Forbidden Melody

by Magnolia Robbins

  Her hair had been cropped short. She’d asked to sit with me. Under the tree. I couldn’t recall what we had talked about, only the feeling I’d felt when I left her. Such relief, as if a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The song trickled in and out of my mind. It was in pieces, but familiar. She’d been so young and innocent. We’d both been so lonely and sad.

  Trés belle. I remembered those words whispering from my mouth. Her lips on mine in a short tender moment. How she’d tasted like Miranda’s favorite strawberry wine.

  I felt myself slipping from reality. My attention fell back on my playing. It became mechanical. It was all I could do to force myself to continue to breathe as the song drew to a close. I let her finish the last few measures.

  My body moved without thought once we’d finished. The crowd was clapping, but my mind was louder than the sounds that filled the theater. I walked straight from the stage, not looking back to Emma. Not stopping until I’d made it outside the building. It was chilly outside. I had left my jacket with Miranda at my seat. The weather wasn’t the best for my instrument, but at that point I didn’t care. My feet moved without thinking straight to the Bito. Through the halls to an empty practice room. It wasn’t until I’d settled down that breaths drew slowly out of me.

  Then I did the only thing I could. The only thing that kept my sanity in moments when the world was a whirlwind around me. When I couldn’t catch up to my thoughts. When nothing made sense and my mind wouldn’t calm. I put the Vuillaume to my shoulder and drew my bow to the strings. The room disappeared. It was just me. Just me and the one thing that gave me comfort in that moment. Two breaths. A small moment of silence. And then I played.

  20

  Emma

  Franz Liszt, La Campanella

  Elgar, Salut d'Amour

  Addio di Mimi, La bohème

  Think of Me, Phantom of the Opera

  THE FEEL OF JULIET’S lips on mine lingered as I made my way backstage. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever remember that night or if it would only be my memory alone. It had been such a nice evening, just the two of us. There had been no expectations, no worry. Just two strangers, confiding in one another. A stranger that I thought I’d never see again.

  My performances were an hour into the showcase. Juliet went on first with the graduate student that had been at my auditions. Annette, I think her name had been. I watched from the wings, unable to see them clearly enough to make out what they were playing, but curious enough to watch. Juliet occasionally looked up at me. When they finished, she disappeared on the other side of the stage. Likely for good reason, I imagined. The longer we stayed near one another, the worse these feelings became.

  After our moment in the hall, I didn’t know how much longer I could take.

  As promised, I played La Campanella for Miranda. I imagined the expression on her face as I played the familiar opening notes. The song required a great deal of focus, which had been part of the reason I’d selected it. I’d been torn minutes before, if I would play Metamorphosis instead, but at last minute I’d changed my mind. It had been too hard to focus on anything other than those few minutes with Juliet in the hallway. I wanted to enjoy this moment on the stage, in front of my peers. The first time I’d perform at as big of a venue as Sossnoff Theater. As soon as the allegro portion began, my fingers flew across the keys in a blur. It was a deceptively complicated song. One of which I’d practiced, but still could have stumbled through.

  The world disappeared around me. All I could feel were the rapid succession of notes beneath my fingertips. I focused intently on the lower register, making out even the smallest vibrations. The song wrapped around me, and I became the notes themselves in every sense of the word.

  It was a short piece, five minutes long. When I finished, I noticed the crowd had gotten to their feet. When I turned towards Miranda and the group, I saw Timothy whistling for me, and laughed. A few short moments later, Juliet had entered the stage. We couldn’t keep our attention off of one another.

  My mind had been made up as I was waiting in the halls to perform. I’d found the sheet music in my bag, and made a copy of it in the library of the conservatory. By the time I’d made it back, it was nearly time for me to perform. When I handed the spare sheet music to Juliet, she gave me a funny smile after she’d seen what it was. We readied ourselves, and I watched as she began after my introduction.

  As usual she was mesmerizing, and I was lost in her. It wasn’t until midway through the song that I started to realize something was wrong. Juliet had become rigid in her motions. Where she usually bowed with her entire body, she’d stiffened. Everything about her had become mechanical. She lacked any sort of emotion. The expression on her face was one of confusion. I did my best to focus as we finished up the song. Before I had a chance to follow her off the stage, she took off in a fury. I’d tried to find her afterwards, she was nowhere in the building.

  Lydia was waiting for me in the wing of the stage when I finally returned. I could tell by the way she was fidgeting in place, she was nervous. She’d always been a bundle of energy before performances. I landed beside her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.

  You’re going to do great, I signed, smiling at her as she turned her attention towards me. Lydia nodded, likely too nervous to think of anything to respond with. Finally, we moved onstage, and I walked to the center, taking my place at the L model Steinway once more.

  Lydia situated herself across from me, so I had a clear view of her as she performed. She’d chosen an aria from La Boheme and “Think of Me” from Phantom of the Opera to sing for the evening. I set up the sheet music for the first piece along the stand on the piano. Once I’d settled, I gave a nod to Lydia. The first few chords of the piano rippled out of my fingertips as I ran my fingers up and down the keys. When I looked back up at Lydia, she began.

  I had plenty on my mind in that moment, but Lydia captivated me completely when she sang. She was full of such emotion. Such vivid passion. It was hard to look away from her, and I knew the notes I was playing so well, I didn’t have to. She stayed in place on the stage, but her body moved to the emotions she was conveying through the song. Even though I couldn’t hear her, I could feel her, in every fiber of my being.

  As I’d predicted, Lydia received a standing ovation for her rendition of “Think of Me.” I’d told her to perform it as her closing number, and I hadn’t been wrong. The audience had gone crazy over her, and rightfully so. Lydia smiled at me as we both took a bow before exiting the stage. Once we’d made it behind the curtain, I turned to look at her.

  You were fantastic, I signed, breathless from the intensity of the performance.

  You called it, Lydia replied and then she hugged me tightly. When we parted, she looked somewhat sad. I can’t believe that was our last performance together.

  We’ll perform together again, I promised, reaching out to take her hand. We stood there briefly, enjoying the rush of performing. There was nothing quite like it. I only wished Juliet had been there to see the rest of it.

  The thought of her had me distracted. I looked up at Lydia. I need to go. I signed to her. There wasn’t a particular place I had in mind to look for her. In fact, I was starting to believe she had left without so much as a goodbye, which had me worried.

  “Is everything okay?” A hint of concern breached Lydia’s face. I nodded in reply. “I’ll see you later?”

  “Of course.” I smiled softly. “You really were fantastic.”

  “So were you,” Lydia replied, returning the smile. As soon as she had, I turned away from her and darted through the side doors of the theater out into the hallway.

  Something compelled me to leave the theater building. To trek my way across the small campus to the Bito, where the practice rooms were held. I didn’t quite understand why, but if Juliet had still been at the Bard, it was the only place I could think to find her.

  The lights were on in the hallway of the building. Normally, I wo
uldn’t have been surprised, but it was the fall recital, so the likelihood students were practicing was very small. I wandered inside, finding most of the practice rooms barren and dark. I was about to turn around when I noticed the last room in the hallway was lit. My heart paused in my chest as I looked around the corner. Sure enough, Juliet sat with her back partially facing me. Her entire body moved with the Vuillaume. She played frantically and with so much emotion. Completely lost in what she was doing.

  I couldn’t discern what she had been playing, but it was a complicated piece. A piece that seemed without pattern. It was strange for her, a woman who was so adamant about rules and technicalities, to be playing such a strange arrangement. I watched her fingers fly along the neck of the violin, lightly pressing into the strings while her bow worked.

  Juliet was standing upright. When she’d break into a frantic string of notes, her body would curve into the violin. It was like she was in a heated battle with the music. Bleeding every ounce of herself out in the notes.

  Eventually she settled, and the song grew slower and the bowing more drawn out. Juliet rocked softly, like she was dancing with the violin. Her feet moved back and forth in place. I could imagine the expression on her face. Not entirely serious, but focused. Her green eyes off in another world. It always made me wonder what she thought about as she played. If her thoughts were a slur of notes and rhythms. If she pictured the entire song in her mind.

  I’d gotten so lost in her, I hadn’t realized when she’d turned. Her playing stopped. We stared at one another as if the entire rest of the world had ceased to exist. My hand fell, palm flat, against the glass of the window. Juliet’s face was so full of emotion. I couldn’t tell what she was feeling. I watched as she turned to her case, taking careful care to stow her Vuillaume. First the instrument, then snapping the bow in the holster on the side.

  Instead of moving into the room, I just watched her. She was so precise in how she cared for it. Every tiny detail. Once she’d closed the case, she turned towards the door. My hand was still resting on the glass. Juliet reached around the handle, pulling it inward. As soon as it started to move, my hand dropped to my side.

  The two of us stood, perfectly still, across from one another. There were no words exchanged between us. Just the stillness. I hadn’t looked away from her. I watched as she took a step forward. Then another.

  Juliet raised her hands in front of her. She spoke without sound to me. I don’t remember much, she admitted. We talked a long time. About a lot of things. You asked a lot of questions about my grandmother. My eyes briefly looked up to meet hers, unsure of what to make of what she’d said. Music is everything you are. That’s what you told me. When I asked you what you’d do when your hearing was gone. You told me you weren’t scared of the silence. You were scared of forgetting.

  “Because of my father,” I said, breathlessly.

  “Because of your father,” Juliet replied, her gaze still glued to mine. “You said you would have given anything for him to keep his gift.”

  “Then you said if he’d done his job right, I’d keep it for him,” I replied, my voice struggling to escape my throat. My body was shaking ever so slightly. “I was so grateful for you. You saw me for what I was in that moment. Just a scared, lonely girl wanting someone to listen.”

  “You’re a beautiful, strong woman,” Juliet replied. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.” I was mesmerized by you. Juliet smiled at me. I am mesmerized by you.

  I wasn’t even able to reply before Juliet wrapped her hands around the sides of my face, pulling me forward into the room. Our mouths came together in a swift tender motion. Every kiss of her lips wrapped me up like a warm blanket on a cold day. They fell together perfectly. Naturally. Effortlessly.

  “You tasted like that strawberry wine Miranda loved so much,” Juliet recalled when we’d parted for a brief moment so I could look at her. My lips curled, and I fell into her once more.

  I pulled a deep breath in through my nose as we pulled and pushed against each other, savoring every second of our embrace. Juliet’s fingers stroked my cheeks. A small sigh fell out from me. The sound sparked something in Juliet, who pushed me in one burst against the wall of the room. She pressed herself against me. I could feel the frantic breaths she took as our kisses intensified. My lips parted slightly for her, and I felt the soft tickle of her tongue as it rolled between them. That same familiar woody taste filled my mouth. As our tongues engaged in an intricate dance, Juliet’s body fell into mine. We shared the ever-growing heat and friction building between us. The feeling of months of want and desire escaping us. It was too late now. There was no stopping this. Not anymore.

  When our mouths broke apart, the caress of Juliet’s soft supple lips drifted along the skin of my cheek and onto my neck. I felt the heat of her breaths beating on my ear. She kissed me there once, softly, before she pulled away.

  God, no. I begged in my mind. If she stopped this again... Juliet must have sensed my panic. She was still smiling at me. One of her unusual smiles that filled the length of her face. Her right hand stroked my cheek. I sighed again, my eyes closing briefly. When they opened, her green eyes were piercing into mine.

  “I’m going to give you an address. Two blocks west of campus. Wait for ten minutes before you come. Leave your car.” Juliet’s facial expression was firm, but her eyes remained soft. As soon as her hand left my cheek, I shivered. At first I thought she would kiss me one more time before she left, after she’d texted me the address. Instead, my gaze followed her as she retrieved her Vuillaume and walked swiftly from the room without another word.

  Ten minutes later, I found myself walking from the Bito building. My entire body was shaking, and not from the brisk, late fall-air. I rounded the corner onto the street Juliet had instructed me to find, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. The condo building was on the corner. I made sure to keep a careful eye of my surroundings before I went inside. I took the stairs, two flights up, to the top of the building. Three doors down on the left, I’d found her door.

  I was frozen, hardly able to breathe. Unable to knock. Finally, I forced a long breath of air out. Then another. By the third, I heard the lock click. The door moved open slowly, Juliet on the other side. She was still dressed in the attire she’d been wearing at the concert. Except now, she’d released her long wavy black locks from her braid. They cascaded around her, like a beautiful waterfall, some falling over her shoulders, while the rest fell behind her back. I stood mesmerized by her very being.

  Juliet moved out of the doorway, inviting me inside with a small smile. I took timid steps forward, into the short hallway that led into the rest of the house. It was comfortable inside, far more lavish than I was used to. The small hallway opened into a dimly lit den. There was an expensive looking white couch on the far side, and a long bookshelf against the wall that looked as if it was purely for decoration. A small Steinway sat in the corner, along with a comfortable looking chair and a music stand. It was perhaps what I’d stared at the longest, imagining Juliet spending hours of practice in that corner.

  I watched as Juliet trailed in front of me and turned to face me. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No,” I replied, without a moment's hesitation. Juliet paused, clearly having expected me to say otherwise.

  “Can I give you a tour?”

  “No,” I said again, breaking the distance between us. It took me a moment to finally realize, but then suddenly I could see it in her eyes. Something I didn’t recognize. Juliet was nervous. We stood nearly toe to toe when our eyes met yet again. Juliet’s expression hadn’t changed, clearly waiting to see what I would do. “You can kiss me again,” I suggested. A long breath of air escaped Juliet as her hands wrapped around either side of my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks. She stared at me for an awfully long time, as if she was inspecting ever piece of my face in great detail. I waited patiently.

  Juliet drew into me in a long and slow motion. Our lips tickled against
each other, and she paused, letting the anticipation of the moment build. I felt her run her tongue over the length of her lips. Then she pushed forward, the soft, moist touch overcoming me. I sighed, as we ran together, tasting one another again. It lasted only a few brief moments before she pulled away. Her hand took mine, and I was led down the hallway, without an explanation.

  We turned into a very clean bedroom. Juliet’s bedroom. Her most personal, intimate space. She’d taken me there. After she released my hand, I watched as she moved across the room to her dresser. I waited, leaning against the doorframe.

  Juliet inspected the wristwatch on her arm. A small silver watch she’d worn every day I’d known her. In the careful, intricate way she did everything, she removed it. On the edge of her dresser sat a small wooden bowl. Juliet let the watch fall gently into it. I watched her from the mirror, her facial expression calm and placid as she removed objects from her pocket. A wallet. A small set of keys. Her phone. Everything went with perfect precision into the bowl. Once she was through, I watched her hands fall to her sides. With a careful flick of her wrist, she removed the belt at her waist. It coiled in her hands before she placed it on the countertop.

  The mystery in her eyes beckoned to me. Before she turned back, she slid from her cardigan. Underneath, she wore a sleeveless turtleneck blouse. Her creamy-white skin glowed in the dim lighting as she hung the cardigan along the backside of a chair. When she’d finished, she turned back to me, an arm outstretched in my direction.

  “Come here,” she said simply, when my attention had drawn on her mouth. She looked calm. Peaceful. The world moved in slow motion as I took careful steps forward. Steady breaths drew in and out of me. When I stopped in front of her, she moved around to my backside. I didn’t turn to face her. Instead, I followed her from the reflection of the vanity mirror on her dresser. My whole being was filled with waiting. Juliet paused behind me, fingers sweeping over my hair, drawing it over my shoulder to expose my neck. The tips of her fingers grazed my flesh, her eyes raking over me. A violent shiver ripped through my body.