Skip to main content

Piano Man


 “I am painfully attune to the bright glorious hues of the universe, and the way in which they capture the eye. I have always enjoyed the intrigue of perhaps a jelly fish, or the dark wood of the mahogany, or the rich purple hue of many trees unfurled of snow and barren of leaf.”
     The man’s eyes spoke little in the way of soul but wore great conviction of simplicity. Dr. Sirus’s cold pupils dilated, peering directly at me, speaking into the pores of my skin as only the finest psychiatrists may do. But perhaps, or perhaps not, for in the lobes of my brain it is a certain fact, the priciest ones are no more than a copped up version of the amateurs. These doctors demand a large wad of pocket lettuce for each service, and in return they are respected. Perhaps, through observance of issues at hand and astounding lack of action, the souls of Dr. Sirus focus on deception of the mind. Self-help relations, egotistical sway… all these beauties interest each patient to visualize within himself a more common nature of pride.  Regardless, every man requires his qualified portion of pride, if at all to accomplish any sort of success.
     “You might set aside more than a little time each day, would be my advice, if you truly desire to experience the wonders of vision.” The doctor paused, and I took a great long look at his appearance, as one might take a deep whiff of a peculiar smell. Dr. Sirus basked in a futile dark green hue, the material of suits, and the form of a long drifting reptile. He lifted his head, gracefully, impishly, and pivoted cool grey eyes toward my own blue irises. Sirus was still – a violent darkness as it descends upon the Indian Ocean. 
     “Oh to be blind, to be the victim of such cruel and wasting fate, oh to be the shell of a human being where nothing else but choice scents or auditory pleasures can be endured! I should rather bear a merciless, forbidden end of attrition than to suffer such a beginning! This is why, dear friend,” Dr. Sirus leaned forward dangerously, according to his practice,
      “You have no choice but to purchase, for your wife, the thing she desires most - a piano.”
     Sirus chortled as if he was making some marvelous fun, and then popped right back into his salamanderin fixation and stilled. A moonless lake.
    “Because the joy of hearing, and especially that of muusiccc,” he continued, (I was not so sure he drew this word out but in my mind it was long and forbidden)is not so distant from the joy of sight, and while you’ve got the most important one, why not indulge a wit in your other sensory blessings, while pleasing your dear Sophia’s long contemplated desire?” He lifted a dark creeping eyebrow – one brow so thick it appeared to be dark green itself – and beamed.
      “A man so well endowed as yourself should never be slight in the way of spending, but should rather ensure that all around him and nearest him,” He held up his index finger, as if to emphasize the wisdom of his didactic ideas, “are the happiest clams that could be. Make your choice young man,” The shrink peered at his watch. “Joy for all, or selfishness for you? Conquer your ailment, dear Trenton. Destroy your fear of music before it destroys you.”
     The clock tower rang out – twelve bells on the dot – the end of my appointment for the day, the beginning of supper, and so the times went on. I should have been offended by the wiles of Dr. Sirus, but I also acknowledged the dull fact of my own appearance in the office – my pale face, remarkably salivating and secreting goo despite the dismal rain that flew as flying fish – despite the reckless self-sufficiency that my kind is so often equipped with – despite countless mystical genies that patiently waited in my cellar with clasped paper hands and mournful golden eyes, listening acutely for my every command, yet eventually passing into others’ hands – despite all these, my mind fostered guilt with all the fervor of a petri dish and yet despised anger.  My eyes drifted down, peered into my own perspiring palms, and understood at once that I could not grasp coppers much longer.  Such relentless guilt! Such surprise! I, by Jove, had been caused to perspire! I have withheld the one gift that my young, impressionable wife could truly appreciate. My dread of musical devices – of the clanging and piercing clash of symbols – of the petrifying rasp of flute vibrato and the hollering of women… Obsession filled me up until I trembled and sweated and swore. Such was the best day and the worst day and the most anxious day of the year – such was the first anniversary of our marriage.
      She a musician, I a business man. She an artist, I a hunter. The object of disaster threatening most was my terror of the melodic word music, and her love of the same.
     “Get me a piano,” Sophia whispered a fortnight ago, delicately stroking my chest.  “I’ll put it to good use.” Her words struck a frigid cord in my bones. One string of a harp plucked over and over again. My whole being shivered.
     No. No no no. Not getting her a piano. This was the last straw.
     I peered all around at the nearby shops. A barber shop to the left, and young man Bradley waving a razor in the air. It was all brick around in good old Boston. Heat waves of the air were absorbed like potent drugs.  Misers tanning in the lawn were fried up by the sun, throwing a grand alcoholic stink into the air. Greed. Jone’s Books to the right; Jilly Bean’s coffee straight ahead. Citizens swarmed, dressed in the finery of the day –
    A street musician stood on one particular corner. I sensed this fellow was truly proud of his racket, thus I promptly chose a different path. This will add a few extra miles, I contemplated miserably. What an inconvenience, and all due to my cowardice…. From then on a worm of discontent grew up in my stomach, gnawing on my intestines. What device might defeat such a vile trap as fear, as discontent, as the bloody mixture of them both? I must consider our wedding – the sixteenth of July, 1892.
    From the day of our marriage our souls differed directions. Her persona reigned triumphant and I caved – I permitted live music in the ceremony. Violins, violas, the appearance of a Stradivarius. Each wooden beauty haunted my visions and dreams alike. I see their silhouettes even now, trailing at the edge of the abyss. Understand this – my illogical and unprecedented panic at the sound of music dictated nearly all my actions – but not all. Never all.  The allowance of music at my wedding was a genuine demonstration of my sacrificial love for Sophie. Although she did not understand the extent of my suffering, I understood. On the day of our wedding, love suffered a victorious triumph over hatred.
     Now I considered. Was I so incapable of another feat of courage? Could I not torture myself once more for the sake of my beloved through the soft, innocent gifting of a priceless piano? What kind of weak, oily man was I? What better way to despise my whole fear than to look it in the face and spit!
    As I strode down the Boston street, my feet had purpose. I had no need to grace a music store with my presence. No, no music stores. A musical jewel – a cocked hat piano built by the George M. Guild Piano Company of Boston – was already in my possession.
     An heirloom from my mother. Of course, the terror of my childhood persuaded her store it safely in the attic above. No one knew its location but me. I am ever thankful for her sympathy upon such a poor, frightened child. She was a pianist at heart. Perhaps this has ignited the fear of attics – a piano living, creeping inside. I guffawed, acknowledging my own childish antics.
    Yes, now. Now is the time to grow up.
     I reached our mansion. It was of the gods – red brick, silver knobs, French terraces and German efficiency. I grinned. Fitting attire for such a famous piano.
     I called for servant Charles and whispered in his ear.
     He did naught but lean back with saucer eyes and blanch.
     I smiled reassuringly and patted him on the shoulder and he went straight about his duty.
     Sophie, my airy sprite, flew into my arms as I walked through the door. She chattered continually about the happenings of the day and how perhaps she and I might go out to a nice French dinner and visit with the military officers and sit in one of the new tubs filled with steaming water. Her curling hair was pinned to the top of head, and an ostrich comb stuck out the top. A fitting comb. As I listened to her prattle and drank her elixir of light, she did seem to be an ostrich. What a beautiful, showy bird. My beautiful showy bird. The one that gave me courage.
      When I kissed the top of her head her eyes brightened.
     “Charles come forth!” I cried out exultantly, and he and four other panting butlers plowed through our double doors with a large, rolling black item in the midst of them. The rolling item was decorated with a large, flopping red bow tied round.
     “From the attic, sir,” stated Charles. All five butlers eyed me with caution, preparing to restrain or recline me. Time will tell. I managed to overcome. My prize, my Sophie, clung to my arm.
      She covered her mouth in wonder, in awe of the glorious instrument that stood before her – the Guild piano – the masterpiece of a century. It glinted in various places where cast sunlight kissed. Its ornament detail reflected every turn of the century contemplation, every philosophical enlightenment of the arts and of the sciences. Its hue represented wonders of the world.  Black - dark as the deepest crevice in the ocean, hidden from light. White - pearly radiant as an angel’s teeth. Gold – the warbling voice of a dove.
      I shall tell you no more of that night, for my darling Sophie was abundantly amazed and maudlin with thankfulness, and I, through all my suffering and all my anniversary wishes, managed to bear her tickling of the ivory.
      My most bitter anguish originated from an entirely different source….
      The prearranged divorce papers sitting on my desk the next morning. Sophie’s signature, embalmed by ink so dry, struck my heart until it fairly struggled to beat. My dear, innocent, spritely Sophie. My imp. My treasure. The one for whom I sacrificed so much and revealed so little of my pain.
      Sophie had gone. With my heart and soul. With the piano and with the red bow I placed upon it. With… everything that seemed worthy to me at the time.
    
     A sealed letter had been placed next to the signed divorce documents. The red wax was dry as glue. I wished it to be fresh – then something might be done to correct this confusion. Ah! Sophie’s perfume! I recognized the scent straight away. I breathed it, hardly daring to read the flowing script. Content with the scent of my wife as on our wedding night. Then, all at once, greed filling my soul. Remorse. Revenge. I had to know. In sprawling letters, the note read,

“Dearest Trenton,
Thank you very much for the beautiful piano. I adore it. Also, thank you for our single year of marriage, however short it may have seemed. You have been most kind. I have not known such a sweet and sacrificial man for some time. Although I recognized my ultimate desire almost immediately after our first engagement, it would be… unfair of me to act as if my love to you was entirely untrue. I felt as if I was a captive and you the captor, yet your willful passions inclined a steady ear to my spirit. I was quite fond of you. However, I must insist I have always loved music more than I ever loved you. Rest assured, an investigation will only reveal what you already know to be true.
   



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pulitzer

I. I am reading a children’s book called Hamish and Trieta , in which Hamish is a cow and Trieta is a bird. These two become fast friends. Good pals. Buddies. Sometimes the bird sits upon the cow’s back. Often the cow wishes he might sit upon the bird’s back, but of course this is impossible. The poor darling bird simply flits away, c hirping, chirping, always chirping, full of nonsense, not explaining. They fall apart, like many others in this fickle universe. Separated. I close Hamish and Trieta . What a hideous story. I was seduced by its whimsical cover, entranced by its gilded pages. Mother bought it for me ages ago from some downtown bookstore with cerulean walls.  Pulitzer, declares the cover, in golden script. I do not understand what a Pulitzer is and I do not particularly care.             I am a child, yet I know that horrid things do not deserve Pulitzer awards. Rage, like vomit, pools in my throat. ...

There aren't any servals in the zoo.

Have you met my older sister Kayla? She’s short with light eyes, and she’s full of wisdom. “When you sit down to do something, you’ve just got to do it,” she says, with determination. She’s a stubborn one. At some point she decided to have a garden of petunias and pansies, and she did it, didn’t she? They bloomed up all purple and velvety. We like to sit out there with the flowers and have tea. You can count on Kayla to say what she’s thinking. “There are demons inside of you,” she says at our tea party today. One of the things she likes to do is to scare me. Isn’t that what older sisters are for? To take away a bit of childish wonder. Kayla will sometimes linger in the dark hallway by the bathroom and one time I was walking to the bathroom and just saw her body there and slowly felt her to see if she were real, and she said “boo!” What a terror. Older sisters are the worst. “I believe you,” I say, about the demons. I feel the demons inside of me sometimes, eating porridge f...

Which is why they have sailed

I. It’s strange for Claudia, who has never been boating before, to live in a boat. Its name is Arden.             “Why do we live in a boat if we never go boating anywhere?” Claudia once asked her father. Her parents are both short, so at least they fit under the snug roof. Claudia won’t be short, but for now she is. “Bah,” Her father says, “We’re always going somewhere. Just think of Attila the Hun.” She always thought that comment did not make sense. He flips an egg on the stove, “Just use your imagination.” If you walk by you can see how charming the Arden is—look at that little window with Claudia’s father frying eggs. Look at his kind face with his curly, white-haired head too-big-for-a-hat. He is moving back and forth in a kind kitchen, with a miniature flowerpot on the windowsill. These are clay flowers—they keep on living even if they have been forgotten (except that Claudia broke one of the pedals recently, o...