by Kay Moser
“Oh yes!” Christine exclaimed as she popped up from the piano stool. “What have I been doing? Playing myself when I could have heard you? What was I thinking?”
“I did not give you a choice, as I recall.”
“Just play, Madame,” Sarah called up to her. “Play the Tchaikovsky you are preparing for the concert.”
“Oh no!” Madame waved her hand in the air. “It is too long. The children will think we have abandoned them.”
Christine reached out and grabbed her hand. “Just a short movement, please. I do not have any experience with the Russian composers, and I so want to learn.”
“I will play an etude of Alexander Scriabin. You know his work?”
“No, I am afraid I do not. I have never heard his work.”
“I shall remedy that right now. This is his ‘Etude in D Sharp Minor.’ Very powerful!”
“I am going to sit in the audience where I belong.” Christine hurried away from the piano and joined Sarah.
The moment Madame began to play, Christine’s mouth fell open in shock, then closed into a smile of sheer joy. She leaned forward, reaching for every note that resounded in the hall, filled every nook, lifted to the heavens. She listened so intently she did not even notice that Ceci had come and crawled into her lap.
When Madame’s long-fingered hands struck the keys for the last time, she lifted them high into the air, paused, and then leapt from the piano stool. Christine and Sarah broke into applause that echoed in the huge auditorium, and Madame descended the steps to join them.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” Christine exclaimed.
“It is so simple for me; you see it is in my blood. But Chopin? No! He is not in my blood, but I want to play his work. I will make a deal with you, Mrs. Boyd. I will teach you the Russians if you will teach me to play Chopin.”
“I’m sure you already play Chopin.”
Madame shook her head and leaned toward Christine. “When I play Chopin, I am sure he plugs up his ears. I don’t have the right touch. You will teach me. Yes?”
“It is an insane notion. I could teach you nothing.”
“This is not true. I have heard you play. Now, do we have a deal, Mrs. Boyd?” she demanded. “I will teach you the Russian composers; you will teach me Chopin’s technique. And perhaps you know a little Schubert? You see, if it takes a light hand, I can’t play it. Most frustrating.”
“How will we manage this?” Christine asked.
“I have classes in the mornings, but I practice during the quiet hours they enforce. As you will see, the tents are far enough away that I don’t disturb those who rest. Can you come up here in the afternoons?”
“I … I should be able—”
“She can,” Sarah answered for Christine. “And she will.”
“Good, then it’s settled,” Madame proclaimed.
“Mommy,” Ceci called as she pulled on Christine’s skirt. “Will you teach me what Madame teaches you?”
Madame looked down at Ceci, then back at Christine. “We have many activities for children. Music, dance, art, games of all kinds. Fedor participates in many of them, and lunch is served every day. Perhaps …”
“I can get the children’s schedule,” Sarah added.
“I don’t know,” Christine answered. “Maybe … if there were some place for them to nap …”
“There is. Fedor and I spend our nights at a hotel downtown, but I keep a tent here for rest and other needs. The girls are most welcome there.”
“Or in my tent,” Sarah said. “I’m sure Bert and Ella won’t mind, and Nancy can look after them.”
“All in all, Mrs. Boyd, I think the Chautauqua can provide you and the girls with all you need to enhance your time here. As for me, I confess I am selfish. I want another pianist to share my time with.”
“I hear you have a whole orchestra to share your time with.”
“That’s true, but …” She winked at Sarah. “They are all men. I could forgive them that, of course, since they were not allowed to choose their gender, but …” She shrugged. “They are not pianists.”
“Mommy! Mommy!” Juli called as she ran down the aisle. “I’m hungry, and Nancy won’t let us eat until you come.”
Madame clapped her hands together with delight. “Now who is this adorable creature?”
“My sister.” Regret tinged Ceci’s voice. “She’s just barely four years old, and she hasn’t learned decoration yet.”
Christine stifled a laugh. “‘Decorum,’ dear. The word is ‘decorum.’”
“Decorum,” Ceci pronounced the word cautiously as Juli crashed into Christine’s skirts. “She hasn’t learned it yet.”
Madame grinned, crouched, and pulled both girls into her arms. “That’s all right. She’s calling us back to the world. Some would say the ‘real world.’”
“Are you the famous rushing piano player?” Juli asked.
“‘Russian!’” Ceci exclaimed. “She’s not ‘rushing.’ She’s ‘Russian.’”
“Are you?”
“I am an American now, but I was born in Russia, and yes, I play the piano.”
“I was born in Texas, and I don’t play the piano,” Juli informed Madame. “I’m going to be a painter like Miss Victoria.”
“Good for you.”
“Are you the mother of that boy outside?” Juli asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“He has a funny name. I forgot what it is, but I’m going to marry him when I grow up.”
“His name is Fedor. That means gift of God.”
Juli rolled her eyes as she struggled with this new information. “My tummy is empty,” she finally said.
“So is mine,” Madame agreed. “We better eat. Yes?”
Juli nodded vigorously.
CHAPTER 36
That evening, Christine visited Victoria after supper. “The Chautauqua is truly an amazing place, Victoria. They have every kind of educational and artistic activity available, as well as many sporting events. They even offer forays into the mountains; in fact, Sarah is planning to go up Boulder Canyon with a group next week. I am so eager for you to be strong enough to go see Texado Park.”
“What was the Russian pianist like?”
“Awe-inspiring! Oh, Victoria, you should hear her play.” Christine jumped up and began to pace excitedly as she talked. “She played the most amazing etude by a Russian named Alexander Scriabin. It’s a very new piece, and you should see the technical challenges it presents. Absolutely treacherous stretches with intervals up to an eleventh. Think of it!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but your enthusiasm has me convinced she’s quite a piano virtuoso.”
“No, no! My words cannot do her justice; you must hear her to believe it. You have never seen anyone make so many chord strikes so quickly. The right hand is almost always playing chords.” Christine spread the fingers of her right hand and flicked her wrist in the air at waist height. “At the same time, the left hand jumps around continually.” Her left fingers danced up and down an imaginary keyboard. “This is all incredibly hard to do because your hands are doing the opposite of what they normally do. I tell you, she was magnificent. I am an absolute novice compared to her.” Christine sank back into her chair.
“Did she ask you to play?”
“Of course. She is very kind.”
“And what did you play for her?”
“Chopin, naturally. I was petrified to play for her, so I thought I would simply play several of the preludes and then turn the piano over to her. But something came over me—I cannot explain it—and I launched into Chopin’s ‘Ballade in A Flat.’ Oh, Victoria! You should have heard the sound in that massive auditorium. For the first time in my life, I was not playing in a constrained drawing room. The sound seemed to lift from the piano, go high, high up to the rafters and just fill that voluminous space. ”
With a knowing smile, Victoria leaned forward. “What did Madame say about your playing?”
/> Christine blushed and shook her head.
“Just as I thought.” Victoria leaned back again. “She was impressed, wasn’t she? She recognized the magnitude of your gift. I knew she would.”
“As I said, she is very kind.”
“What did she say?” Victoria demanded.
Christine sighed. “That I should be playing on a concert stage.”
“And so you should. As I have told you many times.”
“I have not forgotten what you said, but the idea is so far-fetched—well, the good news is that Madame has offered to introduce me to the music of the Russian composers, to be my teacher. I never thought I would ever have such an opportunity.”
“And you’re going to take her up on her offer, right?”
“I want to. No, my feeling is stronger than that. I yearn to learn anything and everything she is willing to teach me.”
“Then you will accept her offer.”
“I have to consider …”
“What? Your self-sacrificing efforts to bring me to a cool climate have been rewarded with a chance to study piano with a famous pianist. What is there to consider?”
“I am a mother. I have responsibilities and … I am a widow, a recent widow.”
“For heaven’s sake, Christine! You have both Nancy and Frances to take care of the girls. As for being a widow, I know that nothing can prevent you from experiencing moments of painful grief, but it seems to me that your beloved piano is the best way to move through that pain. It is, isn’t it?”
“Yes, without a doubt. Next to the girls, the piano is my biggest consolation. But what about the propriety of launching into something so … so…”
“Enjoyable? Rewarding? Can you really be thinking you must guarantee the intensity of your grief by rejecting a chance for joy in your life?”
“Somehow it does seem wrong to feel happy.”
“What would Richard say about that?”
“Oh, Victoria, I had the most remarkable dream early this morning. I dreamed that Richard and I were flying in a carriage over the Chautauqua tent city, and he gave me a box. Inside was a piano. Do you think …? Oh, I’m being foolish. It was just a dream.”
Victoria swung her legs to the floor, scooted to the edge of the chaise, and grabbed Christine’s hand. “You must not let this opportunity pass you by. The circumstances of your adult life have not allowed you to study your art, but still your playing impresses a professional pianist so much she wants to teach you. She has no need of another student; she has a horde of students right now. But she wants to teach you because she sees your talent.”
Christine nodded. “She was quite complimentary.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, as Hayden would say. How much does she charge?”
Christine felt her eyes widen and her mouth fall open as she stared at Victoria. “How much does she charge?” she repeated.
“Yes! Whatever the amount is, it will be worth it.”
“She did not say anything about money. She only asked me to teach her to play Chopin. You see, she has very powerful hands, and her touch is so assertive that the quick, light runs of Chopin’s music do not come naturally to her. She’ll have no problem learning, of course. A few hours of practice—”
“Listen to you! Are you hearing what you’re saying? Natalya Makarova wants to learn from you! Christine, this is amazing. A gift from God. You can learn so much from her, and she wants to learn from you.”
“But for it to come at this time in my life … I’m not just referring to my status as a widow; I’m thinking of my age. What is it that I plan to do with all this … this knowledge, this skill?” Her lips began to quiver, and tears splashed down her face. “Oh, Victoria! When these few weeks of reprieve are over, I’ll be required to return to Riverford and pick up my life as a reclusive widow. For the rest of my life, I’ll just be … I’ll just be …”
“You don’t know what you will be, Christine. But you do know that God has presented you with this opportunity, that He has presented it now. Can’t you trust Him to work out your future?”
“Victoria, I know what you are dreaming of for me, but women my age do not suddenly begin playing on concert stages.”
“Not with the New York Philharmonic, no. But, Christine, what does it matter where you perform? You will be practicing your art. That’s what counts. And what about Ceci?”
Christine’s hand flew to her mouth. “Yes, yes! Ceci has her whole life ahead of her. Do you really think that the twentieth century will see women performing as concert pianists?”
“I do! Women will climb to the top of every profession. But only if they can stand on our shoulders. We must give them the stable platform they will need to push their way up, up to the top.”
“Like you have done with Sarah.”
“Like Sarah will do for several generations of her future students.”
Christine pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her face. “I just hope Sarah is given the chance to teach without totally sacrificing her private life.”
“On that matter, I have news. I received several letters today, one from Hayden. He has convinced your father to run for the school board in October.”
Christine smiled. “How very clever he is. A few changes on the school board can produce great changes in policy. I’m sure the town will support him.”
“They already are. And the General intends to win!”
“Hayden is quite a man. All he’s doing for the bank, as well as keeping the store going, and now maneuvering local politics. I know he must miss you, though.”
Victoria sighed. “And I miss him, more than you’ll ever ... Oh no, what am I saying? I’m so sorry, Christine! Of course, you know.”
“Yes, I know about the pain of a hole in the heart, of losing half yourself …” She stood, walked to the window, and stared up at the mountain peaks. “I am glad we came here, Victoria. Every time I see those huge rocks on the sides of the mountains, those rocks that point to the heavens, I am comforted and inspired.”
“What are they inspiring you to do tonight?”
“To accept Madame Makarova’s offer. To advance my skill as far as I can. To enroll the girls in some of the lessons and activities at the Chautauqua. In short, I am inspired to reach for the heights for them and for me. I am inspired to trust God for the future.”
“Wonderful!” Victoria stood and joined her at the window.
“Should you be up?” Christine asked.
“Oh yes. Definitely. I plan to start a painting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? So soon?”
“Dr. Reese says I’m well enough to go down to the garden and paint a watercolor as long as I mostly sit. He says the view of the valley is spectacular from the front garden.”
“It is, but the view of the mountains is beautiful from the little garden behind the cottage, and I think, given our conversation, you should be painting the mountains.”
“That settles that. I shall be invading your cottage garden tomorrow. And where will you be?”
“At Texado Park. Madame Makarova has invited me to practice with her in the afternoon. I shall have an early dinner here with the girls, then I shall go while the girls nap. Perhaps I can also sort out some activities for them.”
“Good. I plan to see this Texado Park myself very soon.”
“Oh, I hope we’re not leaving you too much on your own.”
Victoria hugged her. “Just give me the rest of this week to recuperate, and then I shall be driving up there with you.”
“What does Dr. Reese say about that?”
Victoria grinned. “Nothing yet. I haven’t told him. Now, what about Sarah? How does she seem to be doing?”
“She is in her element. She loves her classes; she’s surrounded by other teachers eager to learn; she’s made special friends like Madame Makarova. Only one thing is plaguing her, now that she is no longer worrying about us.”
“Lee.”
Christine nodded. “S
he is truly in love with him, I believe, although she may not be admitting it even to herself. She is so afraid of risking her career by marrying.”
“How well I know that feeling. But, trust me, something will happen; something will clarify her vision.”
“It will take something dramatic,” Christine said. “Something she cannot ignore.”
CHAPTER 37
Thrilled to be up early, Sarah prepared for the Fort Worth teachers’ trip into the mountains that day. The last week had been wonderful. Her classes challenged her so much that she loved her hours of study at night. Christine and the girls had come up most mornings, and the girls had enjoyed various activities while Christine practiced with Madame. Yesterday afternoon, they had returned to the sanitarium together to have tea with Victoria and to see the painting she had done that day.
But last night had been absolutely the best. To see Victoria arrive for the symphony concert, to see her meet Madame Makarova … I knew for certain she is really well. Thanks be to God!
“Thanks be to God!” Sarah repeated her thought aloud. “Everything is perfect … or would be … no, I mustn’t ask for too much. Still … if Lee were here …”
“Gather around, everybody,” Sarah heard Bert shout outside the tent.
She grabbed her knapsack and hurried through the flap.
“Has everybody got what you need for the mountain excursion with you?” Bert raised her voice so the Fort Worth teachers gathered near her tent could hear. “Sun hats? Walking sticks? You won’t have time to return to your tents after breakfast.”
“What about food?” someone called out.
“That’s all taken care of. The dining hall is packing a picnic lunch for us. The carriages will be waiting as soon as we finish breakfast. We want to get an early start so we can explore as much of Boulder Canyon as possible. Be sure you have on your sturdiest boots. Lots of hiking ahead of us today.”
“We’re ready!” an energetic voice responded. “Bring on the mountains!”
“No classes today!” another voice decreed, and a general cheer went up.