CHAPTER 35

  "Themonsterneverbreathes,"theposerBerliozsupposedlylaidaboutthean,butIfoundtheoppositetobetrue.WhenIplayedIfeltaliveandatohthemae,asifexhalingthemusic.TessandEdwardvisitedthestudiotohearthelengtheningshapeofmypositionandattheendoftheperformancemysonsaid,"YouweremovingthesameasIwasbreathing."Overthecourseofayear,IworkedonthesymphonyduringwhathoursIcouldsteal,regeingitstantlyfromthedesiretofess,seekingtocraftatexturethatwouldallowmetoexplaihatifshecouldbuthearmystoryinthemusic,Tesswouldsurelyuandandfive.Inmystudio,Icouldtakerefugeatthekeyboard.Lockthedooranddrawthecurtainstofeelsafeandwholeagain.Losemyself,findmyself,inthemusic.

  Bythespringtime,Ihadsecuredasmallorchestra—awindensemblefromDuquesimpanifrie-Mellon,afewlocalmusis—toperformthepiecewhenitwaspleted.AfterEdwardhadfinishedfirstgradeiesstookhimforatwo-weekvisittohercousinPennystogivemetimealohehousetofinishmysymphony—aworkaboutachildtrappedinhissilence,howthesoundscouldoutofhisownimagination,livingintwoworlds,theinternallifelockedtoallunicationwithoutsidereality.

  Afterstrugglingforyearstofindthemusicforthatstolenchild,Ifinallyfihescorelayspreadoutacrossthean,thescrawledhestavesamarvelofmathematicalbeautyandprecision.Twostoriestoldatthesametime—theinnerlifeaerworldinterpoint.Mymethodwasnottojuxtaposeeachchordwithitsdouble,forthatisy.Sometimesourthoughtsanddreamsaremorerealthaofourexperiendatothermomentsthatwhichhappenstousovershadowsanythingwemightimagine.Ihadnotbeeowritefastenoughtocapturethesoundsinmyhead,hatflowedfromdeepwithin,asifhalfofmehadbeenposing,aherhalfagasamanuensis.Ihadyettofullytranscribethemusicalshorthandandtoassignalloftheinstrumentation—tasksthatmighttakemonthsofrehearsaltoperfect—buttheinitialprocessofsettingdownthebohesymphonyhadmademegiddyandexhausted,asifinawakingdream.Itsrelentlesslogic,straheordinaryrulesoflanguage,seemedtomewhatIhadbeenhopingtowriteallalong.

  Atfiveoclockthatafternoon,hotandwrung-out,Iwenttothekitforabottleofbeer,anddrankitonthestairs.Myplanwasashower,anotherbeerwithdinner,andthenbacktowork.Inthebedroomcloset,theemptyspaceswhereherclotheshadbeenremindedmeofTess,andIwishedshehadbeeosharethesuddenburstofcreativityandaplishment.Momentsaftersteppingintothehotshower,Iheardaloudcrashdownstairs.Withoutturningoffthewater,Isteppedout,edatowelaroundmywaist,andhurriedtoiigate.Ohewindowsinthelivingroomhadbeenbroken,andglasslayallovertherug.Abreezeflappedthecurtains.Halfnakedanddrippi,Istoodtherepuzzled,untilasuddendiscordanthammeringofthepianokeysfrightenedme,asifacathadwalkedacrossit,butthestudiotyandsilent.Itookalonglookaround.

  ThescorewasgooablewhereIhadleftit,notfallentothefloor,notahewindoedopen,andIrantolookatthelawn.Asolitarypageflutteredacrossthegrass,pushedalongbyathinbreeze,buttherewasnothiosee.Howlingwithangerandpagtheroom,Istubbedmytoeonthepianolegandbeganhoppingupanddownacrosstherug,nearlyimpalingmyfootonapieceofglass,whenanothercrashsoundedupstairs.Footthrobbing,Iclimbedthestepstothelanding,afraidofwhatmightbeinmyhouse,worriedaboutmymanuscript.Mybedroomty.Inoursonsroomanotherwindowhadbeenbroken,butnoglasslitteredthefloor.Shardsontheroofmeantthewindowhadbeenshatteredfromthei.Toclearmyhead,Isatforamomentontheedgeofhisbed.Hisroomlookedthesameasthedayhedleftforthevacation,andthoughtsofEdwardandTessfilledmewithsuddensorroouldIexplainthemissingsymphony?Withoutit,howcouldIfessmytruenature?Ipulledatmywethairtillmyscalpached.Inmymind,mywife,myson,andmymusicwerewoundtogetherinabraidedthatnowthreateounravel.

  Ihroom,theshowerranandran.Acloudofsteambillowedoutintothehallway,andIstumbledthroughthefogtoshutoffthewater.Ontheetmirror,someonehadfingeredwordsonthefoggedsurface:WeNoYourSecret.Copiedabove,notefornote,wasthefirstmeasureofmyscore.

  "Youlittlefuckers,"Isaidtomyselfasthemessagevanishedfromthemirror.

  Afterarestlessandlonesomenight,Idrovetomymothershouseasanewdaybegan.Whenshedidnotimmediatelyanswermyknock,Ithoughtshemightstillbeasleep,aovertothewindowtolookin.Fromthekit,shesawmestandingthere,smiled,andwavedmetoher.

  "Doorsneverlocked,"shesaid."Whatbringsyouhereinthemiddleoftheweek?"

  "Go.taguyeandseehisbestgirl?"

  "Oh,youresuawfulliar.Wouldyoulikeacupofcoffee?HowaboutIfryyouacoupleofeggs?"Shebusiedherselfatthestove,andIsatatthekittable,itssurfacepockedwithmarksleftfromdroppedpotsandpans,nickedbyknives,andlihfaintimpressionsofletterswrittehemlightstirredmemoriesofourfirstbreakfasttogether.

  "SorryIwassolonginansweringthedoor,"shesaidabovethesizzle."IwasonthephohCharlie.HesoffinPhiladelphia,tyinguplooseends.Iseverythingallrightwithyou?"

  Iwastemptedtotellhereverything,beginningwiththenightwetookawayherson,goingbackfurthertoalittleGermanboysnatchedawaybygelings,andendingwiththetaleofthestolenscore.Butshelookedtoocarewornforsufessions.Tessmightbeabletoha,butthestorywouldbreakmymothersheart.heless,Iellsomeoleastprovisionally,ofmypasterrorsandthesinsIwasabouttoit.

  "Ivebeenunderalotofpressurelately.Seeingthings,nottrulymyself.LikeImbeingfollowedbyabaddream."

  "Followedbytroublesisthesignofaguiltysce."

  "Haunted.Aosortitout."

  "Whenyouwereababy,youweretheaomyprayers.Andwhenyouwerealittleboy,remember,Iusedtosingyoutosleepeverynight.Youwerethesweetestthing,tryingtosingalongwithme,butyoucouldnevercarryatuhatcertainlyged.Andsodidyou.Asifsomethinghappeoyouthatnightyouranaway."

  "Itislikethedevilsarewatgme."

  "Dontbelieveinfairytales.Thetroubleisinside,Henry,withyou.Livinginyourownhead."Shepattedmyhand."Amotherknowsherownson."

  "HaveIbeenagoodson,Mom?"

  "Henry."Sherestedherpalmagainstmycheek,agesturefrommychildhooddays,andthegriefoverlosingmyscoreabated."Youarewhoyouare,foodorill,anduringyourselfwithyourowions.Littledevils."Shesmiledasifafreshthoughthadenteredhermind."Haveyoueverthoughtwhetheryourerealtothem?Putthosenightmaresoutofyourhead."

  Istoodtogo,theandkissedhergood-bye.Shehadtreatedmekindlyovertheyears,asifIhadbeenherownson.

  "Iveknownallalong,Henry,"shesaid.

  Ileftthehousewithoutasking.

  Iresolvedtofrontthemandfindoutwhytheyweretormentioflushoutthosemonsters,Iwouldgobatothewoods.TheForestServiceprovidedtopographicalmapsoftheregion,theareasingreenindigwoodland,theroadsdrawiculousdetail,andIlaidagridoverthelikelyareas,dividingthewildernessintomanageableplats.Fortwodays,despitemyloathingfortheforestandmyaversiontonature,Iexploredafewofthosesquares,lookingfortheirlair.ThewoodswereemptierthanwhenIlivedthere—theoccasionalhammeringofawoodpecker,skinkssunningthemselvesonrocks,theraisedwhiteflagofonedeerrunningaway,andthelonesomehumofgreenbottleflies.Notmuchlife,butplentyofjunk—aswollencopyofPlayboy;afour-of-heartsplayingcard;atatteredwhitesweater;asmallmouycigarettepackages;ateen;atortoiseshellnecklaapileofstones;astoppedwatdabookstampedPropertyOftyLibrary.

  Asidefromthedirtonitscoverandtheslightmustyodortoitspages,thebookwasintact.Throughthemildewedpages,thestoryrevolvedaroundareligiousfanatiamedTarwaterorTearwater.Igaveupreadingnovelsinchildhood,fortheirartificialworldsmaskratherthahetruth.sstructelaborateliestothrowoffreadersfromdiscthemeaningbehindthewordsandsymbols,asifitcouldbeknown.ButthebookIfoundmightbejustthethingforafourteen-year-oldhellionorsiousmisfit,soItookitbacktothelibrary.Virtuallynobodywasthereonthatmidsummerday,exceptforacutegirlbehindtheter.

  "Ifoundthisinthewoods.Itbelongstoyou."

  Shelookedatthenovelasifitwerealosttreasure,brushedoffthegrime,ahebackcover."Justaminute."Sheleafedthroughastackofstampedcards."Thankyou,butthishasnotbeencheckedoutatall.Didyet?"

  "No,"Iexplained."Ifoundit,andwaoreturnitthtfulowners.Iwaslookingforsomethingelse."

  "MaybeIhelpyou?"Hersmileremindedmeofsomanyotherlibrarians,andasmalltwingeofguiltpokedmeintheribs.

  Ileanedcloseandsmiledather."Doyouhaveanybooksonhobgoblins?"

  Sheskippedabeat."Hobgoblins?"

  "Orfairies.Imps,trolls,sprites,gelings,thatsortofthing?"

  ThegirllookedatmeasifIwerespeakingafnlanguage."Youshouldntleanonthedesklikethat.Theresacardcatalhtoverthere.Alphabeticalbysubject,title,orauthor."

  Ratherthanprovidingshortcutstousefulinformation,onesearchbegatanother,andthecuriouserandcuriot,themorerabbitholespoppedopen.Mysearchforfairiesresultedinforty-twotitles,ofwhichadozenorsomightbeuseful,butthatsearchbranchedoffintogoblinsandhobgoblins,whiturnbranchedofftoabnormalpsychology,childprodigies,andautism.Lunchtimehadeandgone,alightheadedandinneedofsomeair.AtanearbyvenieoreIboughtasandwidabottleofpop,andIsatonabenchbytheemptyplayground,platiaskbeforeme.Therewassomuchtoknow,somuchalreadyfotten.IntherelentlesssunshineIfellasleep,wakingupthreehourslaterwithanastysunburnononearmasideofmyface.Fromthelibrarysbathroommirrorstaredapersondividedintwo,halfofmyfacepale,theotherhalfcrimsoingpasttheyounglibrarian,Itriedtokeepmyprofiletwo-dimensional.

  Mydreamreturnedinfulldetailthatnight.TessandIspokequietlyonthedeckofalocalpool.Afewotherpeoplemilledaboutinthebackground,sunningthemselvesordivingintothecoolwater.Aswallflowers:JimmyCummings,OscarLove,UncleCharlie,BrianUngerland.Allthelibrariansinbikinis.

  "Howhaveyoubeen,mylove?"sheteased."Stillchasedbymonsters?"

  "Tess,itsnotfunny."

  "Imsorry,butnooneelseseethem,sweetheart.Onlyyou."

  "Buttheyreasrealasyouandme.WhatiftheyeforEdward?"

  "TheydontwantEddie.Theywantyou."Shestoodup,tuggedatthebottomofhersuit,andjumpedinthepool.Iplungedinafterher,shockedbyhowcoldthewaterfelt,andfrog-kickedmywaytothemiddle.Tessswamtome,herbodybeingmorestreamlinedandgraceful,ahetopofherheadbrokethesurface,herhairlasteredagainstherscalp.Asshestoppedandstood,thefilmofwaterranoffherface,partinglikeacurtaintorevealnotherfaceatall,butahobgoblinsface,horridandfrightening.Iblanchedandholleredinvoluntarily;thenshegedrightbackagaintoherfamiliarself."Whatsthematter,love?DontyouknowIknowwhoyouare?Tellme."

  Iwentbacktothelibrary,huntedforafewofmytitles,andsatdownataertable.Theresearch,especiallyonhobgoblins,waswronginvirtuallyeveryparticularanderthanmythorfi.Nobodywroteaccuratelyabouttheirhabitsands,howtheylivedindarkness,spyingonhumanchildren,lookingfortherightpersonwithwhomtomakethege.Therewasnotonesinglewordabouthowtogetridofunwantedvisitors.Orhowtoprotectyourchildfromeveryddanger.Lostinthesefairytales,Ibecamehypersensitivetothestillnessofmysurroundings,jarredbythesoundsIthatpeedthesilefirstthenoisesappearedtobetherandomshufflingsofaronlanguidlyturningpages,orohelibrarians,boredoutofhermind,pagthecorridorsorsneakingoutsideforasmoke.Sooneveryminutesoundintensifiedinthemind-numbingquiet.

  Someoheddeeplyandregularly,asifasleep,thenoiseemanatingfromaerminatedire.LaterIheardaraspinginthewalls,andwhenIaskedthecutelibrarian,shesaiditwasonlymice,butthescrabblingwasscratchier,likeafountainpenragacrossapadofpaper.Thatevening,someonebegansingingtunelesslytohimselffromthelowerdepths.Ifollowedthemelodytoaspotinthechildreion.Notasoularound,Ilaydown,pressedmyeartothefloor,andranmyfingersalongtheacarpet,catgmythumbonahardbump,likeahingeorabentnail.Carefullydnearlyindisible,acarpetsquarehadbeehespot,capanelorhatchbelow,andIwouldhaveprieditopen,butthepassinglibrarianstartledmebyclearihroat.Withasheepishgrin,Istoodup,mumbledanapology,abayer.vihatsomethinglivedbehebuilding,Ibroodedoverhowtocatchhimandmakehimtalk.

  m,mybookswereindisarray,titlesscrambledoutofalphabeticalorderandallmybookmarksmissing.Theyhadbeenspyingonmeagain.FortherestofthedayIpreteoread,whileactuallylisteningforanynoisesfrombelow,andonceIwanderedbacktothechildreion.Thecarpetsquarehadbeenslightlyraisedabovethesurfayhandsandkappedonthepanelandrealizedthatahollowspaceexistedbehefloorboards.Maybeoneormoreofthefiendstoiledbelow,hatgplotsandtrickstofurthersavagemylife.Aslightred-hairedboywhistledbehindmybadIquicklystood,stampeddownonthelid,aawaywithoutaword.

  Thatboymademeanxious,soIwentoutandstayedontheplaygrounduntilthelibraryclosed.Theyounglibrariannoticedmeontheswi,butsheturnedaretetocare.Aloneagain,Isearchedthegroundsforevideheyhadfollowedmetothelibrary,theymusthavedugaholeorfouentrancewayintothebuilding.Onmythirdtriparoundthebuilding,intheshadowsofthesun,Isawhim.Behindthebackstairs,hesqueezedoutthroughacrathefoundationlikeababybeingbornandstoodthereforamoment,blinkinginthefadinglight.Afraidthathemightattackme,Ilookedleftandrightforanescaperoute.Heralyatme,asiftoseizemythroatinhisjaws,andthendartedawayasquicklyasabirdinflight,toofastformetoseehimclearly,butthereisnodoubtwhoitwas.Ahobgoblihedangerpassed,Icouldnotkeepfromlaughing.

  Nervousforhours,Idrovearoundandfoundmyselfatmymother’splaearmidnight.Whileshesleptupstairs,Icreptthroughthehousegatheringsupplies:acarpetknife,anironcrowbar,andacoilrope.Fromtheoldbarn,Istolemyfathersakerosenecampinglamp,itswirehayandcoldtothetouch.ThewicksputteredwhenItriedtolightthelamp,butitcametolifeandsuffusedthelong-ederwithahlyglow.

  Insomniagrippedmethoselastfewhours,mymindandbodypfusiuntilthedeedwasdohepredawngloom,Iwentbadmemorizedthelayoutofthebuilding,figuringoutstepbystepwhatIwasgoingtodo.Patienearlydesertedme.Thegoblinmighthavebeenspooked,soIwentaboutmybusinessasifnothinghadeverhappened.Ispentthedayreadingabookaboutremarkablechildren,giftedsavantswhosemindsweredamagedinsuchawaythattheycouldseetheworldonlythroughasolewindowofsoundormathematicsoranotherabstractsystem.IwouldpressthehobgoblinforthestoryofwhathadreallyhappeoGustavUngerlandandtome.

  Butmorethananyexplanation,Isimplyanddesperatelywantedmysymphonyback,forIcouldnotwriteanoteknowingitwasgohingwouldstopmefrommakinghimreturnthescore.IwouldreasonifIcouldbegifImust,orstealitbaeedbe.Bynow,Iwasnolongersomethingwildanddangerous,butIwasittedtorestmylife.

  Unmistakableirredbehefloorallday.Hewasback.Asthelibraryemptied,Ihefroofmycar.SultryAugustheatpouredinthroughthewindows,andIdozedofflohanintehestarshadrisen,andthatshortnaphadenergizedme.Islungtheropearoundmelikeabandolier,tookoutthetools,andskulkedovertothesidewindow.Therewasnotellinghowfarbelowlaytheirunderworld.ingmyfistinatowel,Ipuhroughtheglass,unlockedthewindow,andcrawledthroughtheopening.ThestaedlikeamazeoftuhebookswatgmyeverymovementthroughthedarknessasIcrepttothechildreion.Anxious,Ispentthreewoodenmatchesattemptingtolightthekeroseern.Theoilywicksmokedandatlastcaughtflame.Myshirtgtomysweatybadtheheavyairmadebreathingdifficult.Withtheknife,Icutawaythecarpetsquareandsawthatithadbeeopasmalltrapdoor,easilypriedopenwiththecroerfectsquareseparatedourtwoworlds.

  Lightfilteredupfrombelowandrevealedacrampedroomstrewnwithblasandbooks,bottlesanddishes.Ibentdownforacloserlookandstuckmyheadthroughthehatchway.Asquickasastrikingsnake,hisfaceappearedinfrontofmiinchesfrommynose.Ireizedhimatonce,forhelookedexactlyasIhadasayoungboy.Myrefleinanoldmirror.Hiseyesunmaskedhim,allsoulbutnosubstandhedidnotmovebutstaredbacksilentlywithoutblinking,hisbreathminglingwithmine.Heexpressedion,asifhe,too,hadbeenwaitingforthismomentandforitalltobeover.

  ThischildandIwereboundtogether.Asboysdreamofgrowingintomen,andmendreamoftheboystheyoncewere,weeaeasureoftheotherhalf.HeremindedmeofthatnightmarelongagowhenIwastaken,andallatoncemylong-heldfearsandangerbrokethroughthesurface.Thelanternringbitintomyfingers,andmylefteyetwitchedwithtension.Theboyreadmyfadflinched.Hewasafraidofme,andforthefirsttimeIregrettedwhatIhadtakenfromhimandrealizedthat,infeelingsorryforhim,Igrievedformyownstolenlife.Fustav.FortherealHenryDay.Hisunknowablelife.ForallIcouldhavewithTessandwithEdward.MydreamofmusidwhowasIinthisequationbuttheproduyowndivision?Whataterriblethingtohavehappeosuchaboy.

  "Imsorry,"Isaid,andhevanished.YearsofangerdissipatedasIstaredatthespacewhereheusedtobe.Hewasgointhatbriefmomentwe’dfaeanother,mypasthadunspooleddeepinsidemymind,andIgo.Akindofeuphoriaracedthroughmyblood,andItookadeepbreathamyselfagain.

  "Wait,"Icalledouttohim,andwithoutthinkingIturnedandslidfeetfirstthroughtheopening,andlahedust.Thespacebelowthelibrarywassmallerthananticipated,andIbumpedmyheadontheceiliood.Theirgrottowasbutamurkyshadow,soIreachedupforthelaobettersee.Hunchedover,Isearchedwiththefirelightfortheboy,hopinghemightanswerafewquestions.Iwahingmorethantotalktohim,tiveandbefiven."Imnotgoingtohurtyou,"Icriedoutinthedarkness.Wrestliherope,Ilaiditandthecarpetkheground.Therustylanterncreakedinmyhandasthelightswepttheroom.

  Hecrouchedintheer,yappingatmelikeatrappedfox.Hisfacewasmyownfear.HetrembledasIapproached,eyesdarting,seargforanescape.dlelightillumihewalls,andallaroundhimonthegroundlaystacksofpaperandbooks.Athisfeet,tiedinastrandoftwihicksheafofhandwritteomypurloinedsymusichadsurvived.

  "tyouuandme?"Iheldoutmyhandtohim."Iwanttotalktoyou."

  Theboykepteyeingtheoppositeerasifsomeoneorsomethingwerewaitingthere,aurolook,herushedpastme,knogintothelampasheraedwiresnapped,sendingthelampflying,shatteringtheglassoonewall.TheblasandpapersigondIsnatchedmymusitheflames,beatingitagainstmylegtoextinguishthewispsoffirealongthemargins.Ibackedmywaytotheoverheadentrance.Asiffixedtothespot,hestoodgazingupinamazement,andjustbeforeclimbingoutofthehole,Icalledforhimafinaltime:"Henry—"

  Hiseyeswentwide,seargtheceilingasifdiscanewworld.Heturomeandsmiled,thensaidsomethingthatcouldnotbeuood.BythetimeIgotupstairs,afogofsmokerosethroughtheholebelow.Itfollowedmethroughthebrokenwindowjustastheflamesbegantolickthestacksofbooks.

  Afterthefire,Tesssavedme.DistraughtoverthedamageIhaddone,Imopedaboutthehousefordays.Thedestruofthechildreionwasnotmyfault,althoughIdeeplyregrettedthelossofallthebooks.Thechildrenwillneedoriesandfairytalestoseethemthroughtheirnightmaresanddaydreams,totransfiguretheirsorrowsandfearsatnotbeingabletoremainchildrenforever.

  TessandEdwardarrivedhomefromhercousinsjustasthepolicewereleaving.ItseemsIwasregardedasapersonofsuspi,forthelibrarianshadreportedmyspateoffrequentvisitsand"erraticbehavior."Thefiremenhaddiscoveredthelanternintheashes,buttherewasnowaytolinkbaewhathadoncebeenmyfathers.Tessacceptedmyfeebleexplanations,ahepolicecamearoundagaioldthemalittlewhitelie,sayingthatokehephohenightofthefireandsherememberedquiteclearlyhavingwokenmefromadeepsleep.Withoutanyproof,thematterfaded.Thearsoigation,asfarasIknow,provedinclusive,andtheblazepassedintolocallore,asifthebooksthemselveshadsuddenlyburstintoflames.

  HavingTessandEdwardbaethosefewweeksbeforeschoolstartedwasbothreassuringandunnerving.Theirmerepresehehousecalmedmyfragilepsycheafterthefire,butthereweretimeswhenIcouldbarelylookTessintheeye.Burdehguiltoverherplicity,Isearchedforsomewaytotellherthetruth,andperhapssheguessedthereasonsfrowingay.

  "Ifeelresponsible,inpart,"Tesstoldmeoverdinner."Andhelpless.Asifweshoulddosomethingaboutrebuilding."Overourlambchops,sheoutlinedaplantoraisemoneyforthelibrary.ThedetailsarrivedinsuchwavesthatIkesshadbeenplatiersihedayofherreturn."Wellstartabookdrive,too,andyoumakeyourcertabeforthechildren."

  Stunnedandrelieved,Icouldraisenoobje,aheweeks,theburstsofactivityoverwhelmedmysenseofdeandprivacy.Peopleboxeduptheirfairytalesandnurseryrhymes,andswarmedthroughthehouseatallhourswithcartonsofbooks,stagthemiudioandgarage.Whathadbeeagebecameabeehiveforthewell-iiohephstantlywithofferstohelp.Ontopofthehubbuboverthebooks,planningforthecertinterruptedourpeaartistcamebytoshowposterdesignsforthecert.Advaicketsweresoldfromourlivingroom.OnaSaturdaym,LewisLoveandhisteenagedson,Oscar,showedupickuptrudweloadedtheaninthebacktoinstallitinthechurch.Rehearsalswerescheduledforthreenightsaweek,audentsandthemusisstructeditmeasurebymeasure.Thegiddypadhumoflifeleftmetooexhaustedtosidermyflictedemotions.SweptupiionTesshadcreated,Icouldonlytrulyfunbytratingonthemusicasthedatefortheperformancedrewnear.

  Fromthewings,IwatchedthecrowdfileintothechurchforthebepremiereofTheStolenChildonthatnightiober.SinceIerfonthean,IhadpassedtheductorsbatontoOscarLove,andouroldCoverboysdrummerJimmyCummingswasontimpani.OscarhadreuxedofortheoccasionandJimmyhadcuthishair,andweseemedmuchtoorespectableversionsofourformerselves.AfewofmyfellowteachersfromTwainsattogetherinthebackrows,andevehelastremainingnunsfrradeschooldaysattended.Ebullientasever,mysistersshowedupinformalearlsattheircollars,andtheyflankedmymotherandCharlie,whowimeasiftoimpartadoseofhisabundantfidence.IwasmostsurprisedtoseeEileenBlakeescortedbyhersonBrian,whowasintownforavisit.Hegavemeamomentaryfrightwhentheyarrived,butthemoreIstudiedhim,thelesshecouldbeparedrationallywithEdward.Mysonafterall,andthankgoodness,hetakesafterhismotherineveryrespectbutappearahhishairtamed,anddressedupinhisfirstsuitandtie,Edwardlookedlikeanotherboyaltogether,aheforeshadowingofthemanmysonwillbeeoneday,Ifeltbothprideaoverthebrevityofchildhood.Tesscouldnotstopgrinningthatcrookedsmileofhers,andrightfullyso,forthesymphonyIhadpromisedtowritelongagowasnearlyhers.

  Toletinsomefreshaironthecrispautumnnight,thepriestshadcrackedthewindows,andalightbreezecrossedthealtarandtheheanhadbeenpositioheapsebecauseoftheacoustidmybackwastotheaudieherestofthesmallorchestraaswetookourpositions;fromtheerofmyeye,IcouldseeonlyOscarashetappedandtehebaton.

  Fromtheveryfirstnotes,Iwasdetermiellthestoryofhowthechildisstolenandreplacedbysomeoneelse,ahthechildandthegelingpersist.Inplaceoftheusualdistandseparationfromtheaudiencecameasenseofethroughperformaheywerestilled,hushed,expet,andIcouldfeeltwohundredpairsofeyeswatg.ItratedtothepointwhereIcouldletgoandplayforthemratherthansatisfymyself.Theovertureteasedoutthesymphonysfourmovements:awareness,pursuit,lamentation,andredemption,andatthemomentwhenIliftedmyhandsfromthekeysaringstookupthepizzicatotoindicatethearrivalofthegelings,Ifelthispresenearby.TheboyIcouldn松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读

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