Dylan feels different. He does not feel like the other boys in his old school and there lies his dilemma, he would have liked friends at school. A good friend would have been someone who spoke about and listened to Mozart. He feels isolated and vulnerable and he understands this is why he was bullied at school.
It is awkward for Dylan to initiate and sustain friendships. This has made him feel lonely and frustrated.
Dylan is aware he often misreads social situations, and he struggles to understand that the things he is interested in are not necessarily shared by others. Everyone should like Mozart, Dylan thinks.
He has developed a system where all his Mozart CDs are divided into corresponding categories - piano concertos, violin sonatas, symphonies… all are ordered and catalogued into their chronological dates. This attention to detail makes sense to Dylan, yet in life, he struggles to plan, to choose, to prioritise or even organise and carry out simple tasks.
At times, Dylan struggles to understand his own behaviour, yet, he can also have a deep insight into how the environment affects his behaviour. He is acutely aware, as it has been pointed out to him on countless occasions by Georgia, that he lacks the ability to appreciate other people’s mental states or the knowledge they may possess. This tendency to impose his unswerving perspective leads to conflict. Dylan has described this as his ‘firewall’ and if he believes something is right, or he has an opinion, it will be difficult for him to sway from that thought process and for others to penetrate his ‘firewall.’
His inflexible thinking is also an attribute; it coats Dylan in a veneer of unshifting principles: he is always truthful, honest, punctual, what you see is what you get, there is no in between.
Dylan’s school has been an unwanted testament to his difficulties in reading deception, making sense of humour and being aware when others are teasing him. Dylan struggles to understand others’ perspectives or even pick up on the emotions that others portray in conversation or through facial expressions. His teachers perceived him as insensitive or naïve, depending on the circumstance. Now he is older, he can recognise the ‘big’ emotions, such as happy, sad and angry, it’s the subtle ones, the kind that need intuition, an awareness of other people’s body language in context or in the moment, that he seems blind to.
Dylan often cares about the feelings of others; it matters to him that his mother is happy or sad. What Dylan can’t read is whether she is perplexed or dissatisfied, such emotions are too complex for him, in such instances, her face becomes a mask.
When Dylan was much younger, his literal interpretation of language was such that innocent everyday phrases like, ‘He is the apple of my eye’ and ‘Broken heart’ evoked such emotional reactions and confusion that they caused several public meltdowns, often to Georgia’s embarrassment.
Sometimes Dylan finds it impossible to read the intentions and motives of people around him. Dylan cannot predict their behaviours or at times, even give reasons for his own. In Dylan’s world, the instinctive flow that is social interaction is a maze of confusing words preceded by expressions, gestures and rules he now knows, through experience, influence how others think and feel.
The younger Dylan would often interrupt others and dominate conversations, with little regard to showing an interest in or questioning the person he was talking to. These conversations usually contained Dylan constantly talking about Mozart in sophisticated language. During these monologues, he rarely secured eye contact and was blind to the body language of the other person. He was never aware if the person was listening, and he was oblivious to their use of facial expressions and gestures that may have showed their displeasure or annoyance.
Dylan likes Adam, this new person in his life, who understands these things.
Chapter 18
On a Boat (The Gift)
The lessons are taught in a room on the ground floor of the house. Georgia insists that visiting this room each day will accommodate Dylan’s need for routine, which has been absent since their arrival. For most of the morning, a large window bathes the room in light, from which they can see the garden and forested hills, silhouetted against the sky. Adam has set up his laptop and the printer Georgia bought in Corfu Town. Daily timetables are devised, each with allocated time that allows Dylan several fifteen minutes
periods to listen to Mozart. Each day, when the lessons finish, Dylan goes to the far reaches of the garden, past the vegetable patch and disappears into the thicket of trees.
Adam has found Dylan a pleasure to teach. At first, Dylan spent his time completing his work in silence, only speaking to answer a question, but gradually Dylan has eased into Adam’s company.
The lessons are scheduled for the morning and Adam has the rest of the day to himself. It has taken him two days to construct the fence and gate around the vegetable patch. He has found working in the late afternoon more amenable as the heat of the day subsides and a draping shade from the trees protects him from the sun.
On one occasion Elena passed, herding her goats, one of which broke free, scuttling down the embankment towards Adam, and sniffing curiously at the ground. Adam shooed it away, unlike the discordant glare from Elena, as he felt another curse thrown at him; all the same, he is pleased with himself.
Adam has formed a communal bond with the chess players at the Kafenion. Most afternoons, he wanders into the village and takes his seat at the table where there is always the same empty seat awaiting him and a cup of steaming black coffee next to the chess board. His chess playing has improved, although he is still no match for the studios Father Nikolaos, who wins every game he plays.
Adam has learnt that Thanos, who is often stretching and yawning, is a fisherman. He takes his small boat out each morning at dawn and unloads his catch by midday, which he sells to the local restaurants and tavernas. Giannis, owns the local grocery store, although as far as Adam can tell, it is always his wife, Eva, who is behind the counter and often berating him to her regular customers, who nod their heads sympathetically and make their purposeful excuses to guarantee a quick exit. Midas is a postman, tall and skinny with dark shadows under his eyes; he is often still wearing his postman’s uniform when they meet. Midas has an aversive fear of dogs, ever since he got the tip of his finger bitten off.
As the weeks pass, Adam has grown fond of their companionship; it is an emotional attachment he never expected to find. He has settled into the routine and looks forward to joining this mixed band of chess players most afternoons. He has become a familiar sight to the other villagers, who visit or pass the Kafenion. Many of them nod a greeting; others stop to talk to Father Nikolaos or Giannis, who always introduce him as Adam, the teacher.
‘Do you like fishing Adam?’ Nikolaos asks, holding a pawn over the board, contemplating his move.
‘I’ve not been fishing since I was a boy.’
‘We’re going out tomorrow morning in Thanos’ boat. You’re welcome to come.’
‘I don’t have a rod.’
‘No problem.’ Thanos smiles, ‘I’ll bring an extra one.’
‘It’s my day off tomorrow. What time are you going?’
‘It’s an early start, seven o’clock.’
The next morning, Adam wakes early and, after breakfast, he strolls down the lane to the village and thinks, with pleasant anticipation, about his day ahead. He inhales deeply, his senses stimulated. There is something extraordinary about the quality of light at this time of day. A soft, subdued pastel hue hovers amongst the trees and a huddle of houses, as the village draws near. The sun has not cleared the hills, its luminous light skirts the tops of trees that lurk in charcoal shadows. As he walks further, his eyes gleam, as a scattering of skeletal clouds proliferate the sky in orange, purple and lilac, infused like a furnace. It takes his breath away.
When he reaches the boat, Thanos invites him on board. Adam can see it is a working boat, the paint peels and there is rust here and there.
‘What do you think Adam? Have you ever seen a more impressive boat?’ Thano
s grins, as he assembles the fishing rods.
Not wanting to offend his friend, Adam is economical with the truth. ‘She certainly looks the part, a good boat for going fishing in… Where’s Nikolaos?’ he says offhanded.
‘He’s babysitting Midas,’ Giannis moans, as he empties small silver fish into a bucket. ‘Midas has overslept, he was out last night, I told Nikolaos we should go without him, but Nikolaos was having none of it and off he went.’
‘There they are.’ Thanos nods.
When Nikolaos and Midas reach the boat, Thanos has uncoupled the ropes and cranked up the engine.
‘You look like shit.’ Giannis frowns.
‘I feel like it,’ Midas mumbles and crumples into a seat, cradling his head.
Nikolaos slaps Adam on the back. ‘Kalimera Adam. How are you this morning?’
‘Better than Midas I think.’
‘He’ll be fine once he has one of these. Fishing’s thirsty work.’ Nikolaos opens a hatch on the deck. Inside it’s full of bottles of Mythos (Greek beer) that drip water, like condensation. Adam realises it’s a cool box.
The water laps against the boat as it moves away from the small harbour and gathers speed. Adam can already feel the sun’s heat on his neck as the horizon wobbles like liquid.
‘How far are we going?’ Adam asks.
‘That depends on where the fish are. I track them with my sonar,’ Thanos says proudly.
After fifteen minutes Thanos silences the engine. ‘We’ll try here.’
Colour has returned to Midas’ face. He has spent the time in silence, abandoned, barely lifting his head. Now he stands, looking surprisingly refreshed.
‘You must have had a bucket load last night,’ Giannis scorns.
‘I was sober; I only had a few beers and some wine before I went out.’
‘Not your classic definition of sober then,’ Giannis says.
‘I remember everything about last night,’ Midas says defensively.
‘So, how did you get home?’ Thanos asks.
‘Ah, everything except that part.’
‘You were slumped against your front door, the key in the lock, unopened. It took two of us to get you into bed. It was fortunate I was passing,’ Nikolaos says.
‘What are friends for? Thank you all the same,’ Midas says impishly.
‘It’s part of the job description.’ Nikolaos smiles.
‘Come on, the fish won’t hang around forever.’ Thanos passes the rods out, impatient to start. ‘Now Adam, you remember how to fish? You don’t need to cast too far; it’s not a competition to see who can cast the furthest. Nice and gentle.’
They catch a lot of fish, so much so, that their initial elation fades and even the enjoyment of it deserts them after a while. They spend the rest of the morning drinking beer, except Nikolaos who drinks water from a bottle. After two cans, Adam feels the alcohol numb his head and decides to drink water.
‘You don’t want to dehydrate Adam. Good choice,’ Nikolaos offers.
Adam closes his eyes. His head feels fuzzy against the gentle sway of the boat, ‘There’s nothing worse than a hangover, especially in the afternoon. Water will do me fine.’
‘Unfortunately, that lot are not as wise.’ Nikolaos stands and stretches his legs. ‘Once again, I’ll be taking us back.’
‘I wondered about that. Thanos has drunk quite a bit,’ Adam says.
A burst of laughter erupts from Thanos and Giannis who, smiling broadly ruffles Midas’ hair.
‘They’ve made up,’ Adam says.
‘They’re worse than a married couple,’ Nikolas says, and he starts the engine.
Adam is aware, as Nikolaos steers the boat towards the shore, this is the first time he has seen his friend without his black tunic. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt and in this moment he looks ordinary, he could be anybody.
‘You look different today Nikolaos. I was trying to figure out why and it’s just struck me.’
Nikolaos bends forward, picks up the water bottle and takes a drink. ‘What is it then?’
‘You don’t look like a priest.’
‘Ah, my cassock. I’m off duty.’ Nikolaos smiles.
‘Why do you have to wear it, anyway?’
‘It’s all about the symbolism. Black is the colour of death, so I’m dying in order to rise and serve the Lord. It reminds me I die to the world every day and immerse myself in the teachings of the church. It’s the flag of the church… it also hides stains.’ Nikolaos points to a small stain on his t-shirt and laughs.
‘That’s the difference. Without the outward symbolism that identifies someone being a priest. You could be anybody. You could still be the teacher in Thessaloniki.’
‘Some days I wish I was, but not often. I’ve found my place in the world. I’m still a priest, but in ordinary clothes. What about you Adam? That was a big decision you made, leaving a good job and heading into the unknown.’
‘Mine only lasts for three months; yours is a lifetime.’
‘Maybe so, but yours could be life changing. Imagine wakening up to this. Every morning is a gift.’ He gestures with his hand. ‘Have you found your place in the world?’
‘Before a few months ago, I thought I had.’
Adam looks around, they’re heading towards the shore and he can see the houses of the village grow in detail with each passing minute. He finds the contrast between the green vegetation and the azure sky striking. The water reflects a glass image of the village and land, delicately balanced to perfection. Adam looks like he has found a valuable treasure soaked in sunshine. A gift.
Chapter 19
Mozart’s Mind Map
‘I’ve got a sore head. I need a drink of water.’ Dylan disappears into the kitchen. When he returns, he is holding a glass of water. He sits down and takes a long drink.
‘Ten more minutes until your break,’ Adam says looking up from the laptop screen.
Dylan shakes his head. ‘I think you get a sore head when you’re dehydrated. When there’s no fluid between your brain and skull, your brain bounces off your skull and gives you a sore head. When you drink water, it fills the space and stops your head from feeling sore.’ He takes another drink and his expression seems to ease.
Adam raises his eyebrows. ‘You need to drink lots of water in this weather. It’s a bit warm in here today.’
Adam opens the doors into the garden and immediately it feels as if he has opened them into another world. The light slides into the room and Dylan watches him for a moment. It occurs to Adam that he has not thought of home for some time.
‘Do you miss Edinburgh, Dylan?’
Dylan purses his lips. ‘I miss my room.’
‘What do you miss about your room?’ Adam returns to his seat.
‘I talk to people online.’
‘Who?’
‘There is a group of us, we all like Mozart. We found each other on various blogs and soon we were having group chats.’
‘How many people are in the group?’
‘There are five of us.’
‘Do they stay in Edinburgh?’
‘Oh no, actually they live all over the world.’
‘Really, whereabouts?’
‘Josh and Amanda live in America, Boston and New York, Zak lives in Brisbane, Australia, Liam is in Oxford and Rasheed lives in Bradford.’
‘Wow, that’s a diverse bunch. How often do you meet up, I mean, speak online?’
‘Every night. We can see each other on the screen.’
‘And do you think of these people as your friends?’
‘Of course, they are.’ Dylan does not look at Adam’s eyes when Adam speaks to him. Instead, he concentrates on Adam’s mouth, watching his lips part and glimpses of his teeth. He finds it uncomfortable to look into another’s eye, he can’t explain why.
‘But you have not met them?’
‘No, but we know lots about each other.’
‘Do you have friends at home?’
‘T
here are so many things to do to make friends, so much work, it’s stressful remembering to contact people I’ve not spoken to in a while and it’s difficult, not natural. There is a pressure of figuring out what you have to say. What if I’m not interesting? It feels natural to go online and speak. I don’t have to work out what to say, you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. On Vent or Skype, anyone can jump in; it’s not like two people just sitting there trying to figure out what to say.’
‘So you speak to your friends online here?’
‘Yes, but it doesn’t feel the same. At home I’m surrounded by my things, my room, I feel secure.’
Adam stands and walks towards the opened doors, pondering a thought. ‘I think we will start a project. How would you feel if I said it could be about anything you wanted?’
‘That would be amazing. It would be about Mozart of course.’
‘I never thought it would be anything else.’
Dylan smiles broadly, his headache no longer an intrusion on his thoughts. It’s the first time Adam has seen him so animated, as if some wonderful thing has leapt inside him.
‘We’ll start off by doing a mind map. Do you know what that is?’
‘No, but I’ve already got lots of ideas about what I’m going to do.’
‘Good, you’ll need them.’
Adam takes a sheet of paper and sits beside Dylan. He draws a large circle and writes Mozart in the middle of it.
‘Now, what we need to do is start to think about the different parts of Mozart’s life, from when he was young until he died. So we can start with his family, who they were, where they lived, what did they do?’
‘That’s easy. I know all of that.’
From the circle, Adam draws a small line and writes “Family”’ He then draws another and writes “Mozart’s early years”
Within half an hour, the paper is covered with headings, subheadings and scribbled notes.
‘There, that’s your mind map done.’
‘It looks a lot when it’s written down.’
‘That’s ok. I’ll put it in your timetable for each day. There’s plenty of time. You don’t have to have it finished for a certain time.’
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