Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 00:28:34 -0500
From: Sequoyah <sequoyah@charter.net>
Subject: Mountain Magic Ch. 34

Mountain Magic

Chapter 34

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Comments

This will be the last of Mountain Magic for awhile. I hit a writer's block
from while I think I might be recovering, but with the end of the
semester--and 30 major research papers to read--the approaching holidays
and assorted duties, it will likely be awhile before I get back to
writing. In the meantime, your comments, good, bad or indifferent are
appreciated at sequoyah@charter.net

Sequoyah

Chapter Thirty-four

It was dark by the time Tom dropped us off after we had finished the
lodge. Granddad had done our chores. Since they had no idea when we would
return, Granddad and Grandmom had had supper when we arrived. Jason, Wesley
and I found plenty to fix for ours.

After supper, I decided I'd put in an hour of practice. It went very well I
thought and I decided I'd just not worry about the concert and didn't, for
the next hour or so!

When I walked into the den, Jason and Wesley were having a ball laughing at
an article in the Asheville Citizen-Times. The article was in the Lifestyle
section and headlined, "Teen Heart Throb Also Plays Piano." The two had
told me when I agreed to an interview I wouldn't like what came of it. They
were right. Why are talent and performance not what reporters latch on to
when writing about an artist? They don't and the article proved it. The
stuff they chose to write about was "celebrity" stuff. There were
paragraphs about my parents being killed, my living with my grandparents
"in culturally impoverished Haynes county," about my playing baseball,
being an honors student, all sorts of stuff--except about my playing.

And the pictures. There were pictures taken during the rescue of
Jonathan--the ones from the hospital, not the news conference
ones--baseball pictures, school pictures. All in all the article and
pictures took the half the front page of the Lifestyles section. All that
and the only mention of my playing aside from the headline was a closing
sentence, "Oh, and he also plays piano." There wasn't even a mention of the
upcoming concert!

There was a second article in the Arts and Culture section about the next
week's concerts. Maestro Alexis had been interviewed and talked at length
about the program. He did emphasize that I would be soloist and he
anticipated my touring with the orchestra during the summer.

Professor Jamison had also been interviewed and he told how I ended up
coming to him for lessons. He said he knew my style and technique would
continue to develop and pointed out I was only sixteen. "He's young; he's
talented; he's energetic and enthusiastic. Most of all, I suspect, he loves
to play and it shows. That's important."

The article even included excerpts from an interview with Madame Lipinsky,
my old piano teacher in Durham. She had said she always knew I would go
far.

The picture accompanying that article was one of me in formal wear Grandmom
insisted I have made. It was done by one of the best professional
photographers in Asheville who had been recommended by Maestro. While I
liked, Jason and Grandmom were both thrilled with it. In all Mr. van
Oppen's finely, I was standing beside my piano, looking like I was making
love to it, I said. Grandmom and Jason disagreed. "You look like a serious
artist, which you are," Grandmom insisted.

I don't remember much of the week before the concerts. I had a few
nightmares--you know, I appeared on stage and then realized I am naked, or
couldn't find my music, or couldn't hear the orchestra. I found myself
being called to attention at school when I was daydreaming, often "playing"
a piece on my desk.

Jason pretty much gave me a wide berth in spite of the fact that he
insisted on driving me to rehearsals.  I came home Monday night a nervous
wreck and admitted I had been so engaged in thinking about the concert I
almost rear-ended a logging truck--sure death had it happened. When Jason
insisted ion driving me, I asked about his job he said his crew could
handle things without him and it did.

A couple times over the weekend he asked me about something and I snapped
at him. When it happened again Wednesday on the way to Asheville, I burst
into tears and started blubbering apologies. Jason pulled into the
emergency lane, stopped the Jeep and just held me close and said he knew it
was nerves.

It was, of course, but when I mentioned the incident to Maestro Alexis I
added nerves were no excuse for being rude and hurting the person I loved
more than life itself. I guess I thought he's tell me it was OK and just
nerves, but he didn't. He surprised me when he said, "You're right. It's no
excuse."

Wednesday helped in a lot of ways. Seeing how I was treating Jason and
Maestro Alexis bringing me up short about it was a part of that. A very
good rehearsal in which Maestro had to stop very few times to go over a bit
and the fact that it was, with one exception, the orchestra which was
messing up boosted my ego.

I thought it never would, but Friday finally arrived. All the family
thought I should cut school, but I went on anyway. Of course, for all I
learned I may as well have stayed in bed. But I think the same could be
said for the whole school--teachers as well as students. It was, after all,
the last day of school before spring break.

As soon as school was out, I went home, showered and got dressed. I was
getting into my glad rags just before the concert, so I dressed in casuals
and put my formal wear in the Jeep. Jason was again driving me and I was
glad. Wesley and the grandparents left before us. They were having dinner
before the concert, but I wasn't. I knew if I had dinner before it would
likely end up in the toilet if I were lucky and on stage if I wasn't.

Friday's concert was sold out early, partly because it was a regularly
scheduled part of the season and season ticket holders accounted for well
over three quarters of the audience. The weekend's concerts were also part
of new efforts to introduce more people to symphonic music and to the
hometown symphony.

I think everyone was surprised when half the tickets were sold as soon as
the Saturday performance was announced. The marketing people had developed
a sales pitch designed to capitalize on children, parents and friends
visiting western North Carolina for Easter. A lot of tickets were purchased
by those who wanted to having bragging rights about Asheville's cultural
side.

By the time I had changed into formal wear Friday, I was so nervous I was
afraid I'd faint dead away as soon as I stepped on stage. I guess Maestro
had some sense of my anxiety and when Jason had walked me to the green
room, Maestro asked him if he'd like to stay backstage. He got a great
smile on his face and, "How'd you know?"  Maestro smiled and showed him
where he could sit and see the stage after he had walked me to the
wings. When I was ready to go on stage, Jason kissed me and went to take
his place.

The first half of the concert was, for me, a sheer delight as I played the
Grieg, which I dearly love. In the second half, I had played Rachmaninov's
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini immediately after intermission. I also had
the last piece, Beethoven's "Emperor " concerto.

Maestro announced an encore--a solo--and I played Carr's "Rondo: Yankee
Doodle" from his "The Siege of Tripoli." When I finished, the audience
stood and kept on and on applauding. Maestro finally held up his hand,
looked at me and asked, "You have something else you can play?" and
laughed. "Takai's "Fantasy on the Theme 'Astro Boy'," I replied. Maestro
looked shocked, shrugged and bowed to me.  "I guess you get to choose," he
said. When I finished, I bowed and we left the stage as the audience
finally stopped applauding and started leaving.

All in all, it was a grand and wonderful concert and I was really high as
Jason met me in the wings, hugged me and gave me a great kiss, which I
returned. We didn't care who saw.

The grandparents and Wesley came backstage as soon they could make it, but
had to wait on me as I was swamped by people--young and old--who wanted
programs signed and that sort of thing.

When I finally got free, the grandparents and Wesley kept hugging me and
telling me how great I was. Even normally reserved Granddad kept hugging me
and laughing. I wondered where Wes was and said so. Wesley said, "He said
he had tickets for Sunday when Luke and Matt will be here. Said tell you he
knew you were tops."

 "Well, we've going on home," Granddad finally said, hugging me
again. "Jason, be careful driving home."

As they were about to leave, Maestro Alexis came up and I introduced
them--again. I had introduced them after the Sampler, but Maestro could
hardly have been expected to remember as he was very preoccupied that
evening. "You have a wonderfully talented grandson," he said. "But I
suspect you have known that. What you may not know is how his manners and
good heart have impressed those who have met him here--from first fiddle to
the janitor--and of course, the conductor."

The grandparents thanked him, and as he turned to walk away, Granddad again
reminded Jason to drive carefully and Grandmom said, again, "And do get
something to eat," as if I would starve myself to death.

Maestro turned and asked, "You haven't eaten?"

"No, he hasn't and for that you can be thankful," Jason laughed. "The kid
had a habit--well, you don't want him to eat when he's under pressure."

"Mrs. McElrath, he and I are both due at a reception right now, but I
promise I will see that he eats before I let him go and if it's too late,
I'll give you a call and my wife will put these two up for the night."

The reception was for symphony Patrons, a designation which cost them a
thousand a year--but as Jason reminded me, with a grin, "They do get two
season tickets and all the watercress sandwiches they can eat."

The sandwiches weren't watercress, but nothing I really wanted to eat. I
needed real food--soon.

By the time the reception as half over, my face hurt from smiling and my
fingers from signing programs. I posed for pictures with men and women and
generally stood around being nice. I thought I'd die of hunger--well, if I
didn't die of thirst first. I sure didn't want to drink any of the sweet
punch on an empty stomach. What I really wanted was plain, cold water. When
I finally caught Jason's eye and gave him a signal, he took a punch cup to
a drinking fountain and brought me a cup of much wanted and needed water.

As I drained the cup, I saw a woman in a dazzling black gown headed toward
me and recognized her at once. It was Mrs. van Oppen. When she reached me,
she grabbed me and kissed me on both cheeks and said, "Douglas, you were
absolutely magnificent! I was so pleased that I had a tinny-tiny part in
your evening. And to be honest, my young man, Mr. van Oppen never looked as
splendid as you did in his outfit and he was a real looker. He, and the
tailor, would be pleased. And who is this handsome young man by your side?
He is by your side is he not?" Mrs. van Oppen asked and raised an eyebrow.

"Mrs. van Oppen, this is my partner, Jason Talltree." I responded without
hesitation, then caught myself, wondering how Jason would react. "Jason,
Mrs. van Oppen."

"Mrs. van Oppen, delighted to meet you. Thank you for making it possible
for my partner to look as splendid as he does," Jason replied and I
breathed a sigh of relief. 'Course I should have known Jason didn't care
after kissing me in front of God and everybody.

 "I'm only glad the outfit has found someone worthy of filling it. But
enough of this mutual admiration. Douglas, are you like Mr. van Oppen was?
He could never eat before a concert."

"I can answer that," Jason chuckled, "not only can he not eat, but it would
be a disaster if he did."

"The let's split the joint in a few minutes and go to my place for some
real food," the previously very dignified woman said as she did a
Roadrunner "poised to run" stance.

"Would love to," I replied, "but Maestro is planning on Jason and me
accompanying him for dinner."

"That's fine. He'll be coming to my place as well. I guess Elizabeth, his
wife, hasn't told him yet."

"Then let's roll," Jason said, offering his arm to Mrs. van Oppen.

"Want me along?" I asked.

"Oh, you can come along or you can hang around and my driver will bring you
along with Maestro and Elizabeth. Your choice."

I laughed and said, "I don't want to put a crimp in Jason's style. You two
go on and I'll be be a 'nice young man' a while longer and come along with
Maestro and his wife." As I spoke, I saw Maestro coming toward us with a
absolutely stunning woman on his arm. When they reached us, Maestro said,
"Douglas, my wife Elizabeth Jamison; Elizabeth, Douglas McElrath."

I did the bow and hand kissing thing and then said, "Elizabeth,
delighted. My partner, Jason Talltree."

Jason shook hands and Mrs. van Oppen said, "I am spiriting Jason away from
Douglas. My driver will meet you all at the stage door." Jason offered his
arm to Mrs. van Oppen and the two headed for the stage door.

"You certainly had a handsome friend," Mrs. Jamison said. "Is he just a
friend or...."

"Elizabeth, don't you think that's a bit personal?" Maestro asked.

Ms. Jamison blushed and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude, but I
thought you introduced him as your partner...."

"I did; he is; and you were not at all rude," I replied. "And if I'm not
being rude, you're Ms. Jamison?"

"Surprised you haven't noticed a family resemblance. Professor Jamison is
my brother.

"I guess I can see a family resemblance," I replied, "and I must say it
looks better on you than on him," and laughed.

"I see you have discovered the power of flattery," she laughed in turn,
"but, Alexis, let's get out of here. I'm starved.

When we got outside, a large black Cadillac, land yacht vintage, was
waiting. When we came out of the door, a driver in a smart uniform hopped
out of the car and started opening doors. I was unsure of where I should
sit until Maestro took my arm and ushered me into the back. The driver had
seated Elizabeth so I was between the two--but not squeezed! The old car
was big, roomy, elegant and looked as if it had just come off the show room
floor.

 I didn't know Asheville well, but I did realize we were headed in the
direction of the Biltmore Estate, prime attraction of Asheville. Just past
the entrance to the estate, the driver turned right into Biltmore Forest
which is spelled M-O-N-E-Y. It's one of those "if you have to ask the
price, you can't afford it" neighborhoods. We finally arrived in front of a
huge house, Tudor style, set in a beautifully landscaped area. The
landscaping was designed to give a feeling of the house being alone in the
midst of an ancient forest and accomplished that very well.

Mrs. van Oppen met us at the door, took our coats and handed them to a
maid--a real one with the little white cap, frilly apron and all. Taking my
arm, she showed us into a large, elegant library. "Douglas, Jason assured
me your grandparents wouldn't mind if you two have a glass of champagne to
celebrate a wonderful concert and magnificent playing on your part." As she
spoke, she handed me a glass from a tray the maid brought, then took a
glass for herself. As soon as the rest of the party had a glass she raised
hers and said, "To Douglas who plays as good as he looks!"

When we had finished our champagne, she said, "There's more if you would
like, but I'm starved and I know Jason and Douglas are. They are growing
bo...young men." She lead us into a dining room where we had a wonderful
meal, although there were a couple things I couldn't identify.

While we were eating, she asked about Jason and my background, how we had
the same grandparents, how long we had been a couple, that sort of
thing. Before long Maestro and Ms. Jamison joined in. Finally Jason laughed
and said, "I thought there were supposed to be only twenty questions or is
this a new game?"

"We are just completely taken with you two," Ms. Jamison said. "Today it
seems all you hear about are teens in trouble, then you two show
up. Douglas, Alexis tells me you play as though you were much older and
with much more experience, yet you have lost your family, are gay--and
let's face it, that means you have had to face a lot of heartache and now
because you and Jason are a couple, a lot of nonsense no doubt."

Maestro then brought up the rescue of Jonathan and that started a whole new
conversation. Finally Mrs. van Oppen said, "Desert in the library. Coffee,
tea, hot chocolate?" When she got that all sorted out, we went into the
library where we had some kind of wonderful chocolate desert and Jason and
I had hot chocolate rather than coffee or tea.

Finally Mrs. van Oppen said, "Children, it's 12:30 and we all should have
been in bed long ago, but it has been a wonderful evening. Alexis, I'll
take care of the boys and Chandler will drive you home. If you like, come
by for brunch, say 11:00. We'll let these two sleep in a bit."

After Maestro and Elizabeth left, I said, "We really need to call the
grandparents. I'm sure they are long in bed if they are not awake worrying
about us."

"No need to worry," Jason responded. "I called as soon as Mrs. van Oppen
and I arrived."

"I was really pleased with your handsome partner, Douglas. We were barely
in the door before he was on the phone. A very responsible young man."

"I guess we are pretty careful to keep the grandparents aware of what's
going on. After all, we would be out in the cold without them."

"I hope it's more than that," Mrs. van Oppen said.

"It is. Of course it is. I guess it's sometimes hard for teenagers to say
it, but they mean more to me than anything else in the world--well, except
Doug. I was, literally, without family and without a roof over my head and
they took me in and love and care for me more than my own mother did. Yes,
Ma'am, they mean all the world to me," Jason said, almost teary eyed.

"Of course, I'm a natural grandson, but as Jason said, they mean the world
to me as well."

A few minutes later, Mrs. van Oppen was showing us to a guest
room. "There's toothbrushes and paste and all that stuff in the bathroom,"
she said. "I suspect you'll not want them, but there are PJs in the
chest. I'll let you two sleep in and we'll have brunch at 11:00."

We said our goodnights and within minutes, Jason and I were in bed,
snuggled in each other's arms, sound asleep.

I guess I was really tired as I slept through the night and if I even
dreamed, I forgot it when I was finally awakened when Jason kissed me. He
was already dressed. "Doug," he said, "you need to get a move on. We're
expected at brunch in twenty minutes."

I hopped out of bed, made a bee line to the bathroom, bled my lizard, then
showered and got dressed, all within the allotted twenty minutes.

Maestro and Elizabeth did show up for brunch. It was a very relaxed time
and we lingered over it until almost 12:30. "If I'm going to get back for a
performance tonight, I need to get to "culturally deprived" Haynes county,"
I finally said.

The drive home was uneventful beyond the fact that Jason kept going on
about how proud he was of me and my performance. I'll admit I soaked it up
big time.

Saturday night's concert was a real test. Just after the last note of the
opening number sounded, the lights went out. The emergency lights came on,
of course, and when they did, a gentleman in uniform--a policeman--was
walking toward Maestro. The two talked briefly and a minute later, Maestro
walked to the front of the stage and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have
been advised that the emergency generator has malfunctioned. If you will
make an orderly exit, it would be helpful. It's a pleasant night outside,
so if you like, just wait around and as soon as the situation is cleared
up, the concert will go on."

The orchestra went out the stage door and as we got to the alley behind the
theater, there were police in strange gear waiting to go in. Jason was
waiting for me outside and about the time he reached me, Maestro called
out, "If you all will gather 'round, I'll tell you what I know."

We all gathered in the parking lot behind the theater and Maestro told us
the police had cut the power to the building because they had received a
phone call telling them there was a bomb in the theater. "I don't know the
ins and outs of it, but apparently it was supposed to be connected to the
power somehow. I guess we need to expect this sort of thing after
9/11. Anyway, I noticed some of you brought your instruments--I guess the
piano's not yours so you weren't concerned about it, Douglas," he grinned
at me. "I'm told we'll be allowed back in as soon as the police are sure
it's safe. In the meantime, we might make some music for the audience on
the sidewalk."

In five minutes, those with instruments had gathered a couple blocks from
the theater in a tiny park and started an impromptu concert. Not only were
the concert goers enjoying it, but also a sizable crowd who were just out
strolling in a pleasant spring evening.

Thirty minutes later, we were back in the hall and Maestro told the
audience, "I'm sure you all know we just had a bomb threat. I am very
pleased with how well you handled it. While we'll start the concert from
the beginning, of course, I think we all need a few minutes to get in the
mood." He then announced "American the Beautiful" and invited the audience
to join in. He had the orchestra--and me--play a couple other things and
the audience sang. It took care of the nerves because in the singing, we
all came together. In a way I had never realized before, the audience is as
much a part of the concert as are the musicians. I hoped I remembered
that. When I mentioned it to Jason later he said, "Yeah, well, how would a
concert differ from a rehearsal if you didn't have an audience?" Good
question.

Sunday's paper had a front page story about the bomb scare at the concert
and the music editor raved about the concert and the professionalism of the
orchestra in light of the scare.

When we finished Saturday night, Maestro told us the Sunday afternoon
concert was only about half sold and apologized for scheduling it. "I'd
hoped the matinee would be a real draw Easter afternoon. I was mistaken."
We all assured him we knew he was working to make the orchestra known and,
obviously, Asheville wasn't there yet.

Sunday morning, Wesley and Jason were up and ready to do chores before I
was awake, but as they started down the stairs, I heard them and called
out, "Hold up."

Jason came in to our room, kissed me good morning--making a face at my
dragon mouth--and said, "We thought we'd let you sleep in since you have
concert this afternoon."

"I'm not special," I responded.

"Well, you are special, but that has nothing to do with chores. You got
home late last night, had a real tense time with the bomb scare and all
that. So let me and Wesley pamper you just a little bit." He kissed me and
rushed down the stairs to join Wesley.

While we were eating breakfast, the phone rang and Grandmom got up and
answered it. When she came back to the table, she said, "That was Wes
Bushyhead. He asked if the eleven o'clock service was still at eleven. I
told him it was at ten thirty. "

When Grandmom had finished we were all laughing. When we calmed down a bit,
Jason asked, "Did you tell him the Sunday service was still on Sunday?"

Grandmom realized what she had said and laughed, then added, "Well, we all
still talk about the eleven o'clock service and it had been at ten thirty
at Grace for at least ten years. Guess Episcopalians are wed to an eleven
o'clock service, but don't care when it is."

"Yeah," Wesley said, "like the midnight Christmas Eucharist is at eleven."

"Anyway, he wanted to know because he had guests who will be coming to
Grace. Didn't say who they were and I'm surprised Wes even agreed to come
with them."

"He against church?" Wesley asked.

"He was once a faithful member at Grace. Ten-fifteen years ago, I guess,
when his mother and father were ill, he asked the priest--it was before
Fr. Hansen's time--to bring them communion and he refused when he couldn't
find their names in the church register. Fool didn't know there had been a
mission in Sadies Cove. When the people started moving out of the cove, it
was closed. Fr. Hansen and Wes have become friends, but Fr. Hansen doesn't
push and Wes is not ready to budge yet."

I wondered how the people would react to Wes when he showed up, expecting
him to be wearing his "mountain man Indian" outfit. I was the one in for a
surprise. Wes showed up dressed to the nines and had two people with
him. As soon as I saw them I realized they had to be Matt and Luke. One had
a head of blond hair even curlier and blonder than Hank and the other had
black hair which he wore in a braid which reached below his ass--and a cute
ass it was!

It was definitely spring and we were standing outside in the April sun when
they arrived. Wes introduced them and when he did, Matt said, "Understand
you have a concert this afternoon."

"Yeah, and it looks like the audience will be outnumbered by the
orchestra."

"Don't count on it. Wes said there were only a few good tickets left when
he logged on to check on tickets he had ordered for us."

While we were talking, Tom and his parents arrived. Introductions were made
and it was time to go inside.

I always thought Easter with baby chicks, dyed eggs and a dead man scaring
people was a strange mixture of nonsense. I guess maybe when I was older
and thinking about death, it might have more appeal, but not now. With that
attitude, I was prepared to daydream during the sermon--Granddad once said
daydreaming during a sermon probably produced more results than most
sermons. Fr. Hansen agreed with him! Fr. Hansen tried hard, but his Easter
sermon was no better than his usual. I guess I'm just not into sermons. As
Mr. Dennison said, I guess I go for the pomp and circumstance of it all.

Grandmom hadn't told us, but when Wes called, she had invited him and his
guests to dinner. She had invited Tom earlier. We had a grand time at
dinner although I ate little. Even with all going on around me, I got
butterflies about the concert, especially since I knew Matt would be in the
audience.

Jason and I got ready to leave for Asheville before the others. Jonathan
was going with Tom. Tom has asked Hank and Beth to ride with them and they
did. Brad, Jeremy, Josh and Kathy had all come to the Dennisons for Easter
weekend and they were also attending the matinee.

I guess the pretty Easter Sunday helped attendance. Maestro suggested
grandkids had finally driven grandparents to seek an escape from chaos and
the concert seemed like such an escape. For whatever reason, there was a
grand audience.

The concert went very well and Matt hugged me as soon as he could get
backstage and said, "Good to see another noble savage who can make
music. And while I definitely prefer my instrument to yours, you are damn
good. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

When we were on our way home--Jason and I were alone and as much as you can
in a Jeep, I was snuggled against him--he said, "Wes told me he had checked
with everyone and all agreed to gather this evening at his place for a
simple supper. We'll fast after that until the sweat is over. After supper,
we'll hike to the lodge where we'll bed down. Everyone will be up before
sunrise, but we'll find out about that this evening. Wes was wondering if
you could make it. He said Matt had told him he suspected you'd be worn out
after three concerts. 'The let down alone is enough to take the starch out
of him,' Matt had said."

"Maybe it'll hit later, but right now I feel pretty good. Anyway, it's only
3:30 now--when are we to be at Wes's place?"

"He said about 5:30-6:00 would be a good time."

"Great, I can take an hour nap and be ready to roll."

Jason tucked me in and before he was out of the room, I was sound asleep.