Touched by the Music

by Carson Mackenzie

  When was that?

  How long had it been?

  Dad? I heard my dad’s voice, but where was he? He wasn’t with us in the car. He wasn’t even with us in New York.

  “Are you Olivia’s doctor?”

  “Yes, Mr. Chambers. I’m Dr. Michaels, and I was hoping to speak with you before you go in to see your daughter?” My dad must have nodded instead of answering because the doctor continued. “She has several deep lacerations that have been stitched. Bruising on her face and torso. She was in and out of consciousness in the ambulance while they were en route. When she arrived in the ER, we thought it best to keep her sedated until we could evaluate any damage and keep her stabilized. Once we were sure we’d taken care of everything, we cut back on the meds, and it brought her out from under the drugs. She has a—”

  “My wife? I wasn’t given any information when I was notified other than Constance and Olivia had been in an accident, and they were brought here. Is my wife here, too?” My dad asked after cutting the doctor off.

  I waited, listening to my dad and the doctor. They had to be standing a little way down the hall because I had to strain to hear them.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Chambers. Your wife was brought into the ER, but... They worked on her at the scene. However, they were unable to get a heartbeat. Mrs. Chambers was already gone.”

  There was a quiet moment, and I lifted my arm, the one that had nothing attached to it, and wiped the tears away with my hand. Tears that were making steady tracks down my cheeks after it was verified that my mom was dead. I’d hoped when I’d woken that I been wrong with what had happened at the scene of the accident.

  Not sure how many minutes passed before I heard my dad’s voice again when he asked, “Were you in the ER when they brought them in?”

  “Yes, but only because I was called down for Olivia. I work in pediatrics.”

  “Livi?” my dad’s voice roughened and was lower than when he’d spoken before.

  “We’ll go into Olivia’s room shortly. I’d like to finish discussing privately on her condition.”

  “On her condition? What’s wrong? Is she going to be alright? What is going on with her, Dr. Michaels?”

  “Well, on top of everything I stated before, she has a mild concussion. Her right forearm is broken and is bandaged as of right now. A cast will be put on as soon as the swelling subsides. Aside from that, our concern is...” the doctor’s voice lowered until I couldn’t hear his voice or even my dad’s anymore. The only sounds I was picking up around me were the machines in my room.

  I laid in the bed and tried to recall what had happened after I’d regained consciousness. The more I tried to focus, the pounding in my head was brought front and center, which caused me to moan from the piercing pain. In one of my lucid moments in the ambulance, I remembered they touched the side of my head, and I’d flinched. The area had been tender.

  Then I remembered I’d touched my head, and when I brought my hand away, there’d been blood. I had to have hit the window in the accident. But I still couldn’t recall everything that happened though. The harder I tried, the more my head hurt.

  “I will be back in a few hours to check on Olivia again. Mr. Chambers, she really will be fine. And again, I’m sorry for the loss of your wife. I wish there was more that could have been done.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Michaels,” my dad said, and I heard footsteps walking away, then a whoosh of the door being slid open. I looked toward the direction of the sound.

  “Oh, Livi, sweetheart,” my dad said, and tears ran down my cheeks as I began to cry. “It’s going to be alright.”

  He gently held on to me and rubbed my back. The hug quite awkward due to my wrapped arm that was secured across my middle. With my face buried in his shoulder, I sobbed until there was nothing left in me. I turned my face and rested my cheek against him and let him continue to hold me.

  “Dad, I can’t see,” I whispered.

  “I know. We’ll get through this together, Livi,” he said, and I nodded while soaking up the warmth of being in his arms offered.

  Chapter Seven

  SEVERAL DAYS LATER and after what seemed like a hundred test administered for my sudden blindness, I was finally going to be released to go home. The diagnosis ‘conversion disorder/hysteria’ brought on by the traumatic experience. It could last days, weeks, even a month. Totally up to me and how I processed what happened. Like it was my choice to live in darkness. Therapy was discussed to help pull me through. I’d even had a visit from a pediatric psychologist.

  That had been fun. Not!

  My dad had been busy between staying with me and having to handle everything dealing with the accident. To include making the arrangements for my mom’s body. She’d be transferred to Boston where after we got home, there’d be a funeral.

  “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling today?” my dad asked as he pushed through the door and entered my room.

  I forced a smile. One I wasn’t feeling because I knew he was trying to stay upbeat for me while trying to handle his own grief. I lost my mom, but he lost the love of his life.

  How did people get through this?

  “I guess, okay. This cast is a pain, though. I kept hitting myself with it in my sleep.”

  “It’s only for six weeks.”

  “Ugh, I’ll still have it when school starts. That will be loads of fun. Well... unless my sight miraculously comes back. Then I won’t have to worry,” I whined.

  “Livi, you heard Dr. Michaels. It will come back. There is nothing medically stopping it from doing so. You just have to relax and be patient.”

  I blew out a breath. “I know, but Dad, what if they’re wrong, and it doesn’t come back?” I asked, voicing what was floating around in my head.

  “One day at a time, Livi. It’s how we’ll get through it all. And the first step to it is tomorrow. Getting you checked out of here and home. Now, I brought something for you.” I inhaled deeply, and my dad chuckled. “It isn’t food.”

  “Aww, the food here is bad. I’ll never again take tacos, hamburgers, or pizza for granted. So if it’s not anything edible, whatcha bring me?”

  “Your violin.”

  “What?” I asked, but it wasn’t as if I didn’t understand, it meant he’d picked up mine and my mom’s things that had been in the vehicle.

  “I thought maybe you would want to check it over for damage.”

  I folded my legs up to give him room to set the case on the foot of my hospital bed. With my left hand, I popped the latches, then opened the lid. Using the same hand, I touched the instrument, running my fingers over it. I didn’t need my sight to tell if there was physical damage to it. The violin was and had been a part of my life since I began lessons at six years old. Not this particular one. It was the one my mom and dad had gifted me with when I’d been accepted into the BYSO just three years ago. I’d been thrilled to receive the purple violin. Maybe even more than the actual acceptance into BYSO.

  “How about a private concert?” When I didn’t immediately answer, my dad continued. “I thought since you missed the performance.”

  The performance. The reason we came to New York in the first place. My selection to take part in a special orchestra performance that was to include the best from ten different youth orchestras. I was one of four chosen just from our string section. The concert was to be the first of its kind—a youth orchestra made up of some the most talented youth—two long rehearsals—then one night at the Merkin Concert Hall to showcase why we’d been selected as the best.

  I was six when I begged for a violin and lessons after seeing a violinist on the television playing solo. It had been a documentary my mom was watching, and I’d stopped playing when the woman began her solo. I might not remember her name or the show, but if I concentrated, I could still hear every note played.

  I loved playing the violin. But wasn’t my love and talent for the instrument that cost me, my mom? We wouldn’t have been at the intersection
at that time if not.

  “Livi, do you need me to help you lift it out of the case?”

  “I’m not sure I can,” I whispered, but it was nothing to do with his question.

  “If you’re worried about the weight causing pain in your right arm, I can help hold it in place.”

  “It’s not that. If not for me, we wouldn’t have come here, and Mom would still be alive,” I confessed in a voice barely above a whisper.

  “No, Livi. You are not to blame for what happened. The accident could have just as easily happened in Boston.”

  “Are you saying it was fate?”

  “I’m not sure I’d say that. But your mom believed everyone’s life was set from the time they were born,” he said, then his hand came down on my shoulder, and he squeezed.

  I smiled when I thought of my mom and her belief. “If I hadn’t received a call from the admittance office about missing information on my paperwork, Olivia. I wouldn’t have been in the office when your dad walked in. Fate put us there at the exact time.”

  “Help me get it out of the case.”

  After I had the violin in place, I only had a little discomfort using my right hand and fingers to hold the end and work the strings.

  With the bow poised, I said, “I hope they don’t get mad.” Then my fingers worked the strings, and I slid the bow across effortlessly. The song I played was one we were to play at the special performance. I guess they did play, but without me.

  “I See the Light,” composed by Alan Menken and lyricist Glenn Slater was written for the Disney animation Tangled. Mandy Moore and Zachery Levi originally recorded it for their film roles, Rapunzel and Flynn Rider.

  As I visualized the note, I let the music take hold, and as always, everything disappeared around me. All I could hear was the music. All I felt was the violin. The song was about chasing a daydream, living years in a blur until the fog lifts, and at last, I See the Light.

  How fitting because I prayed I’d see the light again, too.

  When I finished, someone clapped. I thought it was my dad until my doctor spoke, “Wow, Olivia, that was beautiful. You are very talented.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Michaels,” I said as I laid the bow down on the bed, then lowered the violin to my lap.

  “I hope you didn’t receive too many complaints,” my dad said.

  “I’m not sure. But I can’t imagine anyone complaining from hearing that. If anything, you may have some of the nurses wanting an encore. I wasn’t being polite; you truly are gifted.” I felt the heat rise on my face and knew I blushed at the doctor’s praise.

  “Did you come to examine Livi, Dr. Michaels?”

  “Oh no, I was down at the nurses’ station looking over charts. When I heard the music, I walked to the doorway to get the full effect. I don’t get to the symphony often. This was a nice treat.”

  “Excuse me, Dr. Michaels. You’re needed. Your patient is waking up,” was said, I assumed by a nurse, interrupting before I could thank the doctor again.

  “Fantastic, I’ll be right there. Olivia, Mr. Chambers, I will see you both tomorrow morning before I sign the release papers.”

  “Sounds good, Doc,” my dad answered, then I heard the door click closed, signaling his departure. “So, what’s on the menu for lunch today?”

  “Uhh.”

  Dad chuckled. “Okay. How about I go out and find a pizza joint? If I bring a few pies back for the nurses, too, maybe there won’t be any complaints.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Anything for you, baby girl.” He kissed me on the cheek, then helped to put the violin away. “You rest, and I’ll be back in a little while.”

  After he left, I laid back and closed my eyes. My dad was right, I couldn’t blame myself for what happened even though I felt as if I was responsible. I knew there would be rough patches ahead as he and I adjusted to it being the two of us. Also, I knew as my dad did—we’d get through it together.

  Chapter Eight

  SITTING IN THE FAMILY room listening to the television, I smiled when the clanging began in the kitchen. It was close to dinnertime, and the sounds were familiar to me after five weeks.

  “Livi!”

  “Yes, Dad!”

  “Get changed, we’re going out to eat. I’m sick of delivery, and I can’t stomach another night of my own cooking.”

  I rose from the couch and made my way to the kitchen. Since I was still experiencing temporary blindness, I was thankful the layout of our house never changed.

  “Dad, are you okay?” I asked when I reached the kitchen and heard him shuffling around. He was probably putting everything back he’d pulled initially out to fix for dinner.

  “Fuck, your mother made this shit look so easy. The house was always picked up and clean. She put meals on the table effortlessly. And sonofabitch, how did the woman keep up with the laundry? It’s only us. Two people and the clothes pile up faster than I can keep up.”

  “Cut yourself a break, Dad. The house was Mom’s domain. The woman got excited about cleaning, and she loved to cook. Plus, I helped when I was home. I know you think I’m helpless because I can’t see, not to mention the cast, but there are things I could help with that can be done by touch. And when my stupid sight decides to come back, I’ll be able to contribute a lot more around here. I don’t make a half-bad grilled cheese either.”

  I heard his footsteps get closer, then his arms came around me, and he rested his chin on top of my head.

  “Before you were released, Dr. Michaels told you that your sight could come back without warning. The same way you lost it. And the cast is coming off in two days. Things will get back to normal...well, normal for you and me. But we’re going to have to face the fact that we suck at the house shit. I believe your mother was the one who kept you and me from being total slobs.” We both laughed.

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked after we stopped laughing, and he let me go and went back to straightening the kitchen by the sound of it.

  “First, we are going to Da Silva’s for dinner. Tomorrow the search begins for a housekeeper. Hopefully, one who can cook.”

  “Are you talking about a live-in?”

  “No, I think we’ll only need someone Monday through Friday. I figure we can survive the weekend on our own, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I think it’s an awesome idea,” I agreed. With someone here during the day, my dad wouldn’t feel as if he needed to stay home with me. He’d only run into his office at the law firm a few times in the last five weeks. His cases had to be backing up even with his ability to work from his in-home office.

  “What’s the matter, Livi?”

  “Nothing, I’m going to change my clothes,” I answered, then stuck my arm out and turned in the direction where I knew the doorway was that led into the hallway.

  “Okay. Yell if you need my help.”

  I stopped with my hand on the doorframe. “I’m sorry you have to miss so much work to take care of me,” I said, then started to feel my way down the hallway until I’m stopped by my dad’s hands on my shoulders.

  He turned me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Livi. We both needed this time to adjust. And missing work is not an issue. It’s one of the benefits of being a partner in the firm. We’ve been doing alright, haven’t we, Livi?”

  “Yeah. I just wish everything was back to normal.”

  “We’ll get there eventually.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, too, Livi.”

  After I reached my bedroom and changed clothes, then verified with my dad that what I had on went together, we left for the restaurant. It would be the first dinner out without my mom.

  Sometimes it was hard for me to believe that she’d been gone for over a month. But when you’re busy, I guess time flies by.

  Within a week of getting home, we buried my mom. Two days after her funeral, I began therapy to talk about everything that happened and the nightmares that had started, well...the night
mare because it was always the same one—the accident. Everyone thought talking about it all would unlock whatever was keeping my sight away. I had to admit it had helped with the nightmare because though I still had it, it wasn’t every night. Then I visited the orthopedic doctor to make sure my arm was healing correctly. I was over doctors.

  I knew we needed to move on, but I missed my mom, and I knew my dad did, too. It’s not that we would ever forget my mom, we just needed to learn to live without her. And I guess we were—one step, one hour, one day at a time.

  “OH MY GOD, I’M STUFFED.” I lifted the napkin from my lap and wiped my mouth, then sat it on the table.

  “Does that mean you don’t want dessert?” I groaned, and my dad chuckled. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Definitely a no.”

  “Alright, let me get the check paid, and we’ll head home. Want to pick up some ice cream for later?”

  “Sure.”

  We debated what kind of ice cream we wanted while we waited for the waitress to bring my dad his card and receipt.

  “Here you go, sir. Have a nice evening,” the waitress said.

  “Thank you,” my dad replied to the waitress. After she walked away, he asked me if I was ready.

  “Yes, but can we stop at the ladies’ room first?”

  “Of course.” Dad took hold of my elbow and led me to the ladies’ room. “Here we are, Livi. The door is in front of you. I’ll be right here when you come out. Yell if you need me.”

  I might not be able to see with my eyes, but I could still roll them. My dad had been helping me since I left the hospital, but even with my disadvantage, no way I’d let him help me with private things. It would be too embarrassing. Probably for both of us.

  “I think I can manage. Besides, it’s the ladies’ room.”

  “So.”

  “There could be other women inside who wouldn’t take kindly to that.” I chuckled and pushed on the door.

  “Like I’d give a shit what they thought if you needed me.”