. Kip had also explained the Stripe incident to Harry, who begrudgingly accepted the explanation. Roxanne suspected Harry was fighting the urge to tell the entire story to Detective Clovis, who, as Harry had told her, hadn’t thought there’d been a crime worth investigating.
Returning to Harry’s question, Roxanne said, “No, I don’t think Orpheus will live. But perfecting my voice is as much for myself as it is for him.”
Harry grunted. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to sing as soon as possible, but I won’t push you into singing if you aren’t ready. There’s a lot about singers I will never understand.”
Roxanne smiled as Harry’s tail intertwined with hers. At least he wouldn’t press the matter further.
“For now, I’m happy you’re safe,” Harry whispered, resting his head on top of Roxanne’s, “and when you’re ready for your singing career to truly begin, I’ll support you in whatever way I can.”
The curtain rose, and the two cats fell silent. The elderly lady behind them leaned forward in her chair, her breath soft and warm on the cats’ shoulders. Roxanne sighed as she watched Lady step forward on the stage. Sorrow and joy rolled around in Roxanne’s heart; at one moment sorrow overwhelmed the joy, and then the next joy outweighed the sorrow. Happiness filled her at being free, sitting next to Harry and listening to her human below. But her thoughts kept returning to Orpheus. Where was he at present? Was he truly going to die, as Kip had said, alone in his dank lower level? How had Orpheus masked his odor when he’d simply been nothing more than a voice issuing forth from the walls? Roxanne wanted to know the answers to these questions, and at the same time, she wanted to remain naïve regarding Orpheus’s secrets. She tried focusing on Lady.
When Lady began screeching, Roxanne leaned forward, her ears pricked. Sorrow overwhelmed her again at remembering how Orpheus had understood the humans’ screeches. Perhaps Roxanne could give the humans a chance by trying to learn about their screeching…er, singing. It would be one way she could honor Orpheus. Orpheus had told Roxanne that Lady possessed a lovely voice, and Roxanne desperately wanted to hear it for what it truly sounded like. She tightened her tail around Harry’s as she settled in to listen carefully to the humans on stage.
#
Across the full auditorium, directly from Roxanne’s box, an empty box swathed in darkness went unnoticed by cats and humans alike. The velvet curtains swayed as a large cat dragged himself to the banister to watch the operetta. The cat turned his skull head toward Roxanne. Despite the distance, Orpheus could tell Roxanne was listening intently to the humans sing, and it pleased him. No creature existed as beautiful as Roxanne. He had been with her for such a short time, but it was, without a doubt, the happiest time he’d experienced in his entire life.
With his gaze fixed on Roxanne and his ears turned toward the humans singing, Orpheus rested his head on his paws. The night he’d first heard Roxanne singing in Lady’s dressing room seemed a lifetime ago, almost a fuzzy dream one only remembers a small part of, a dream that filled one’s soul with pleasure although the dreamer couldn’t remember exactly why. In his paws lay the emerald necklace Roxanne had dropped in the wig room the night of the Opera Cats’ party. He had found it after she’d returned to him that same night, but he never told her about his discovery. Orpheus slowly closed his eyes. Roxanne’s slender form was the last thing he saw, and it remained in his mind’s eye as he breathed his last.