Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 23:18:40 -0500 (EST) From: "seanr_13@yahoo.ca" Subject: The Missing Piece of a Piano - 2 The Missing Piece of a Piano By: Sean Roberts Author's Note: I hope you're enjoying it so far, please drop me a line to let me know what you think - seanr_13@yahoo.ca Bar 2 He regrets his choice of car when he enters the school parking lot. His large, black SUV sharply contrasts with the variety of old, faded Chevrolets and Fords that make up the parking lot. He climbs out, knowing they are watching him. He lights a cigarette and smokes it leaning against his car. He avoids making eye contact with anybody. He is embarrassed, too, about how he is dressed. Earlier this morning he decided to look his best for his first day at school, so he put on neatly ironed khaki pants and a crisp, buttoned shirt. Around him he sees faded jeans and old t-shirts. He knows that most of the people in the town are rich; they live, like him, in large houses. It is a small town lived in mostly by those who can afford to get away from the city. They dress the way they do because they are relaxed. The inexpensive cars are driven by those who attend the school from neighbouring towns. He finds the vice principal who welcomes him. The school, surprisingly, is as large as he is used to. The size is the result of the fact that it is shared by the neighbouring town. He sits in the vice principal's office. She too is wearing jeans. They play with his time-table, trying to fit in the six subjects he needs to graduate. But there are conflicts. She tells him that they can be resolved if he takes music, but he refuses. "Listen," she says finally. She is becoming frustrated because Daniel is being polite but at the same time refusing to budge on the issue of taking music. "If you can't play, I'll talk to Mr. Klein--he's the music teacher--he'd be happy to give you extra lessons, and you wouldn't be expected to catch up with the rest of the class to get a good grade." "It's not that I can't play," he says. "It's that I don't want to." Daniel makes sure to maintain the civility in his voice, knowing that he is walking on a thin line. "There has to be something else I can take." "There is. But you'll be giving up three subjects you told me you really want to take." He takes another look at the computer screen which has a five subject schedule. Then he sighs. He agrees to take the class. She punches in a code and it shows up after lunch. The school runs on a four-day system, so he has music every other day, starting today. He enters the music room. Rows of chairs and music stands are set up in a semi circle. A music stand, facing the room, stands in the front. Off to the side is a large desk and at the back of the room, on Daniel's right, is a piano. He has come early to meet the teacher. Mr. Klein, a short, bald man, is sitting at his desk. Behind him are large cupboards, obviously containing instruments. "Daniel, right?" he says, looking up. Daniel nods and walks over to him. "Mrs. Victoria said I had a new student this year. Welcome." He stands and reaches out his hand. "I'm Mr. Klein, it's nice to meet you." He shakes Daniel's hand. Daniel is surprised; in the city teachers did not introduce themselves in such a friendly or formal way. "So, Daniel, what do you play?" "Well, I can play the violin and the piano, but I'd really rather learn something new. I know how to read music, so I don't think it would be too hard for me to pick something up. I was thinking maybe the clarinet or something." Daniel does not really care to learn a different instrument, but he is scared to touch any of the ones he has been avoiding for so long. "Oh, of course, Daniel," Mr. Klein says, sounding disappointed. "Anything you want. But, since you mentioned that you can play the piano, can I ask how well?" "Oh, umm ... okay I guess, but I tend to make a lot of mistakes." "Well everybody makes mistakes," he says dismissively. That wouldn't change with a new instrument you know? Of course with practice ... the thing is Daniel, every year we do a concert at the end. That's what we work towards all year. And our pianist, Faye, she's very good but she usually isn't able to learn more than two pieces. For that matter neither is anybody else. But I was actually hoping to do four this year. And if you were able to do two of them, with the piano, it would be really great! See I can split the rest of the class into two parts and still keep all the instruments in each piece. We just don't have a pianist." Daniel wants to say no but the expectant look on Mr. Klein's face is something that can not be argued with. "Well, I guess I could, but like I said I'm not that good ..." "Here, come over to the piano." Mr. Klein's face gleams and his step lightens as he goes to a filing cabinet behind his desk. He brings over a piece of music. "This Bach is one of the pieces we're doing. Just try the first few bars so I can see how you are. It is a bit complex, so take your time." Daniel swallows. He lifts the cover and looks at the keys. When he became better with the piano, Daniel stopped seeing keys and began to see only fingerings. When he was even more familiar, he stopped seeing altogether and he heard only music in his mind as he stared at notes and touched the keys. He places his hands over the keys, beginning at middle C and looking at the music to see where to move them before pressing down. He reads the music and his fingers glide along the keys, one note after another. But there is no sound; he is un-able to press the keys and make the music live. "You'll have to do it a bit harder than that," Mr. Klein says cheerfully. Daniel looks up and smiles sheepishly. He tells himself he has to play. He presses the first note, then the second, slowly. There is a familiarity to these notes--he has heard the piece before. The melody catches in his head and from the third note he starts to play at the right tempo. He plays the first few bars well, then he reaches the middle of the fifth and catches a mistake. He stops playing immediately. He waits to feel hands on his shoulders; to hear a voice telling him that he made a mistake. When he receives none of this he looks around frantically before remembering where he is, before realizing once again that Keith is not with him. But now, standing beside him, is a girl. Daniel skips a breath when he sees her. She is significantly taller than he is, and much skinnier. But she is beautiful. She has cat like brown eyes; and very light brown hair that she has tied into a messy bun resembling fireworks. Her nose is long and nicely rounded at the end. She wears a hockey jersey and black track pants. She smiles when she catches his eyes. "Faye, meet our new, very talented pianist," says Mr. Klein proudly. "Daniel." Daniel stands up to shake her hand and the teacher walks off happily to talk to other members of the class who are just arriving. Mr. Klein has selected the Bach, a Mozart, a Beethoven and a Tchaikovsky for the concert. He has told Daniel and Faye to work out who wants to play what. "Not the Beethoven," Daniel says quickly. He knows the piece and he knows that he will not be able to handle the memories it would bring back. "Umm, okay," she says, surprised at his determination to not play that piece. "Sorry. It's just that ... you can pick the rest, I just really don't want to do that one." "Oh that's okay!" she says happily. "It doesn't really matter to me actually. I'm just glad I don't have to do all four! There's going to be so much more homework now that it's our final year, and I don't think I could handle learning four pieces on top of that. Well, look, you did the Bach really well just now, so why don't you keep that one. And the Tchaikovsky looks okay, I guess I'll do that one. So are you okay with the Mozart?" "Yes, fine. That sounds good." "Perfect." She finds his two pieces from the four Mr. Klein gave her and hands them to Daniel. He takes them and smiles. Then, to his relief, Mr. Klein announces that they are going to start off the year practicing the Tchaikovsky. * He goes to the school library, just after class. A very short woman with large, maroon glasses is reading a book behind the counter. "Excuse me." "Yes?" she says sharply. "Hi. Umm, I was wondering if you had any music." "Music?" "Yes, you know, music." "I'm afraid not. You'll have to try the music store." "Oh. No. I meant scores. That I can read." "Oh," she says, stunned at the unusual request. "I'm afraid we don't. But the local library should be able to help you. I'm pretty sure they have some." "Okay. Thanks. Umm, could you tell me how to get there?" "Yes. Make a right out of the school. Follow the road for three blocks, then make a left. You'll see a sign." He thanks her and leaves. The summer weather has not yet gone, and he enjoys the drive. He savours the areas of forest he passes, something very rare in the city. He turns left and drives past the library, his mind processing the sign only after he has read it. If it were written in notes, it would have registered immediately. He did not recognize it because the building is designed like a house. When he pulls in he notices that the garden in the front is nicely landscaped. A small, white sign with red paint sits on the surrounding fence. He does not know what to expect when he goes inside. He finds the building large for a library, especially one in such a small town. He walks through the front door, into a large room. He smells fresh wood. The counter is on his right; and to his left and beyond are shelves and desks arranged in a seemingly haphazard way. The walls that used to be a part of the house have now been demolished. In the centre of the room he sees stairs leading up and another set leading down. A tall woman in a white dress with coloured flowers stands behind the counter. She looks like she is in her fifties. She has sharp features, beautiful skin, and a smile. "Hello there," she says kindly. "I'm Doris. Is there something I can help you with?" "Hi, I'm Daniel. And I was actually looking for some music." "Oh. I think you'll have to try the music store. We don't have any ..." "No," he interrupts, having heard the objection before. "I'm looking for scores. To read. Someone told me there might be some here." "Oh! Yes just go downstairs. We haven't finished building the basement yet, so you'll have to excuse it. But all of the sheet music is there, and organized alphabetically by composer. The lighting is a bit dim. There are lots of desks on this floor though, and upstairs. Just so you know you can't borrow any music, it has to stay in the library. But if there's something you'd like I can always copy it for you." "Oh, thank you very much," he says, heading towards the stairs. "Oh, Daniel, was it?" "Yes." He stops. "Just between you and me, it usually isn't too busy in here, so if you ever wanted to bring in your instrument and play something, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. What do you play by the way?" "The piano." Doris laughs. "Well I guess you won't be doing that then. I won't keep you any longer. But before you go, just scribble down your name, address and phone number and I'll have a card made up for you. You can just pick it up on your way out." Daniel smiles and writes down the information before heading downstairs. Like the main floor, the walls have been ripped out. The floor, however, is still concrete, not hard wood like the rest of the house. Dim, forty watt bulbs hang from the ceiling, providing almost no light. Along the walls, modern looking filing cabinets with letters contain scores upon scores of music. More so, even, than the large library he used to frequent in the city. He smiles as he looks through Bach's folder and sees the number and variety of pieces housed in the dreary room. He picks out a score to read. He does not think about the fact that he will have to start playing again. He has already forgotten about his earlier attempt at the piano. Nothing has changed. He reads the piece, the music playing in his mind. This is all he needs; it is all he wants. He wants to get more from music--to hear it and to play it--but only with his lover sharing this pleasure with him.