by Lizzie Vega
“Yeah, whatever.”
Sara snorted, “You really don’t get it do you. Gimme a second. Here’s the part where Ethan used to keep the major chord progression.” She played the passage partway through stopping just before the now desired change, “Where would you go with it?” She played a burst of triplet notes then dropped down to the minor note to draw out the phrase. “Or this maybe?” She played a second version where the quarter notes dropped more quickly into a more imposing sound.
She grinned as Mikayla considered both choices then shook her head, “Or?”
Mikayla began to sing the passage in a soft alto. She’d gotten to three notes, when Sara teased her, “Mik, louder, it’s gorgeous, lemme hear it.”
Without hesitating, Mikayla started again, and her full true voice rose to fill the stage. She counted down the three separate passages, each time adding a different but more difficult series of notes.
“How many times does that phrase repeat, six?” she asked Sara. “Then into the ending? I’d do an octave change with two, then four. Same minor, but it’ll sound happier.”
Sara held out her violin, “Play it for me. Right now.” Looking around the stage, she made sure Mikayla had the violin safely in her hands. “Just a second, be right back.” Running to the light board behind the side curtain, she snapped on two floodlights to illuminate the center of the stage. With another quick flip, the house lights came up. The auditorium was flooded with light, every seat visible. Sara ran out to her, pointing to the bright spot on the floor, “Here, stand right here.”
Mikayla stepped into the spotlight, smirking, “What are you doing?”
“I’ve been around this place long enough, I think I own it, right?”
Mikayla laughed awkwardly, “Yeah, I would guess so.”
“Not anymore,” Sara said suddenly, “It’s yours. You are the owner. That piano, that spotlight over your head, those empty seats, from now on, they belong to you.”
“Um, sure.”
“Bow up, face the audience…” She whispered in Mikayla’s ear, “I own the place. Say it.”
“I own the place.” Mikayla repeated softly.
“Good for the first row,” Sara said as she began to strut across the stage. “but Uncle Larry was late to your concert and now he’s stuck in the back row, didn’t hear you.”
“I own the place,” Mikayla said firmly, more forcefully.
Sara raised her arm elegantly to acknowledge the distant balcony, “Cheap seats.”
“I Own The Place,” Mikayla bellowed, “Cuz Sara gave it to me.” She put the bow up to the violin then paused to look out over the seats, “And turn your damn phones off for God’s sakes.”
She played the music phrases one at a time seamlessly moving from one to the next, each movement, up another octave. Then only to back down to add the triplet before chasing up the neck to the next set.
Finishing, she turned to Sara, her eyes shining, “Thank you for pushing me.”
“It’s perfect. I like it better than what I did.” She put her arms around Mikayla, “Any stage that’s ever lucky enough to have you…you own it. Got that? They are lucky to have you. Don’t ever forget it.”
Still holding Sara’ violin, Mikayla walked to the piano to put it back in it’s battered case. Opening it, a rosin bag was sitting where the body of the violin would rest. Seeing the small storage compartment, she lifted the tiny lid to replace the bag. A glint of bright metal caught her eye. It was an ornate brass button still connected to a small torn piece of tan cloth. Mikayla gently set Sara’s violin inside and clipped the old horsehair bow into the lid and locked the clasps. When she turned around, Sara was right behind her.
“Time to go home,” she said softly, and not think about stuff too much.”
As Sara walked Mikayla back to her dorm, they were both quiet. As they got close to the building, Mikayla began to cry after Sara took her hand, “In the Union that day. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I was…so angry, I didn’t even look where I was going.”
“It’s okay,” Mikayla sniffled, “I’m fine.” She held up her bow hand, “All good to go.”
“I know.” Sara threw her arms around Mikayla and held her tight, “I know,” she whispered. “Your talent, the colors that you see, it’s all a gift that you will learn to nurture. It’ll be perfect. Don’t be scared.” She stepped back with a grin, “Remember what we talked about.”
Mikayla’s eyes went wide, “Not likely to forget…like, ever.”
“Good. You own the place, wherever you play, right?”
“Right,” Mikayla sighed, looking up at the stars, “and that, too.”
Chapter 43
“This is so weird,” Mikayla whispered as she came out of the store’s dressing room, “I wish Sara could have come with us.”
Kelli looked up from her phone and did a double take, “Holy crap. You’re um, gorgeous.”
Mikayla twisted and turned, pulling at the knee length dress, “It’s kinda snug and it’s really low. Are you sure she’ll like this?” She frowned, “Maybe something more conservative.”
“No way,” Kelli almost squealed, “Trust me on this one, it’s perfect. Makes me want to ask you to prom.”
Maybe it was nerves, but Mikayla laughed heartily making Kelli smile, “You’re feeling good, aren’t you?”
“I am.” Mikayla waved her arms about and played air violin in the dressing room hallway, “It’s easy to move around in.”
“She’ll love it.” Kelli cupped her hands to her own chest, “You have a little more up top, but it will accommodate nicely. A nice handful and at least you didn’t put this one on backwards.”
Mikayla was horrified, “If you tell anyone, so help me God, Kel. Once I got it on, it was nice.”
“Yeah, and that soft blue was spot on for you but the red one suits Sara’s skin tone better. We need shoes now. I vote low pump.”
“She said 6 1/2, right?”
Mikayla chuckled again, “Ethan was horrified when she showed up with all of those, ehem, borrowed ones.”
“Alvin and Edward really stepped up, didn’t they?” Kelli laughed, “They had a great idea but can you imagine if they picked her stuff out?”
“I think they, Alvin especially, has connected with Sara too. She’s made his dream a reality.” Mikayla pointed back to the tiny dressing room, “This is the one. Even I feel comfortable in it. I liked the blue one too.”
“It looks better on you than her.” Kelli reiterated, “Get changed and then we’ll go buy her some shoes of her own.”
Back into her jeans and sweatshirt, Mikayla hung the rejects on the dressing room door and headed to the checkout. Kelli flashed Alvin’s credit card, “We’re under budget.” Passing by the jewelry counter, she brushed her fingers through a collection of simple gold and silver chains. Kelli slowed, “Mik?” she asked softly, “What if we got something like this for her?”
“It’s pretty. Expensive?”
“Not really. The guys could give her the dress, we could do the access-“
“I have a better idea,” Mikayla said, gently rolling the finely-woven chain through her fingers, “This should come from Ethan. Let’s get it gift wrapped.”
Walking down the mall hallway, Kelli pointed to a favorite shoe store, “They’ll have something nice and dressy?”
Mikayla chuckled, “Something in a Doc Marten?” She stopped suddenly, reaching into her jeans pocket, “Dammit, I left Alvin’s card at the other place.” She pointed to the shoe store ahead, “You start looking, I’ll be like three minutes.”
A few minutes later, she found Kelli at the back of the store, modeling a simple black slip-on. She held up the card, “Got it,” she grinned, wide eyed, “Can you imagine if they’d called Alvin?”
“Yeah, not cool. What do you think of these?” Mikayla was absently looking through other options, but quickly agreed, “Simple and cute, I like the bow. Done deal.”
Chapter 44
> Having long forgotten about the time, Mikayla continued to practice. First, it was Ethan’s Mozart favorite, then what she could remember of her improv session in class. After an hour and a half, she took time to jot the song pieces down on a page on her music stand and randomly sampled sections of each part.
She’d begged off an invitation for dinner with Alvin and the club, then ditched early from her quartet practice to hole up in the furthest reaches of the music building. Just a few minutes, she thought, just to polish a measure or passage or two. It would have to be perfect, to be just right.
Almost at the end of an improvised recital-length version, her wrist seized up. First, a tendon threw a painful throb across her palm. It was sharp enough for her to whimper, the soft groan contrasting horribly into the music.
Trying to push through the direct result of her over practicing, she began to cry. Just finish this one, use the pain to focus. Blurred by her tears, she continued to play having memorized all of the most difficult parts.
A searing pain suddenly ran the length of her ring finger and her fingers slipped bringing the faltering music to a ragged halt.
“No,” she cried out as the pain from her fingers began to throb, “No…please not again.” Slowly opening her fingers, she expected to see the tiny lines of her fingerprint split open by the wire strings. The sharp sting of her fingers was no match for what she felt in her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed out loud. She slipped down to her knees to lean against the piano bench, “I can’t do this, I won’t be good enough.” Her hand propped up on the seat, she slowly flexed her frozen fingers trying to will the pain away. Frozen into a fist, she couldn’t bring herself to look at her fingertips.
Struggling to her feet, she raced out the door, holding her hand and ran to the bathroom.
Finding instant relief in the cool water running over her fingers, she leaned down to the basin, her long hair almost brushing the old porcelain sink. “One week,” she said, beginning to bargain with herself, “If I can make it just one more week, it’ll be fine.” Carefully massaging her fingers and wrist, with tears rolling down her cheeks, there was a soft knock at the doorway.
“Mikayla?” she heard, and the soft sweet sound of Sara’s voice pushed her over the edge. Looking up, her shoulders began to shake as Sara rushed in to help. “Let me see,” she said as she gently took hold of Mikayla’s hand, “Did you cut it?”
She tried to answer, shaking her head, “It’s hurts…I’m scared,” she gasped between sobs, “I’ve ruined…everything.”
Sara took Mikayla’s hand and gently pried her fingers open, “Let me help you.” She smiled, “Here look, they’re okay. The pads are good.” She took a close up look at the fingertips, “You’ve played the fingerprints right off of ‘em, but no cuts.” Taking Mikayla’s hand from the water, Sara pressed her thumb gently below Mikayla’s wrist getting an instant groan out of her.
“Muscle spasms,” she said quietly, “I got them all the time.” Using both hands, Sara began to massage her lower forearm and wrist. “Make the water a little warmer to increase your circulation, then do this again when you get home, okay. I’ll walk with you if you want?”
Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, Mikayla wiped her face, smearing her eyeliner, “Thank you, yes please. I’m embarrassed.”
“A little warmer,” Sara said as she adjusted the faucet, “Is it feeling better?”
Mikayla sniffled and nodded toward the practice rooms, “How long were you there?”
“Long enough to hear that something is bothering you.” She began to pull several towels from the dispenser and folded them into a thick layer. When she began to soak it down at the adjacent sink, Mikayla sighed, “Here you are, coming to my rescue, again.”
Sara looked at Mikayla with a warm smile, “Mik?” she grinned, “I’d say it’s been the other way around.” Squeezing out the excess water, she formed the soothing compress over the top of her fingers. “Let’s go get your violin and shut off the lights. It’s time to go home.”
After gathering up her music and walking out the side door of the building. They began to make their way to Mikayla’s dorm. As they got close to her building, Mikayla sighed heavily and slowed down. Sara took her arm, “I know you’re worried about him. He’s gonna do fine.”
“He’s gotten really quiet around us. Hasn’t said two words to anybody all this week. I am worried.”
“We’ve gone to the hall a couple of times, just to run through the songs so he could walk through the process. I modeled my dress for him.”
“That will help,” Mikayla said, thinking about the modeling session, then she was quiet for a moment, “A lot of people know about his recital. That scares me more than anything.”
“Yeah, I had a few of those,” Sara added, “It just boils down to his three selections and about a half hour and then…done. He’ll make it through. With his friends there, he’ll be fine.”
Despite the warm evening, Mikayla shuddered, holding back tears “You’ll be with him. God, I hope this works.”
Chapter 45
The night before Ethan’s recital, he sat in the practice room alone, quietly plinking out nursery rhymes on the old piano.
“Are you here?” he asked quietly without looking behind him.
The practice room was quiet. “Sara, please. I need you right now.”
“I’m here,” she said from behind as she put her hands gently on his shoulders, “what’s on your mind?”
“What’s not on my mind?” he asked wearily, “It’s just so much. Am I being that obvious?”
“Maybe a little. I don’t mind. Your voice just now reminded me of my little brother. Though you didn’t jump when I touched you.”
“Oh, great,” he said, mocking himself, “I’ll be sure add that to my I’m being pathetic list.”
“Stop now,” she scolded him playfully, “You’re not pathetic at all. You’ve suffered a major loss and it was a huge setback. It would be for anyone. Look at me,” she asked as she tried to turn him around, “I can’t wait to accompany you. You’ve never played better.”
“Thank you,” he said, looking down.
“And don’t mope,” she scolded him, then kissed him on the cheek, “though that troubled yet creative expression is adorable.”
“Now you’re just mocking me,” he protested weakly, “this recital has taken on a life of its own. I’ve heard people are talking about it.”
“True,” Sara said then paused, “Kelli has told me about that. And, yes, I am mocking you. In the most loving way of course.”
He sighed, turning back to the piano, “Of course.” He brought his hands up to the piano, then set them in his lap, “Am I that weak?”
She reached up to tug at his sleeve, “Ethan, no, not at all. You just…didn’t get the best foundation to start. In her own way, your mom meant well, she just…she was the weak one. Not you.”
“Your parents were supportive, right?”
“To a point, sure. They certainly sacrificed to get me here.” She shrugged, “Not everything works out how you hope it will.”
“So?” he looked at her, his eyes brimming, “Someday, do I reach out to them, share some of our conversations?” He played the first four notes she had written for him quietly on the piano.
“Hey, we’ve talked about this, they’ll think you’re nuts. Now get back to work.” She pointed up at his hand-written score, “Here, that section was a little too perfect last time.” She winked, wrinkling up her nose, “Just sayin.’”
Ethan snickered, “You sound like Kelli. I can see Mik rolling her eyes right now.”
“They’re wonderful, aren’t they? I’m so happy for you.” She hugged him, “They, and a lot of other people here at the school are the foundation you should have gotten when you were little. Good friends that appreciate who you really are. The people that are talking about your recital, I’ve heard some of them. It’s because they are all supporting you.”
He looked at her, then smiled slyly.
“What,” she snickered, “too deep? Too angsty? It’s true though.”
“Why me, Sara?” he asked.
“Oh dear, it was too much,” she put her arms around him, “Like I’ve told you before, it was your music first, then that cute shy smile of yours. It was the same thing that made you stop in the hallway that first night.”
“It was just meant to be.”
“I’ve been here going on twenty years,” she grinned, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard the first years play the Mozart piece? It’s excruciating sometimes.”
That made him laugh, “Okay, that I get.” He pointed at the stanza she had referenced, “From here?”
“Tomorrow, Ethan. And then your life is going to take an amazing direction. All of our hard work is going to pay off. I know you’re ready for it.”
“Department chair signed off on the music, I had to fudge a little on the description but he’s okay with accompaniment. Seems he’s heard some of the talk.” Ethan shivered and Sara caught it.
“Don’t worry, babe. You’re gonna blow ‘em away.” She rubbed her hand across his back to warm him up, “And in the morning, we sleep in. No hard practice except when we warm up, okay?”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m positive,” she said as she put her hand on top of his, “I’ll distract you in all the best ways.”
Chapter 46
The next day, Mikayla was at the concert hall a full two hours early. A sleepless night wasn’t helping her mood and her fingers ached.
“Kel,” Mikayla blurted the second Kelli rounded the corner, “Have you seen him?”
Kelli smiled with a hint of apprehension, “He and Sara are in the foyer lounge. They’re both really quiet and it’s over an hour before warmups.”
“Good,” she said quickly back only a bit relieved, “I so want this to be done.”