The Missing Piece of a Piano By: Sean Roberts
Author's Note: All feedback is very much appreciated -- please send to seanr_13@yahoo.ca
Bar 3
He looks forward to the days he will see Faye. They have only the one class together, and for the first month they have practiced only the Tchaikovsky.
He loves it when she makes a mistake. She opens her mouth and makes a sound like she is shocked, and then laughs it off with him. It gives him the opportunity to give her attention-- the same attention he would get from Keith whenever he made a mistake.
He sits on a chair beside the piano bench during class. He has become accustomed to watching her long fingers travel across the keys, occasionally missing a sharp. He sees the slightly hunched shape of her back when she is playing; the way she sits because she is slightly too tall to properly see the music and press the keys when sitting on a bench of this height. But the position of her shoulders is perfect. When she plays she keeps her legs beside each other, apart just enough so she has proper access to the pedals, which he notices she often presses too hard.
September is coming to a close and he takes his usual seat. Faye is already there, playing a basic scale to warm up. When everybody is seated Mr. Klein announces that they are starting the Mozart. "You're all doing really well with the Tchaikovsky," he says, "but I think we should try out all of the pieces. That way, we'll be able to give more attention to the ones that give us the most trouble." Faye turns to Daniel and smiles.
"I guess it's finally your turn then," she says happily. She stands to accommodate him. He does not smile because he does not want to play.
He feels self conscious after he sits in front of the piano he has only played only once before. It is now her turn to watch him, and he realizes the discomfort she must have felt all this time he was watching her, if she noticed. He determinedly does not look at her. Whether she is watching him or not he doesn't want to know. He busies himself with opening the music and adjusting his position on the bench. He wiggles his fingers above the keys and then plays a quick, soft scale.
Daniel looks up, keeping his eyes on Mr. Klein, not daring to look at Faye even from the corner of his eye. The class is ready; Mr. Klein's hands are in the air. Daniel, without looking, places his hands on the keys. He has already read through the first bar; the notes are in his head. The conducting starts and Daniel's fingers do not move. He has to use his wrists to force down his fingers. His worst fear right now is not the fact that he won't be able to play, but having to explain why, especially to Faye.
He glances at the music and then back at Mr. Klein and then back at the music. He wants to play at the right tempo but he has not memorised the notes. He remembers that Faye is beside him, and again he wonders if she is watching. He darts his eyes to his right, and downwards. He catches a glimpse only of her legs, which today are covered in dark blue jeans.
He looks up and realizes he is nearing the end of the bar at the bottom of the page on the right. He needs both hands to play to the end but he needs one of them to turn the page. At just the right moment an arm reaches forwards and turns it for him. He turns to Faye and gives her a quick smile. She smiles back and he looks at the sheet to continue playing. He is very thankful for the small courtesy he has never thought to pay her.
He has made a daily routine of greeting Doris, searching for a piece, and then retreating to one of the desks on the second floor that looks out of a window. He enjoys the view of this wooded town. He does not look up once he starts reading a piece, but before he starts and after he finishes he watches for a few minutes the trees and the leaves, whether they are still or blowing about.
Today his parents have asked him to pick up dinner so he does not go to the library immediately after school. He gets the food and does some homework until his parents get back from work. They eat together and after the meal he tells them he is going to the library to study. He knows that ever since Keith died they have wanted him to get back into music. They made it a point to tell him that the piano, which came with the house is tuned and ready to play. They probably would have mentioned the violin too, but like Daniel, they have not seen it since Keith's death. Daniel has not told them that he is taking music in school.
Doris asks him why he is so late today. "Had to get dinner. What time do you close by the way?"
"Oh, well I'm here until seven. But the other librarian comes in then, and we stay open until eleven. We decided to stay open so late because a lot of kids like to come and study at night."
In the basement he decides to listen to a Bach. Just beside the B is the cabinet for C, where he knows he will probably find a multitude of works by Frédéric Chopin. Every day that he is there he thinks about looking in that cabinet and selecting a piece. Chopin was Keith's favourite composer; Chopin was what Keith would play expertly for Daniel. When Daniel was learning, from Keith, how to play the piano, he never ventured into Chopin because he knew that playing these pieces badly would not go over well with Keith.
He takes the piece to his seat by the window. By now he has discovered why the shelves and the desks are arranged so confusingly. It provides quiet. Each desk has enough shelves around it, at various odd angles, to afford it privacy. He can smell the newness of the library. The mahogany shelves, oak desks and pine floors give off the odour of freshly polished wood--the smell of new violins. He still remembers two of these: the one his parents bought him when he was eight and the one Keith made him whose scent has never left his senses.
He opens the piece as he looks out the window. He is not used to seeing the darkening, navy blue sky because he is normally there before that. He glances at his watch. In thirty minutes the sky will turn black. While he is reading the hands he sees a bold, typed word--Chopin--below him. He puts away his left hand and looks again at the sheet.
'Chopin. Nocturne 19, Opus 72, No. 1.'
He flips back the page and sees Bach. There is a second booklet inserted into Bach's piece. He takes it out and pushes the Bach aside. There is something familiar about the title of the Chopin piece.
He is dying to read it but he is scared of what the notes might do to him. He thinks about it for a few moments before bending his head down over the desk and reading the score.
He imagines the first note, then the next. He lifts his head slightly so that he can see the right and left hands simultaneously. He is used to reading for the violin.
As the music starts to play in his mind, a memory begins to build up. He is in Keith's music room. Keith is lying on his stomach on the floor, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt; writing on something in front of him. Daniel is sitting on the couch, sipping a glass of juice. But what is Keith writing? The juice is no longer in his hands and he lies beside Keith, putting his left hand under Keith's pants, feeling Keith's skin. Keith turns and smiles at Daniel.
"Can I see what you've done so far?" Daniel asks. Suddenly Daniel hears something fall, followed by a loud, whispered expletive. His hand jerks out of Keith's pants; his mind out of the piece. He turns to the left, the direction of the sound. He is angry. He stands, wanting to investigate the source of the interruption. When he walks away from his desk he leaves the memory inside the sheet.
He walks around the shelves and desks until he sees her. Faye. Her elbows are resting on the desk; her head is in her hands. Today her hair is not in a bun but hanging loosely about her head. It is the first time he has seen her hair like this, and he finds it beautiful. He is no longer angry.
"You have curly hair," he wants to say to her. Instead he says her name. She looks up at him and smiles.
"Daniel! Hi!" The smile leaves her face. "Did I disturb you? I'm really sorry. I dropped my notebook, and then I hit my head on this stupid desk when I tried to pick it up. Today really isn't my day." He does not understand how somebody so beautiful can be upset. But even though she is not smiling, her mouth, when open, has an upwards curve, as if the only natural expression for it is happiness.
"Yes, I mean no, of course you didn't. I just heard a noise so I came to see what happened."
"It's this dumb essay. You know the Macbeth one for English? Don't get me wrong Daniel, Shakespeare is good, but this one's got witches in it. How dumb is that?"
"So you don't believe in magic?" She laughs. He does not really know why he said that. "The review questions she gave us for each chapter helped a lot. Good luck."
"Thanks. Daniel, listen, before I forget ... I know you're new in town, and I've been meaning to tell you--I just never had the chance--if you want someone to show you around and stuff one day, I could do it! I've lived here my whole life you know?"
He is glad that she is smiling again.
"I'd like that Faye, thanks."
"Sure. So see you in school tomorrow then?"
"Yeah. Good night." Daniel walks away, smiling. He forgets about the memory and the music. He closes his eyes after he climbs into bed. Her face is the only thing in his mind. He has not stopped smiling and as he tries to remember every detail of her face, he realizes that one of the reasons she is so beautiful is that there is no makeup hiding her features.