Eternal Melody

by Anisa Claire West

  “Start to make the movements with your arms, as I did. Rotate the strokes from each side and see how your arms guide you across the pool.”

  Gracefully, Rebecca extended each arm behind her, feeling steady and safe with Luke’s support. “Your hands are like training wheels on a bicycle.” She laughed breathlessly, surprised by the exertion even this simple stroke required. Several minutes later, he removed his hand from her lower back and watched proudly as she sailed across the pool on her own.

  “You’re a natural born swimmer!” He called, and she vaguely heard him, as she was enraptured gazing up at the cloud-puffed heavens, feeling as though she had returned to the womb.

  There seemed no more perfect place than this cocoon of clean blue water, gliding while the sun swirled its cozy rays. When she reached the other side of the pool, she knew that she was seven feet above the water’s depth but felt no fear at all. Eagerly, she turned around and paddled back to Luke so he could show her the breaststroke.

  “I love swimming.” She announced, standing upright in the shallow end of the pool.

  “And I love watching you swim.” Luke said huskily, wading towards her for a quick, firm kiss.

  “Do I taste like chlorine?” She inquired with a giggle.

  “You taste like paradise.” He corrected, dropping his hands to the curves of her hips, while she wiggled in his arms, impatient to swim again.

  “None of that right now, Luke.” She scolded. “We’re here to swim.”

  “Is that why we’re here? I must have had a momentary lapse of memory.” He said wryly, reluctantly setting her free and beginning his demonstration of the breaststroke. To their mutual delight, Rebecca was as quick and adept at learning the breaststroke as she had been at the backstroke. As the afternoon sun intensified, Rebecca was experimenting with advanced strokes like the butterfly and even flipping acrobatically on the deep end.

  “This is the best class I’ve ever taken!” She gushed, swimming towards the side of the pool.

  When she would have gotten out and wrapped herself in the comfort of a dry towel, Luke caught her around the waist and began kissing her neck. “Not so fast.” He urged.

  “Luke, this is a public swimming pool. What if someone sees us?”

  “Then lucky them.” He muttered, as she tried to escape. Even in the altered gravity of the water, Luke was much stronger than her, and his grip was ironclad.

  “Luke,” She persisted to protest, “We have to get dried off and go to work. Remember that pesky little detail?”

  Regaining his composure, he let her climb out of the pool and into her waiting towel. As she vigorously rubbed her sopping wet body, she said seriously, “I want to repay you for teaching me how to swim.”

  Still splashing around in the water, he said, “Well you could jump back in and do just that. No one would dream of stopping you.”

  She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation and rejoined, “I mean it, Luke. I told you what learning to swim meant to me. I feel this newly acquired skill has empowered me. My mother didn’t know how to swim, but now I do. I don’t feel as vulnerable as before. And to repay you, I want to give you a private lesson in something.”

  Seeing how sincere she was, Luke resisted the compulsion to make another suggestive remark and thought in earnest what she could teach him. There was one thing…if he dared to attempt it. “Teach me how to sing.” He said bluntly. “I may sound like a foghorn, but I’ll try it. I hope your ears aren’t overly sensitive.”

  Rebecca looked at him in surprise, unable to believe that this brilliant pianist and violinist did not know how to sing. From the rich, layered tone of his speaking voice, she highly doubted that he would sound like a foghorn.

  “I will be your private vocal coach. At your service, Mr. Springwell.”

  Inevitably, Luke interpreted Rebecca’s offer as an invitation to finish what he had tried to begin several times in the swimming pool. Before she could reach for her dress, he jumped out of the pool with such force that the water smacked her body, drenching the towel.

  “Luke!” She accused, “Look what you have done!”

  Belligerently, he snatched the wet towel as it made a whipping noise in the breeze. With utter carelessness, he tossed the towel to the edge of the pool, but it missed its target and tumbled into the water.

  “You’re too strong for your own good.” Rebecca murmured, having abandoned all notions of trying to resist Luke. She did not want some slimy voyeur to fetch a pair of binoculars and watch them make love, but there really did not seem to be anyone around for miles. As Luke pulled her into a dizzying kiss, she wondered how the man could beckon her into a dream state where she was numb with pleasure.

  When she finally resurfaced from their lovemaking, she felt as though she had dove inside a bottomless abyss and fluttered like a mermaid to the top, where the sun scorching her flesh transported her back to reality.

  Marginally aware of her surroundings, Rebecca whispered sleepily, “We really do have to be on our way now, Luke. It would be a shame for one joy to sabotage another.”

  Luke’s passions had been thoroughly abated, and he now shared her urgency to leave their poolside rendezvous and forge ahead to the concert. For the first time that day, Luke thought about the despicable scene that had transpired last night. Reminders of the damage were still visible on Rebecca’s tender skin, angering Luke and making him ponder Greta’s fate. With an inward sneer, he hoped that she would be deported from Austria-Hungary, though he deemed that an unlikely scenario since there had been no theft or murder involved. If Greta were just jailed for a nominal time, then she might wreak even more severe havoc upon release, Luke thought disgustedly. Why couldn’t she just disappear from their lives?

  Perceiving a shift in Luke’s mood, Rebecca put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Is something the matter? You seem upset all of a sudden.”

  Unwilling to shatter their blissful day with the sludge of Greta’s attack, Luke coughed and said, “No, nothing is wrong. I was just thinking that we really must be going.”

  They smiled at each other and proceeded to dress, but not before Luke grabbed Rebecca one more time to deposit a compelling kiss on her lips. As they walked away from the swimming pool, Rebecca decided to give Luke his first vocal lesson.

  “Let us begin with you singing the scales…do re mi!” She started for him, seeing the awkward, self-conscious expression he wore. “Go ahead. Singing is one of the most liberating activities…other than swimming and making love that is.” She favored him with an encouraging smile as he acquiesced and repeated the scales in a voice that instantly struck Rebecca with its inherent beauty.

  Luke’s voice, while clearly untrained, had a wonderfully rich and deep quality to it.

  “Your voice is remarkable.” She marveled.

  “Remarkably bad?” He asked dryly.

  “No! Why would you say that? If you ever tire of playing the violin or piano, I daresay you could line up another career as a singer.”

  “Don’t be absurd, Rebecca. This sidewalk singing lesson is the first real exposure I’ve had to singing in my life. It takes years of serious training to call oneself a vocalist.”

  “Perhaps, but you have a natural talent, truly. I would not say that if it weren’t true.”

  As they walked to their apartment building, they sang in glorious harmony, ignoring the curious stares and giggles of onlookers. It amazed Rebecca that their voices seemed to join together as naturally as their bodies did, as though they existed within a single, inseparable entity.

  *****

  Once they arrived at the apartment building, humming more of their favorite tunes, Luke and Rebecca parted ways with air-blown kisses and went to their respective chambers. At the top of the staircase stood Gloria, holding Annabelle in her arms and looking frazzled.

  “Grandmother, what are you doing here?” Rebecca asked, suddenly queasy with worry. The sensation was similar to what she had felt right before Greta attacked her
on stage, and it terrified her. As the old woman remained mute, clutching the docile baby to her bosom, Rebecca demanded again, “What are you doing here? Please, tell me what is wrong!”

  In a trembling voice, Gloria squeaked, “Gregory and Ethel are gone.”

  “What do you mean they’re gone?”

  “They have absconded and left the baby with me!” She raved.

  “I don’t understand, Grandmother. Please try to calm down and explain it to me.” Rebecca coaxed, gently lifting the baby out of Gloria’s shaking arms.

  “Rebecca, my dear, they have abandoned their only child, and I shudder to tell you why. It is a humiliation to our entire family.”

  Gloria hung her head in shame, as Rebecca’s mind raced wildly, utterly clueless as to what secret her grandmother was about to reveal.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Grandmother, please. I cannot bear this suspense. Not after all that I’ve endured lately. Please.” Rebecca prodded desperately, as Gloria’s normally rosy complexion turned ashen.

  “At least let us go inside your chamber, Rebecca. I don’t want the entire hallway to be privy to our scandal.” Gloria shuddered.

  “Scandal?” Rebecca echoed, shifting the baby to her left side while she opened the door with her right hand.

  “Yes,” Gloria whispered glumly. Once they were safely inside, Gloria resumed a regular decibel and admitted, “I should have told you about this much sooner, but Gregory promised me that he would make sure everything was taken care of. You know how manipulative and domineering he can be. I had little choice but to listen to the brute.”

  Rebecca nodded in concurrence, though she was startled to hear her grandmother speak so unfavorably about Gregory.

  Gloria paced the minuscule room, looking towards the window as if to seek strength. Finally, she confessed, “Gregory and Ethel had gambling debts back in Michigan. That’s the real reason we came here, not because Gregory was fired. You know how many nights those two spent away from the house. I knew that Gregory was playing all sorts of high stakes card games, but I had to turn the other cheek because he would never listen to me.”

  The queasiness Rebecca had felt upon seeing her grandmother now increased, and she sat on the bed when she knew her legs would no longer support her. “Go on.” She whispered.

  “When Gregory came here, I thought it would mean a clean slate for his gambling addiction, but things only became worse in the city. With no occupation to keep him out of trouble, Gregory gambled away every dollar he could get his greedy hands on and…”

  “And you permitted it!” Rebecca burst out. “You even convinced me that I should share my earnings with him! Grandmother, how could you?”

  The old woman’s features told the story of a woman distraught and wracked with self-contempt. It was not in Gloria’s nature to be dishonest; she had merely wanted to keep the peace, even if it was an illusion.

  “Forgive me, Rebecca. I know I was wrong not to tell you and Ryan. But Gregory put me in such a terrible position! He is my first born grandson, after all. And I kept hoping he would change.”

  Rebecca looked compassionately at her grandmother. “I understand, Grandmother. This is all Gregory’s fault, not yours. Does Ryan know?”

  “Yes, I spoke with him before coming up here to see you. Dear, I don’t know how to tell you this next part. You are already so cross with me.” Gloria faltered, staring intently at the window. Outside, the turquoise sky was rapidly transforming to a milky haze.

  Rebecca wondered with dread what could possibly be worse than the news she had just received. “I’m listening.” She said tensely.

  Gloria sighed, the sound both musical and melancholy, reminding Rebecca of the woman’s fragility. Making a concerted effort to listen patiently, Rebecca unclenched the muscles of her face and awaited Gloria’s reprise.

  “Rebecca, please know that I am unspeakably sorry for what I must tell you. Before Gregory and Ethel left, they broke into Ryan’s chamber and stole all the money they could find. Ryan had been frantic, thinking that terrible Greta had come back to rob him, but after I told him about Gregory’s gambling debts, he pieced the facts together. So, I hope you have not kept any money in your chamber because there is a fair chance that Gregory might have broken in here as well.”

  If Rebecca had not been holding the precious bundle of Annabelle, she would have jumped from the bed and run to the armoire, where she had put aside some of her pitiful earnings from Mrs. Denmaker.

  “Grandmother, please check the armoire. Top drawer. There should be a few bills in there.” Rebecca shut her eyes as Gloria opened the drawer, reached in her hand, and returned nothing but air. “They stole my money, didn’t they?” Rebecca asked rhetorically.

  Gloria rushed over to the bed and sat next to her granddaughter. “Every evil action has a consequence, my dear. I do not wish them any harm, but all of this gambling and theft will one day catch up to them in a most destructive way. Not to mention how they will suffer for abandoning their baby girl!”

  “Yes, and who is going to care for Annabelle? Are they coming back for her? Where did they go? Are they going back to Michigan?” Rebecca released a nervous stream of questions.

  “I have no idea where they went, but I doubt they would dare to return to Michigan.”

  “But that night when we held that ridiculous family meeting, Gregory made such a fuss about wanting to return there before winter.” Rebecca shook her head, suddenly realizing the depth of her brother’s deception. “He was just trying to throw Ryan and me off track, wasn’t he?”

  Gloria let out another woeful sigh. “I don’t know. And I don’t know what is to become of that house. I may have to go back there by myself, but I could not manage it all alone. The grounds need upkeep, and I am certainly not fit for the physical exertion that demands.”

  “Well I’m not going back there under any circumstances! Gregory is not going to ruin my life!” Rebecca cried.

  “No one is asking you to go back to Michigan, dear. I am so very proud of you. Darling, I would never want to deprive you of a career.” Gloria spoke with sincerity, looking lovingly into her granddaughter’s tear-brimmed eyes. “We will not worry about the house right now. All I can tell you is that Gregory and Ethel are on the run. We should at least be grateful that they didn’t drag this poor innocent babe into their deplorable lifestyle.”

  “You’re right.” Rebecca caressed the baby’s velvety soft cheek. “Annabelle is the real victim in all of this.”

  “Yes, she is. But I will do my best to care for her while you are busy performing.” Gloria assured, taking the baby once again into her fold. “Speaking of performing, you have a show to prepare for, and I will leave you to your own devices so you can do just that.”

  Rebecca groaned, “How can I sing? Between what happened last night and what you’ve just told me now…”

  Sternly, Gloria said, “Rebecca Sarah Meadow, you will not allow other people to finagle your destiny. Your gift of singing is God-given, and you were meant to share it with the world. Life will always hurl wrenches and rocks at you, but you must continue. Is that understood?” Gloria cupped her granddaughter’s chin just as she had all the times Rebecca when came crying to her as a child.

  “It is understood. Thank you, Grandmother. You are amazing. First you raise the three of us rascals, and now you have a great-granddaughter on your hands. It’s mind boggling.”

  Gloria looked suddenly uncomfortable again. “Rebecca, how may I say this delicately? Someday, God knows when, I will be gone. It may be while Annabelle is still growing up and needs maternal care. In that case, she may need you to raise her. Perhaps you’ll have a husband by that time. We needn’t fret about it right now. As I said, let me be going so you can prepare yourself for tonight.”

  Without another word, Gloria took leave of Rebecca’s chamber, leaving the young woman feeling desolate. Rebecca was deeply pained to think of losing her grandmother, though she knew it was inevitable.
The prospect of being responsible for her niece left her with a monstrous knot in her belly that stayed with her throughout the night’s performance.

  *****

  After Rebecca had sung the last note of the evening and reemerged for one last curtain call, she disappeared backstage to seek refuge in her dressing room. As she collapsed onto a plush ivory sofa and closed her eyes, she wished she had a cold compress to apply to her throbbing head. Thankfully, the performance had been excellently received, but everything that had occurred in between left Rebecca utterly depleted.

  When she had rushed into the theatre late in the afternoon with barely a minute to spare, Mr. Graysen had pulled her aside immediately and explained everything he knew about Greta’s punishment. He relayed how the ushers had brought her to the police station, where she had no choice but to confess to the assault. Denying it would have been futile since there were so many witnesses. She was jailed for the night and remained behind bars, but only for the next thirty days.

  The thought of Greta again on the loose made Rebecca physically ill. Rebecca resented having to be at the mercy of this odious creature that had clawed and hissed at her, reducing them both to a subhuman level. Curling up into a tight ball on the sofa, hoping to ease the knot in her stomach that still had not come undone, Rebecca tried to chase away these negative thoughts and focus on the glory of that evening.

  She lay her head against a gossamer pillow, almost too weak to lift her head. If it were possible, she wanted to sleep in her dressing room, even if it meant being alone overnight in the dark, imposingly large building. She simply did not have the energy to walk to her apartment building and climb five steep flights of stairs.

  Rebecca was just nodding off to sleep when a knock sounded at the dressing room door. Sitting up reluctantly and feeling a vertigo-inducing rush of blood to her head, she called out feebly, “Who’s there?” As she waited for a response, she expected to hear Luke’s familiar baritone, but instead she discerned the higher pitch of a young boy.