Date: Fri, 21 Jan 2005 23:16:03 -0500 (EST)
From: Sean R <seanr_13@yahoo.ca>
Subject: The Missing Piece of a Piano - 5

The Missing Piece of a Piano
By: Sean Roberts

Author's Note: All feedback is appreciated.  Please send to seanr_13@yahoo.ca

Bar 5

On Monday morning she has some alcohol left over from the
weekend.  She went to a party with her friends and was the one
to take the excess home.  Faye corners Daniel in the parking lot
and tells him that she wants to spend the day with him.

They end up at his house where together they cook
breakfast.  His parents will not be home until the evening, so
the house is theirs.  He does not show her any more of the house
than the kitchen.

"Is it okay, you know, if you drink?" she asks.  It is too
late for this consideration, now that she has already put the
idea into his head.

"Yes.  It's not a big deal if I do it once in a while."

They remain in the kitchen.  She now knows where the
glasses are kept and she takes some out while he takes ice out
of the freezer.  They sit on the kitchen counter, the glasses
and the drinks in between them.  They are seventeen so they want
to get drunk quickly.  She pours two, somewhat equal proportions
over the ice in the glass.  They drink it down quickly.  He
gives up after the third one; she has five.

When the alcohol starts to go to her head she announces to
him that she has not seen the rest of the house, and she
immediately leaves the kitchen to find the stairs.  He follows
her, laughing each time she asks him "whose room is this?"

"I didn't know you had a brother," she says when they reach
Mark's room.  She is ready to move on but he stays, leaning
against the white door frame, staring at the closet.

One day, after his brother took the violin from him, he was
going through his brother's room out of boredom.  He saw the
violin placed carefully in Mark's closet.  Now he stares at the
closed door of the closet, wondering if the instrument is behind
it now that they are in a different house.  He decides that he
does not want to know and he shuts the door.  They go
downstairs.

She sees the music room and lets out a squeal of excitement
when she sees the piano.  "It's beautiful!" she exclaims.  She
goes up to it and runs her hand along the bench and the piano to
feel the smoothness of the polished wood.  "I'm going to play
something!" she announces childishly, sitting on the stool.
Slowly she lifts the cover, snapping it into an open position.
Suddenly, without warning, she presses down hard on a random
mixture of keys.  As soon as the sound begins to wear out she
turns to Daniel and laughs.

He sits on the couch to her left.  He wants her to either
play properly or stop fooling around.  Like Keith, Daniel has no
sense of humour about music.  She senses this from the look on
his face and turns to him.  "Okay.  There's this piece I've been
working on.  I can't play very much of it, or very well, so you
have to promise not to make fun of me."

"I promise," Daniel says, though he no longer wants her to
play.  He is not happy that she set out conditions with which
she will play his instrument.  He looks around the room, taking
in the light, airy walls and pausing on a piece of art he has
not noticed before.  Then suddenly he hears a familiar note, and
looks at her again.

Of course, all of the notes on the piano are familiar.  He
knows them all because he has played them all at one point or
another.  But starting with that note and continuing with the
next one, and then the one after that, gives him a strong sense
of déjà vu.  He begins to wish desperately that he had not been
drinking.  The alcohol blocks the memory.  And she is playing it
slowly; he cannot catch the melody.  Then suddenly she stops.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks quickly.

"That's all I know.  I'm sorry."

"No, no it was very nice.  Could you play it again?"  She
presses a key with her right hand, then the next one, and he
immediately recognizes it.  It is the Chopin piece he
accidentally found in the library.  But there is something
different about it.  She plays only with her right hand.  Only
the melody emerges from the piano and he longs to hear more.
She stops again.

Daniel stands and walks over to her.  He places the fingers
of his left hand on top of some keys.  "Start again," he says.
She does so and he jumps in on the third note.  Then suddenly,
he forgets what he is supposed to play next.  He takes his eyes
off his hands and looks at her, trying to picture the music.
And then his hand moves.  He skips two notes as she has not
stopped playing and continues.  She looks at him too, surprised
that he can provide the accompaniment from his head.

And then she stops.  It is all she knows.  But he does not.
He replaces her right hand with his own and plays more of the
piece.  He goes for three more bars, throwing himself deeply
into the music.  The notes are bringing back a memory of
something, but there are no sounds or images in his mind that
tell him what it is.  Exasperated he stops playing suddenly and
quickly shuts the cover.  What is it, he asks himself.  He
remembers that he was not using the pedals.  The piece calls for
them though he can not recall where or which ones.  But this is
not it.  There is something else missing from the music.

The sound of Faye's faint clapping makes him turn to her.
She is smiling.  He stands up.  "That was really good," he says.
She laughs.

"I can't even play both hands!  You know what I should do?
Cut off your left hand.  That way, whenever I want to play this
piece, it'll be there to play the second half."  They laugh and
then together, they sink into one of the couches.  The room is
set up for an audience.  It is a music room containing only one
instrument.  The couches are there not to create music but to
absorb it.

He has his arm around her shoulders and they stop laughing.
He can feel the round bone of her shoulder through her shirt.
He wants to move his hand further down, to feel more of her arm,
but he dares not because he does not know how she would feel
about it.  She turns to him and looks into his eyes.  He
suddenly feels sober, as if the alcohol is no longer influencing
his mind.  He can see, clearly, that she wants him to kiss her.
The thought excites him but something stops him from doing it.
He looks away and she suddenly feels un-comfortable in his arms.

"I should go," she says.

"I'll drive you."

"You can't."

"You're right.  You'll be okay?"

"I don't live that far.  I'll be fine walking.  Thanks for
breakfast."

"Thanks for playing."

"I should be saying that to you."  He walks her to the door
and watches her as she puts on her shoes.  "I'll see you
tomorrow."  She walks out the door.  He does not even wave good-
bye.

He returns to his piano and lifts the cover.  He plays the
right hand of the first few bars and thinks of her.  He plays it
again and he can feel her shoulder.  Not knowing where the notes
are coming from he plays more.  He manages to play through to
the end, his left hand concentrating on another part of his
body.  He times his orgasm so that it occurs at the end of the
piece.  He smiles when the music stops.  He now has half a song
that reminds him of her.

*

The next day she asks him out.  He is surprised; he thought
it went without saying.  Of course, is his response.  He is glad
that it is official, though he thinks back to the day before.
She was obviously not sure what she wanted until then, or
possibly until this morning.  It was either his playing or her
want for a kiss that made her ask.