by Diane Baumer
“You’re talking about the soloist, not about me. I’m certainly not my music. The person onstage is a mirage. Comparing myself to her and trying to reach her has been such an ordeal.”
Álvaro was impressed by her destructive frankness. However, deep down in his heart, he knew Lina was not wrong. Artists would often fall prey to their own art and end up devoured by it.
“I understand what you say – yet don’t underestimate yourself. You give it your brain, your energy, your sensitivity... You are the result of all this.”
She shook her head. No. I never had the strength, the brightness, or the consistency of a pianist. The gift took over my body and gave it to the music. Irrational as it may sound, I think that, in this eagerness to own me, it killed my loved ones, one right after the other. This shrewd gift of mine knew that, leaving me to the only comfort of my piano, I would entirely become its property. And that’s the way it exactly was. I gave it the glory as I was left out in guilt, fear, restlessness, and brokenness.
“Be honest – is there anything you see in me that reminds you of the concert woman?” she asked in contempt toward herself.
“I see that, if you were not so humble, your alter ego wouldn’t shine as honestly and neatly.”
Doctor Ledesma looked away from the window. He pictured himself taking the pianist for a ride in his paraglider, showing her how tiny we all look from above – from the reassuring, cloudless blue sky. I’m going to do what it takes for your arms to heal, Lina Maldonado. As soon as you get well, I know you’ll be happy to play again. You are like me. We both live tied to our vocation. In return, we give away our personal lives. Everything comes at a price – and that’s the one we had to pay.
Their silence was longer than a regular period of time. The absent-mindedness of the doctor unleashed Lina’s imagination. I disappointed him, and he doesn’t know what to do. Well, I want him to go away and leave me alone. Why does he keep staring at the sky like a dummy? Aren’t there any other patients he should be taking care of?
She began to feel trapped in that bed. Her inability to move left her with a suffocation feeling. The pianist closed her eyes. I’m not here – I’m running down the mountain, free in the middle of nature. Free like a goldfinch. She shuddered shyly as she sensed a slight disturbing caress on her distal phalanges, which could be seen among the bandages. This can’t be happening – he probably touched me unintentionally.
The doctor got up hastily and left before she could react.
Once he had completed his round of visits, the doctor locked himself in his office to examine, once again, the results of the pianist’s scan. There must be a way.
In an attempt to find inspiration, he would open and empty his mind.
He had been deep in thought for a while, his eyes set on the ornamental figure of Asclepius –the Greco-Roman god of medicine– on his table, when the phone rang. It was a colleague from New York from whom he had requested an opinion. Her answer was completely categorical.
“Impossible. There is no way she may recover from those injuries.”
Doctor Ledesma pressed his head between his hands, as if, by doing this, a solution could emerge from his brain any time. He consulted five other prestigious specialists. All provided him with a similar response. Another person in his situation would give up, yet that was not like him. Terminal patients would often ask him for advice, since he had a reputation for never surrendering. The doctor had designed some innovative techniques commonly used in reconstructive surgery. Worshiped by his patients yet execrated by some of his colleagues, he did not seem to care about either. Every human being has the right to live in a livable body. Any profession should strive for justice. Nobody deserves a wounded flesh or bones. Day after day, he would twist the verdict of the unfortunates by working longer hours and assisting a greater number of patients. That way, he would endanger his own welfare to give it to those who had lost it. Too big a cargo for a passenger boat. His wife had ended up throwing the divorce papers at him. She liked to say, ironically, she had met her husband on two occasions – both on the day of their wedding and on that of their divorce. The doctor’s other affairs with women had come to a similar end. He would admit he was to blame, regarding both his choice and the process. Except for his occasional physical times with Doctor Soriano, his life outside the hospital was confined to solitude, music, and a black-and-white paraglider. Whenever he felt low, his gadget would raise him under its wing so he would, paradoxically, remain with his feet on the ground.
Black and white, just like the piano keys... Now I understand.
He searched the Internet for Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 1. He came across Lina’s performance for The Proms22. That lively, rhythmic, delicate, majestic music had helped him save countless limbs. Everything seemed possible when he listened to it. He watched the concert three times in a row. It was really hard to recognize the shrunken, withdrawn patient back in the hospital in that powerful woman.
Though he had not still found a way, at that moment he received some inspiration. Lina's music may become my muse during her healing process.
25. The message
It had been over two hours since Belén had left for the cafeteria. Lina assumed her friend was speaking to Doctor Ledesma. They obviously seemed to be in tune. I can’t understand what she saw in him. That doctor looks a bit too egomaniac to me. I’m not implying he’s a bad person – yet that man goes through life with his exasperating self-assurance. I hope they won’t talk about me for so long. That’s certainly all I needed!
On that occasion, her prediction had proved wrong – contrary to her assumption, Belén had been waiting for someone very special. She entered the room followed by her husband. Once again, this was proof of how greatly generous she could be. No one as loyal and noble would prefer friendship to their own welfare.
Belén knew that Lina regarded Sergio as part of her own family. It would have been a shame if the former couple had broken their bond completely to avoid hurting her. Besides, if someone could persuade her stubborn friend to strive for recovery, that was him. Firstly, the pianist held him in high regard; secondly, Sergio Comares probably was one of the smoothest talkers in the history of law. There was no one better than him at sowing doubts in people’s minds.
“Making an irreversible life-long decision based on your specific mood is very risky. You’re now exhausted and confused, but… do you think you’ll be feeling like this forever? You never stopped playing before – how can you be so sure you won’t change your mind in the future? Then, if that happens… will you be able to forgive yourself? I know how much you’ve been through all these years. Someone else would probably have plummeted. Look at you, though – the spur of the piano kept you on your feet. Lina, you think you are a weak person because you’ve suffered. The way I see it, however, is quite the opposite – you are resilient enough to do this. If you refuse to be operated on, some day in the near future you’ll look at your atrophied hands and regret will set in, since you didn’t strive to save them.”
“The doctor told me he can’t assure everything will turn out right.”
“The human brain adapts to virtually any bad situation, yet not to uncertainty. Even if you don’t fully recover, it will help you overcome your loss. On the contrary, if you let your mind wander in doubt, sooner or later, it will start to wonder what would have happened if... and remorse will ruin you.”
Sergio decided to switch gears as soon as he noticed she was feeling weak. A seed of hesitancy had begun to sprout in the pianist’s soul. Watering that seed too much would have been counterproductive. He did not extend his visit for much longer – he did not intend to bore the patient.
Their farewell was strange. The same thought was roaming around everyone’s mind. That would probably be the last time the three of them would happen to be together. There would be no more dinners or trips together. Unless her daughter got married o
r something exceptional happened, their destinies had gone their separate ways for good.
The lawyer kissed Lina goodbye on her forehead, trying though to keep his distance from Belén. He felt uneasy. Not about her, but rather about himself. Leaving that woman behind was the most difficult decision he had made in his lifetime. He felt like a climber after abandoning his injured fellow adventurer in the middle of the mountain and then moving on. Sergio Comares walked out of the room, keeping his head down and quickening his pace as he approached the door.
Belén held her breath until he was gone.
“Didn’t you see how aged he looks now?” she said in a frivolous tone, in an attempt to dispel tension.
“I was hardly able to recognize his voice,” Lina replied, going along with her.
The two looked at each other with affection.
“Tomorrow I’ll let Doctor Ledesma know of my consent,” Lina said.
“Are you serious? You just made me the happiest woman on earth! I love you, I’m so proud of you.”
“Please, don’t say that you love me. It makes me scared.”
“Oh, my silly little girl...” Belén said before kissing her forehead.
26. Return
On the day of the surgery the sky was gray, which in Lina’s view foreshadowed an approaching disaster. I shouldn’t have let them talk me into this. How could I leave my fate in the hands of this doctor without seeking advice from other experts? I acted thoughtlessly accepting the operation against my own intuition, which clearly told me not to make this torment last any longer. Also, considering the strange circumstances surrounding my accident, I feel I was punished. That’s for sure. I cursed my hands. They just won’t recover. I’m sure they won’t. If I try to carry on, more misfortunes will be on their way.
Alarmed by such an ill omen, the pianist insisted that Belén request her voluntary discharge from hospital. The latter, unable to redress her friend’s unreason, lost her nerves.
“Did you hear what you just said? These are the kind of thoughts an ignorant cavewoman would have, not you, Lina Maldonado.”
The pianist remained as stubborn as a mule. There was no way Belén could get her over her fixation. She even said that her abandoning music would keep Belén away from death, since they were friends. The physicist lost patience.
“Leave me out of this. Don’t get me involved in your obsessions. I’ll die someday – there’s nothing I can do about it! Actually, I could picture yourself burying a ninety-year-old me and blaming a curse for my death...”
She was about to surrender when the phone rang. It was Brother Lucas. Belén sighed with relief. Now we’ll see if he manages to persuade her.
“I’m so happy to hear you. You just called at the right time,” she said, raising her voice as she tried to embarrass her obstinate friend.
“Hi, Belén! How are you doing? I didn’t mean to interrupt – just stopped by to give our best wishes to Lina. We are all praying for the best.”
“Don’t waste your time. Apparently, now she doesn’t want to be cured. Lina just decided not to undergo her operation. She's going to throw away her future on a whim.”
If a simple glance could strike like lightning, Belén Molina would have collapsed at that very moment. The pianist was furious. Who does she think she is to try to get the friar involved in such a way?
“She takes advantage of the fact that I can’t move. This hard-headed woman acts like a steamroller – she will trample on me and then try to make me look like a fool in front of everyone else.”
The friar tried to soothe the atmosphere in the room.
“Don’t say that. You will see how she will eventually think things over. There is nothing wrong about being a little scared before an operation.”
Overwhelmed by helplessness and discouragement, Belén could not help to let off steam. Of course. Also, don’t just stare at me like that, Lina. How passionately you insist on destroying your own life!
Brother Lucas thought to himself that such anxiety could only be due to how fond they were of each other. “A faithful friend is something beyond price, no sum can balance his worth. A faithful friend is a life-saving remedy, such as he who fears God finds.”23
“Calm down, please.”
“Make her come to her senses, I beg you.”
Brother Lucas hesitated. He was afraid of making things worse if he decided to interfere. In addition, his physical weakness slowed down his mental alertness. How was he supposed to get her out of a hole when he happened to be inside another? My God, I am feeling so much pressure right now! Help me find the right words.
Belén left her phone on the pillow.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Lina muttered, but her friend ignored her and walked out of the room.
Sometimes she really gets on my nerves. How embarrassing that was... Why did she tell him I don’t want to undergo my operation? When you put it like that, it may sound stupid, but I do have my reasons.
In search of inspiration, Brother Lucas remembered the moment he had first seen Lina. Surrounded by a halo of pain, she had walked toward him, attracted by his powerful voice.
His silence was understood by the pianist as a sign of annoyance. He’s disappointed in me. I wish I could close my eyes and vanish from sight. Why won’t life give me a break? That’s what I need – I need some peace...
Thanks to the so-called spontaneous reminiscence, her hapless mind reproduced the lied which the Mexican had performed brilliantly that day. You Are Rest and Peace. That's just what I need.
On the other end of the line, Brother Lucas cleared his throat as if that would clear his mind.
“Lina, if you surrender, nothing will make sense anymore. You survived. Millions of people aren’t as lucky. Don’t feel intimidated. What could I do to encourage you?”
“I would like to hear once more the Schubert lied you sang on the mountain.”
“Oh, really?” he asked in surprise.
Brother Lucas overcame his inborn shyness, so Lina was able to hear that voice again... The voice of his father... Of his father inside the friar... Of happy times... Of the dead... Of life...
You are the calm,
The restful peace:
You are my longing and
What makes it cease.
With passion and pain
To You I give
My eye and heart
Are Yours to live.
Enter here and close
Quietly behind You
The gates of Your
Gentle embrace.
All other grief
You dispel from my breast:
My heart swells
With the love of You.
Your brightness alone
Lights the canopy of my eyes
Oh, fill it fully!
During the last stanza, the stretcher bearers came for her. Lina did not resist. In the hall, Belén was anxiously walking back and forth when she saw her friend. I hope this is the right thing to do. If something happens to her, remorse will kill me. Not a single word was exchanged between them. Lina did not even notice clouded-eyed Belén.
When the pianist saw Doctor Ledesma in the operating room, she was seized by an irrational feeling of abashment. Lina did not want to succumb to consciousness before that man; she did not want him to handle her arms either, absurd though it may seem, since he was a doctor. However, this is how she felt, as though the situation somehow implied subjection and an unlimited transfer of her own privacy.
He approached her carrying the comforting remedy, but she instinctively gave him the hard shoulder, shying away from his eyes. Why did I do that? Well, it doesn’t matter. In the end, he got what he wanted. I am here. Now, the surgeon will start playing his role as my saving hero.
All this criticism vanished under the influence of an ear
ly dose. Next, trying to overcome confusion, her eyes started searching for him.
“Doctor Ledesma...” she mumbled drowsily before falling soundly asleep.
The operation lasted for six hours. When it finished, Doctor Ledesma’s eyes were so irritated that even their natural blinking would give him an excruciating sting. It had gone smoothly, at least initially. Almost certainly, the patient would regain her arm mobility. Her fingers, though, would need to wait.
Deep inside, Lina felt grateful for Doctor Ledesma’s excellence as a surgeon. His constant attention, his careful explaining of every step needed, his commitment to her recovery... As Belén liked to say effusively, her friend could not have ended up in better hands. Even so, there was something imposing about him. Maybe it had something to do with his rough ways... Even when he tried his best to look pleasant! How would that man be in a fury? She’d better not find out.
Every day, Lina would take the medicinal infusions which the friars prepared for her. Either for their ingredients or for the love they had been made with, or maybe as a result of a placebo effect, the concoction succeeded in soothing her pain. On their last visit, the physical deterioration of Brother Lucas had been alarming. As per Lina’s request, Doctor Ledesma talked to him. The Mexican would say his appearance had come as a result of the flu.