The Music Trilogy

by Kahn, Denise

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you play an instrument, Max?”

  “I do.”

  “Which one?”

  “Oh, a little bit of everything.”

  Sam laughed. “That’s like saying I speak a few words of every language.”

  Max laughed as well. “You’re right. I’ve tried quite a few instruments and my favorites are the piano and the guitar, but I’m passionate about rhythms so I love drums and bongos.”

  “Nice. Maybe we’ll play together some time.”

  “That would be great. Let’s do that sooner rather than later.” Oh, yes please, let’s definitely play.

  “Yes, lets, there’s nothing more sensual that the combination of guitar and piano. At least I think so.”

  “I absolutely agree.” Totally!

  “Hey Max,” Haf interrupted excitedly, “Chantal is from New Orleans, like me, and she has an aunt who is the best cook in the state!”

  “I’ll vouch for that,” Sam said. “I’ve had some amazing meals in my life, but nothing like what Aunt Clotilde comes up with.”

  “Hey, when all this is over, we’ll have her cook something for us,” Chantal said.

  “It’s a plan,” Colin said.

  “I’m in,” Max said.

  “Why not,” Sam added. She also just realized that ever since she met Max she hardly thought of Robert.

  “Hey Music Man, it’s the next right up ahead.”

  “Yeah, got it.”

  “Music Man?” Sam asked. “Why do they call you that?”

  “It’s a nickname Haf gave me in boot camp. When things got tough music got me through it.”

  Sam nodded. She was liking Max more and more, and hating herself for it.

  When they arrived at the house Hamid was ready to jump out, but Colin held him back. “Just wait a few more minutes, little man, let us check out the place first.”

  But Hamid didn’t have to wait long. A woman dressed in an all-black hijab, including a veil over her face ran out of the house with outstretched arms. “Hamid!” She exclaimed.

  “Aunt Fatima,” the boy screeched in delight and jumped out of the jeep. They hugged and then she saw the bandage.

  “Are you hurt? Is it painful?”

  “No, they fixed it up. They said it would be like new.”

  Fatima turned to the people in the vehicle and in broken English thanked them for all they had done. She also insisted they come in for tea. They couldn’t refuse, it would have been impolite, and so they followed her in. The little house was sparsely furnished. Max thought that maybe they had sold almost everything to survive. They sat down cross-legged on a carpet around a low table.

  Sam related that her husband, Hamid’s uncle, had been killed along with his parents.

  Fatima came out of the kitchen carrying a platter with dates, small cups and a steaming pot of brewed tea. She served each one of her guests with the greatest of pleasures. It was such a treat to have people in her house, and she was so grateful and happy to have her little nephew back.

  “This tea is amazing,” Chantal commented.

  “You like chai?” Fatima asked.

  “Yes, very much, thank you. What is the spice? It is delicious.”

  “It is heil. I don’t know in English.”

  “Cardamom,” Sam said.

  “I’ll have to get some for Aunt Clo.”

  “No, no,” Fatima exclaimed, “I give to you.” She quickly went to the kitchen and brought back two small bags, one with tea, the other with cardamom. “Please, for you,” she said, handing it to Chantal.

  “Thank you very much, Fatima. We will think of you in New Orleans, where I am from, when we drink this wonderful tea.”

  “New Orleans? Tell me about this city,” Fatima asked.

  “I’m from the same city,” Colin said.

  “Ah, you are the same family,” Fatima said to Chantal and Colin.

  The big man wanted to crawl under the carpet. Max, who ordinarily would have pursued the issue and made him even more uncomfortable, came to his rescue. “We are all one family, Fatima. Some of us are like brothers and sisters, sometimes from different cities. I am from Washington and Sam is from Boston, also very beautiful cities.”

  “Ah, yes, one day maybe we will visit your beautiful America.”

  “It would be our pleasure to have you as our guests, Fatima. You are welcome any time,” Max said.

  “You are very kind, and we, the Iraqi people are very grateful you have come to help us. Thank you from all of us,” Fatima said, and touched her heart.

  Max wanted to help. He knew that giving her money would be insulting so he had an idea.

  “Fatima,” Max said.

  “Yes?”

  “When we found Hamid he was in a music store.”

  “Yes, that was my brother’s shop, Hamid’s father. May Allah watch over him and my sister-in-law.”

  “Was he the one who made the instruments?”

  “Yes, he made most of them. They were very beautiful.”

  “Truly remarkable. Do you know what happened to them, the few that were not destroyed?”

  “There were not too many left. I have them here.”

  “Really? May I see them?”

  “Of course, come with me.”

  “Can Sam come too? She is a musician.”

  “Yes, yes, with pleasure.”

  Max and Sam got up from the carpet and followed Fatima to a small closet. She opened the door and the smell from the woods of the instruments deliciously hit Sam and Max’s olfactory senses.

  “Sandalwood!” Sam exclaimed.

  “And apricot wood too,” Max added.

  “Very good,” Fatima said. “You are both musicians. You are family too.”

  “Yes,” both Sam and Max said. They looked at each other, one with the liquid jade eyes, the other a deep violet, especially when he looked at Sam.

  Fatima handed Sam the best guitar. “Please, you try it.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you, this is such a treat!” Sam went to where the others were, sat back down on the carpet and tried out the strings. “Oh, this is a beauty.”

  Max and Fatima watched her. “She is very happy, Fatima, this makes me very happy too.”

  “Yes,” Fatima said, wiggling her finger, “I see you love her very much.”

  Max stared at the woman they had only just met. “You are as wise as Scheherazade.”

  Fatima laughed. “You Americans are very kind.”

  “Thank you, Fatima. May I ask a favor?”

  “Of course, anything.”

  “May I please buy the guitar?”

  “No.”

  Max was taken aback. “It is for my love to her,” he pleaded. He knew she would understand, wouldn’t she?

  “No. I cannot sell you the guitar, I can only give it to you. It is my gift to you to her. It is the least I can do for what you have done for Hamid and for bringing him back to me.”

  This was not going the way Max had planned, but he came back quickly. “I understand and I thank you. I gratefully accept under one condition.”

  “What condition is that?”

  “That you permit me to buy all the instruments you have left. On that I am firm.”

  Fatima knew what this meant. She and Hamid would be able to survive for months. Allah was very powerful, and Max was His beautiful instrument. “I accept your condition.”

  “Good,” Max said simply. In the back of his mind he silently thanked his grandfather William who told him to always have a good amount of money on him. One never knew, he used to say. Max quickly pulled out several hundred dollar bills and put it in Fatima’s hand. “I know this not nearly enough for what these beautiful instruments are worth because they were made with much love. I immediately noticed that when I saw them in the store, and I wondered back then how I could buy them. I am so glad this was possible. You have made me very happy, Fatima, thank you.”

  “I thank you.” She looked at h
im. “You have little Middle Eastern blood?”

  “I don’t think so, but maybe. Why do you ask?”

  “You bargain good.”

  Max laughed. “I have some Greek blood.”

  “Yunani? Greek?”

  “Yes,” Max answered.

  “You see, I know. Come, let’s listen to Sam.”

  They sat back down on the carpet and watched as the American woman caressed the wood of the instrument. Max thought it was the most sensual thing he had ever seen. He longed to be that guitar.

  Sam took a few moments to tune the strings to her liking and then started strumming. She honored Fatima with an Iraqi folk song. As the speed picked up Max went to the closet where the instruments were housed and brought out a pair of naqqara. The drums were covered in hide above a rounded back and reminded Max of diamonds, without the point at the bottom. He went back to the carpet and sat across from Sam. He joined her with the drumming. Hamid was so excited he jumped up and started dancing, with typical gyrations of a ten year old mixed with hand and hip movements of his heritage. Fatima hadn’t been this happy in years. She clapped and sang, as did Chantal and Colin, to the rhythms and music their friends were producing. Max watched Sam and couldn’t help thinking how special this woman was. She was brilliant in her music, and he especially liked the way she could pick up tunes and play them never having heard them before. Sam was also impressed by what a good musician Max was. His drumming always enhanced her own playing and when he in turn tried the guitar, regaling them with Spanish flamencos, she was captivated.

  “Okay,” Max said, “last song. Unfortunately we have to go, but we will do this again.” He looked at Fatima.

  “Oh, yes, please,” she said.

  “Haf, you’re up man.”

  “It would be my pleasure. This one’s for you, little man,” he said to Hamid and started singing Color my World. The big man’s throat pushed out velvet and crystal notes and everyone in the room was awestruck by the magnificent rendition of the song. When he finished they all clapped thunderously.

  “Satchmo would have been honored, Haf.”

  “You know how much I adore music, right Colin?” Sam said.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, one of the things I love most is that when you witness what we just did, it is magical. And even as a musician you don’t get jealous. On the contrary you understand the power of music.”

  “That’s probably the loveliest compliment ever, thank you Sam, and you were of course magical yourself. And Music Man, you didn’t do so bad either.”

  “Thanks Haf. Oh, could I get a hand with the other instruments? They’re coming with us.” They looked at him. “What? I bought them.”

  Hamid stayed with Fatima. They waived as the four, with all the instruments filling the jeep including their laps, left for the CSH.

  “What are you going to do with all the instruments?” Sam asked as Max drove them to the base.

  “I’m going to mail them to my mother.”

  “Where is she going to put them?”

  “She’ll figure it out. She’s a very resourceful lady, besides she loves anything that has to do with music. You two have a lot in common.” And I would love to bring you home to meet her, Max thought.

  “She sounds lovely and I’m sure I would like her a too, seeing she’s a music aficionado.”

  “Yes, I think you would get along very nicely.”

  “Hey, Music Man, I’ve got to tell you, this was a really nice day.”

  “Yeah, I’ll second that,” Chantal said.

  “It was nice, wasn’t it?” Max answered.

  “As far as I’m concerned, this is the best day I’ve had here so far,” Sam said.

  “Well, we’ll have to do it again.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sam answered.

  They arrived at the base and Max stopped in front of the girls’ tent. “Home sweet home,” he announced.

  “Something like that,” Chantal said.

  “Hey, do you think we could mail the instruments from here? A hospital seems a lot more reliable than where we are at,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Okay, great. Sam, did you like the guitar?”

  “Are you kidding, it’s a gem.”

  “Good, that one is yours.”

  “What?”

  “It’s yours. My gift to you for a wonderful day, and it will remind you of Hamid and Fatima.”

  “Oh, that’s fantastic, Max, thank you. It will help the injured so much!”

  “I’m glad. And that was one of the ideas.”

  “You had more?”

  “Well, I wanted you to have a guitar and it happened a lot easier than I figured.”

  “Thanks again, Max.” Sam said, and kissed him on the cheek.

  Max wanted to grab her right then and there and kiss her too, but definitely not on the cheek. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her! Instead, he was very business-like. “Okay, out of all these instruments what else could help the patients?” Sam stared at him. “Seriously.”

  Sam thought this was better than a free candy store. She picked an assortment which included a wooden flute better known as a zerna, a double-sided drum, and another guitar. “These will be put to great use, thank you again, Max.”

  “It was my pleasure. Can I leave you the other instruments to mail to my Mom? I’ll give you some money for it.”

  “That will be my pleasure, and no, I don’t need any money. It’s the least I can do. Just leave me the address.”

  “Okay.” Max wrote down the address in care of Mrs. D. del Valle. He of course wouldn’t have it sent to Davina Walters.

  Max and Colin unloaded the instruments and said goodbye to the girls. They promised to see each other soon.

  Once back in the jeep they were on their way to the base.

  “By the way,” Colin said, “all those instruments were probably pretty expensive.”

  “Not really. Fatima would probably have sold them just for enough food, but I couldn’t do that. I gave her what I thought was fair and what I had on me.”

  “Did you have enough? I could have given some money too, Music Man.”

  “I had just cashed my paycheck.”

  “You gave her the entire paycheck?”

  “Don’t you think it was worth it?” Max asked.

  “No question. They deserve it and it was a beautiful day for all of us. And Sam sure is happy for her patients.”

  “Yeah, that was the idea too.”

  “Well, mon ami, if you need any money this month, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Haf, I will.” If only the big man knew how much money Max could spend in one night, for one party, his head would spin. Thinking about it Max believed that he didn’t need any of that anymore. His former life was definitely In the past. He was happy with his Marine brothers, and he would be the happiest man on earth if Sam would be the woman in his life.

  Back at the base Max and Colin returned the jeep to the car pool.

  “Hey Haf, you go on ahead, I’m going to try to call my Mom, it’s her birthday. Maybe I can get through.”

  “Happy birthday to her.”

  “Thanks.”

  It was one of the rare times they were at a base. Sometimes they were able to call home. To his delight Max was able to get through.

  “Hi Mom, I’ve only got a couple of minutes. First, I’m fine. Second, happy birthday to the best Mom in the world. You and Dad are good?”

  “Thank you, and yes we’re good. Unfortunately your father’s not home right now.”

  “Okay, give him my love. Third, I’m sending you the most amazing gift in the world. I’m sure you will like it.”

  “Tell me you didn’t go crazy getting me a gift, please!”

  “I did, but happy crazy. You’ll understand when you see it.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait and be surprised. Thanks. What else?”

  “How do you know there’s something else?”

  “Your v
oice.”

  “Of course, stupid question to ask a musician. I met someone, someone important.”

  “Oh, who is he?”

  “She.”

  “You met a girl?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Oh, this sounds more serious than I’ve ever heard before,” Davina said. She had followed Max’s ‘girl career’, and she knew that there were many she didn’t know about, and probably never would.

  “It is.”

  “Tell me about her.” Davina was interested, and she didn’t care what Max was saying as long as he was still on the line with her. He could have counted the grains of sand he was standing on and that would have been fine. However, she was intrigued. “What’s her name?”

  “Unfortunately I only have a few seconds left. Her name is Samantha, but she goes by Sam.”

  “Tell me something. Anything.”

  “She’s beautiful and an amazing musician like you.”

  “She sounds lovely already. Is she in the military? Where did you meet her?”

  “She was at Harvard on her way to becoming a doctor when she decided to join. She had a nursing degree and voilà, she wound up at a hospital near Baghdad, which is where I met her.”

  Davina chose her words carefully. “Why were you at a hospital?”

  “Oh, we brought a wounded boy in and that’s how we met.”

  “How’s the boy?”

  “He’ll be fine. Mom, have to go. Time’s up and there’s a line behind me.”

  “Okay, love you! Be careful!”

  “Love you too.”

  Davina stared at the phone as the line went dead.

  “Very interesting, little Max, very interesting.” She said out loud to the walls around her, and also wondered how long it would be before she saw or heard from her son again.

  On the way to her room one of the soldiers handed Sam a letter. She looked at it and smiled. It was from Robert. She thanked him and went outside. The sun felt good and gave her a boost of energy. She sat on the ground against a wall of sand bags, opened the envelope and starting reading. By the end of the letter she instinctively knew that Robert had changed, something was different. She was sure it wasn’t another woman as she knew he was embedded, probably somewhere dangerous, writing about the military’s endeavors. Something in the pit of her stomach was confirming that her fiancé had found a new and stronger love.