"Come in!" the man's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Hello?" I said, sticking my head through the gap I made in the doorway. "Excuse me, headmaster. Joshua Vann..."

"Ah yes! Mr. Vann the music teacher...yes, please come in. Have a seat."

"Thank you."

The small man behind the desk leaned back in his chair as he waved me in and pointed to the chair across him.

"So, Mr. Vann..."

"Please, headmaster. Josh would be fine."

"Yes...yes indeed." He looked me from the top of his glasses. "Mr. Vann, I prefer if you keep yourself professional."

"Eh...um...yes, of course, headmaster."

"One thing that intrigues me, Mr. Vann, is that you are hardly 30, a well accomplished musician with many big awards under you title as piano performer. Yet, how did you land yourself in this god-forsaken place as a music teacher?"

"I've always believed in changing the world through music by inspiring the younger generation," I responded, partly confident while under his obvious scrutiny.

I wasn't planning to impress him, but my answer may have been the most cliché response ever – to try to impart on the younger generation how music could change the world thereby inspiring them and urging them to inspire others. However, I also wasn't planning on telling him exactly why I was here. He made it clear by wanting me to act professional that I'd find no solace or understanding from any wise words he could impart if I ever told him why I was here.

He was a man with a business-like disposition and any words of wisdom from him would probably just be, `Move on. Deal with it.' And somewhere along those lines, maybe he'd ask me to define the problem, list some possible alternatives, implement a solution and analyse the results.

Move on. Deal with it.

Only, it was not that easy. Moving on from where I dug myself into, I would only be able to climb an inch upward and slide two inches back into my pit. So how could I possibly deal with it when it was already hard for me to not let myself slip further downward?

"Yes, well," he said, shrugging off my answer, pulling me back, "we've all heard that textbook phrase before. Anyhow, I personally do not believe that you are qualified for this position. But, since you are appointed here by the superintendent himself, I have no other choice but to keep you here instead of sending you back to London and get me in a whole lot of apologizing and explanations. You start tomorrow."

"Um...of course."

The man put down the folder that I presume was my files. He ringed a buzzer and a woman came in.

"Yes, headmaster?" she said, her voice kind and sweet.

"Rose, please show Mr. Vann here to his quarters and then the music wing. He will be taking over the department tomorrow."

"Yes, headmaster."

"Thank you, headmaster," I said as I stood up and reached my hand.

"Yes, yes. Good luck Mr. Vann," he said, looking down at my hand then to his papers again.

I followed my guide, Rose, down several hallways and turns and I actually appreciated it when she kept our conversation going, despite how hard it was for her to get any response from me besides the `yes' and `no.' Frankly, her lovely voice and elderly age were the only thing keeping me from stopping in my tracks and just letting my eyes linger toward the windows and stare at nothing. She reminded me of my grandma and she always found a way to keep me engaged even to a bare minimum.

What made it hard was our walk to my assigned quarters. I knew this place and these several hallways, maybe not by heart but I surely was not a foreigner here. Years ago, I walked down here, took several turns along with my parents and found a piece of our lives waiting with anxious arms to embrace us and let us be a part of his life more than making him a part of ours.

"Mr. Vann," she mumbled and I stared impolitely. She chuckled and opened a door to her right. "This will be your room."

She stepped aside and let me walk past her. What emotions stirred in me ever since I set foot in this place earlier came to a halt, but not totally. My consciousness was now focused on my new surrounding – my own quarters.

My quarters was actually quite cosy for all things considered. It had a Victorian style queen-sized bed with wooden frames and half posts on the four corners. A desk was placed across the room from the bed, just by the window, looking out to a lake. Two ceiling-high bookshelves full of what the previous music teacher left behind stood nearby. The poor man died of a heart attack while on vacation at his home in France, or so I was told. There was an old upright piano standing by one of the other walls beside the old wooden closet. I walked over to the old antique and opened up its cover. Dusting off the unevenly spaced and levelled keys, I instantly knew that this thing has seen some history and has not been well protected against moisture. Playing a short few chords, however, did show its beauty within. It was surprisingly well tuned and has a very mellow but sweet tone – one that I loved very much.

"Are you happy with the accommodation, Mr. Vann?" Rose asked as she opened the blinds of the windows for me, making me aware that I still had her company.

"Please, call me Josh," I answered, making sure that she didn't notice me spacing out a while ago. "And yes, thank you. This will do just fine."

"Alright then, Josh, shall we go see your classrooms when you are ready?"

"Please."

Another short and quiet walk ensued, but this time I tried thinking of how I could make my quarters my home. Doing so, I would probably feel what it was like to live here and how it must have felt to meet some strangers willing enough to let you embrace them and make them your family. And, at last, how hard it would be to let go when everything was just getting better.

The classroom was more like a choir room, with steps layout and long wooden tables fixed to the ends of each step and old four leg stools unevenly tucked under. It seemed like there could be up to eighty students in a class each time. There was, however, one gem hidden in the corner – a baby grand with its natural wood cover warped and blistered through its time, sitting against the front cover of the room, sound case open to the windows as the keys faced the front wall so that whoever sits at the keys will be facing the students. Over all, the room was quite spacious with good acoustic and well lit by the windows.

"Dinner will be served at six o'clock at the dining hall. You'll be joining the staff table, of course. Anything else you need, you just let me know Josh. You know where to find me," Rose said as she handed me the keys. "Please do be careful. The boys like to play tricks on newcomers and being boys, sometimes they don't know when to hold back. I'd lock your desk at night if I were you."

"Thanks for the advice, Rose," I said, offering her a smile that was nowhere as sweet as hers.

"I hope you can make a difference here. God knows these boys need something good in their lives." She smiled back, took my hands in hers and patted them like grandma used to do before leaving me to myself.

Make a difference, I thought. Somehow, I was hoping they'd make a difference in me.

I sat down at the piano and lifted the cover. Sliding my fingers across the old and stained keys, my nose adjusted to the old wooden smell. Closing my eyes to calm myself, I let my fingers dance across the keys as my mind slipped into my own universe.

* * * * *

"How can I adopt someone?"

I looked at the two curious blue eyes set on mine.

"Why?"

"Just tell me," his eager voice said. "How do I go about adopting someone from the orphanage that I came from?"

My adopted little brother Lucas and I sat on the roof of our family summer cottage at the lake, enjoying the calm hot summer as we watched the sun setting across the water.

"Well, let's see," I paused, gathering my thoughts, "I think first, you will have to be able to provide his needs financially."

"You mean like a home?"

"Not just a home, but daily things. Also, there's school, piano lessons..."

"I get piano lessons from you for free though," he pointed out.

"True enough," I said, smiling a little. "But you have to provide him with a family."

Lucas was deep in thought. He always looked so calm when he's seriously thinking about something.

"We are a family," he stated.

"That we are, buddy."

"Do you think I can adopt someone else from the orphanage?" He looked up at me with pleading eyes, his innocence melting my heart.

"I think you have to be an adult to do so. What brought this up all of a sudden?"

"Nothing," he mused. "It's silly." His eyes drifted toward the lake.

"Those were not silly questions, Lucas." He was quiet. I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him into me. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," he said, giggling a little perhaps to lift himself up or to make me worry less about what was troubling him. His giggles were surely addictive, though I knew that there was more to this than to just drop the subject.

"So, tell me. What's eating you up, lil bro?"

"Remember that boy I told you about? That friend of mine from the orphanage?"

"The one you say is just as talented as me at piano?"

Lucas laughed. A child's laughter is always good for the heart and his was just as special without me being biased by my own affection for him.

"Billy, was it?" I added.

He nodded.

"I promised I will go back for him, but it's been two years since I left and I haven't even went back to visit," he said sadly.

"Do you miss him?"

He nodded again, happiness slipping away from his young face. Why do I torture the poor child?

"We were the only friends to each other. Other kids would either pick on us or ignore us most of the time. Billy and I used to make up stories, we used to imagine how our lives will be when we were both adopted."

"Well, now you don't have to imagine anymore," I told him, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But unlike our games, Billy is not here with me."

His tone made my heart sink.

"Let's go talk to mom and dad. I'm sure they can adopt him."

He pulled me down just as I was about to stand up and sat on my lap to make sure I wouldn't run away.

"NO! Josh, don't!"

"Why not?"

"Mom and dad need to save up for your tuition. There is no way they can afford to adopt another kid!" he reasoned.

"Yes they can," I argued. "I can get more money myself. I can try and apply for some scholarship or get a job on the side. So mom and dad will be able to adopt Billy. That way, you guys will be real brothers and can be happy."

Perhaps I shouldn't have told him that I'd get a job or that I'd pay for my own tuition. That may have added more guilt to how he already felt, having me sacrifice for his sake. But, I would really do anything for my little brother.

"No!" he insisted. "Josh, you need to focus on your studies! Promise me you won't say anything to mom and dad! I will help Billy on my own."

"Lucas..."

"Promise me, Josh!"

Anything. I'd do anything for him and that also meant promising him something and keeping it.

I sighed. "Promise."

That was my senior year at the Royal Academy of Music. I was one of the lucky few to have qualified to attend for musical performance. But, being an international student, the tuition wasn't exactly cheap even with scholarships. That year, Lucas was also sick a lot. Many visits to the hospital and medications put further strain on our family's financial status.

I pulled Lucas tighter as he sighed and sank into my chest. That was our first real summer and it was the best one we will ever have.

* * * * *

The piece ended and I let the last note linger as I held the damper open at full. Only the sound of the thunder in the distance pulled me back to reality. I looked out the window and saw the storm approaching quickly as the dark clouds rolled up from the distance. I sighed and laid my fingers on the keys once again.

It wasn't enough to just remember, it seemed. My longing went further than that. Severely detached from how I played my fingers across the keys, my thoughts craved for something...more tangible than just a memory. I wanted a presence. I needed his presence beside me once again.

Even those anxious arms of his when we saw him and told him the news of his adoption. Or his unsure smile as I knelt down in front of him and said, `Welcome to the family, little brother.' I wanted to hear his laughter, share his smiles and feel his embrace. I wanted Lucas to play the keys for me instead of me reaching out to him with a sullen and broken melody.

If he was listening right now, he would only feel sad and I would only make him worry. And whose fault was it?

Surely, it was mine.

I couldn't just move on and deal with it. That was well beyond denial and wishful thinking.

And so the keys sang for me, sharing the weight of the world on my shoulders.

* * * * *

It was exactly two years ago, this day. The rain was pouring like there was no tomorrow. My family and I sat in the hospital room as our Lucas, the god-sent angel to this world, laid on the hospital bed. Tubes and wires came out of his right arm into the machines that were displaying his degradation in all brutal clarity.

"Promise me, Josh?"

"What is it, buddy?"

"Please...please, will you promise?" His raspy voice didn't have to add more to my suffering. I've had enough just watching him lay there, besides knowing what he's gone through, staying always at his side.

"Lucas, you need to tell me what it is that I need to promise to you."

"I want you to donate all my things to that orphanage I came from, including all my money."

"Lucas..."

"Please, Josh. Promise me you'll do it." He was so determined. He was never a kid to take no for an answer. "All my savings and all my trust funds."

"Your money are yours, Lucas. You can donate them yourself."

Funny how denial and wishful thinking made you say things that you knew will not come true.

"I mean when I die, dumb dumb..."

"Lucas, you are not..."

"Josh, I'm twelve, not stupid! I know what's going on."

Sadness. I felt it, but it wasn't from what he said. He was clearly braver than me, venturing further into what will happen and already accepting it while I wallowed in denial and wishful thinking.

The room was freakishly silent. Mom had ran out because she could not bear the sight of this poor child suffering on his death bed knowingly and yet his only worry was the well-being of others.

"I know what it feels like to be alone and surrounded by people equally as lonely as you are. If you show them somehow, that somewhere, someone is thinking of them...it will mean the whole world to them. I know `cos I was there until I was adopted..."

The little angel sighed.

"If mom and dad are able to, please tell them about Billy? Please help him. He's so lonely up there. Now that I'm gone, he's truly going to be alone in this world."

He wasn't only venturing into the inevitable. He was already making it seem that it happened and was only here to remind us to be as brave as him. Even so, courage sometimes welled up so much that it made me cry as I held his free hand in mine.

"Promise you will help him, Josh? Please? For me?"

"I promise, lil bro, I promise," I assured him, taking one step toward the approaching reality and finding my own comfort in his acceptance of death.

That night, as the angels wept, Lucas left us. He looked peaceful in my arms as if he was sleeping most comfortably. The pain from the cancer and chemo treatments were all gone, leaving the only beautiful scar on his face – his own gentle and warm smile.

Our parents took Lucas' death hard. Mom had to see a psychologist for a whole year before she could sleep without dreaming of Lucas. I never told them about Billy. I didn't want the presence of Billy to remind them of Lucas. At their age, they no longer wish to go through the physical and emotional strain of caring for a small child. It's about time they started thinking about retirement. But, I made a promise to Lucas. I never broke any of my promises to my brother and I was not about to break this last one.

At one of my concerts in London, I met with the school board superintendent and to his surprise, I offered myself to the music teacher position at the orphanage school where Lucas was from. He was too happy to rid of the headache of looking for someone to fill the position. To my parents, it was my way of finding closure over Lucas' passing.

* * * * *

I closed my eyes and let the last note echo in the empty room once again. Tears streamed down my face and landed on the keys of the piano. I normally try as hard as I can not to let my emotions overwhelm me like this, but being here and knowing that this was part of Lucas' past made it hard to suppress my feelings.

A loud crack of thunder shook the building, a door slammed in the hall which made me jump and look towards the door. A frightened boy turned and took off down the hall. He was obviously peeking at the door. The blonde hair, thin arms and legs...the very presence of that boy...

Lucas...

To Be Continued...