Ivory Keys
Ivory Keys
I wrote this over a year ago, and thought it deserved its place here. I still think it's one of my best yet.
For Sam.
-
Hello, beautiful.
You whisper the two words quietly, your fingers tracing along the familiar white blocks. You pause for a moment, then let one of your fingers fall slightly, pressing down gently on one of the thick, white rectangles. Instantly, a soft note fills the air with music. And as you look down at the instrument before you, you think of him.
You remember sitting at a piano just like this one as a small child. He was sitting there beside you, then, laughing joyfully; the simple sound was music to your ears. You sit down now, your fingers still brushing against the smooth object that brings back so many memories. The bench on which you sit is hard and cold, like nobody has sat in this spot for a while.
You remember how it felt to have him by your side, laughing and smiling as his fingers darted and danced on the piano’s surface. You remember telling him, I want to play just like you can. And he laughed again, taking your tiny hands and guiding your fingers to the ivory keys.
You remember the patience he used to have, watching as you grew frustrated with the piano. I can’t do it right, you complained to him. He proceeded to show you the names of the notes and the keys and you watched with rapt attention.
You start with ‘C’, Ariel…You say, repeating the words he spoke to you so many years ago. You press down on the appropriate key, remembering how he had done the exact same thing so long ago. You hit the next note, then the next, speaking it’s name aloud as you play. D, E, F, G, A, B…
You can hear his voice matching your own. Nothing but the empty sounds of your memories fill your mind, but it sounds like he’s there with you, like you’re six years old again. You continue with your scales, your fingers tracing patterns on the piano keys. You smile half-heartedly; you can still hear the distant, desolate echo of his voice continuing to name the notes you play.
You stop playing for a moment, deliberating, your hands frozen on the piano. Then your fingers shift higher on the scale and you begin to play again. The notes that fill the air now, however are not set up in a simple scale. This is the song you wrote together, the song that had been forgotten for much too long.
Even after all this time, the movements seem like routine. The swift melody you now play had been ground into your mind a song that you couldn’t forget in a million years. You play with as much emotion as you can muster, tears filling your eyes slightly as you remember the first time you played together.
And then you stop abruptly, though in your mind the music continues. It hasn’t ended, not quite yet. This is the part that he is supposed to be playing. The tears fall once more as you remember the concentrated look he had when he placed his fingers to the keys. Though the room is physically silent, you alone can hear the notes the song should have.
“Ariel, that was simply beautiful.” The voice makes you jump, shattering the beautiful music. The illusion was gone and there was silence in, not only the room, but also now your mind. You stand up, almost knocking down the bench, and glance at the woman before you.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Thurston.” You glance around the music room before returning your glance to the teacher. “I know that the school is already closed. I just saw the piano, and I had to play…” You gesture towards the instrument you just left, wishing that you could return to the keys. The passion running through your veins now was something that you haven’t felt in a very long time. You need to play again.
“Ariel, don’t apologize. Was the song finished?” You’re surprised by your music teacher’s question, but you answer anyways.
“No, Ms. Thurston.” You pause slightly before adding, “would you like me to finish it for you?” The woman nods in encouragement and you return to your instrument. The illusion would not return to you with someone watching, but the exhilaration was still there, as was the excitement. And, though you know he cannot hear you, you whisper softly to him as your fingers play the song he should be helping you with.
I miss you, Daddy.
For Sam.
-
Hello, beautiful.
You whisper the two words quietly, your fingers tracing along the familiar white blocks. You pause for a moment, then let one of your fingers fall slightly, pressing down gently on one of the thick, white rectangles. Instantly, a soft note fills the air with music. And as you look down at the instrument before you, you think of him.
You remember sitting at a piano just like this one as a small child. He was sitting there beside you, then, laughing joyfully; the simple sound was music to your ears. You sit down now, your fingers still brushing against the smooth object that brings back so many memories. The bench on which you sit is hard and cold, like nobody has sat in this spot for a while.
You remember how it felt to have him by your side, laughing and smiling as his fingers darted and danced on the piano’s surface. You remember telling him, I want to play just like you can. And he laughed again, taking your tiny hands and guiding your fingers to the ivory keys.
You remember the patience he used to have, watching as you grew frustrated with the piano. I can’t do it right, you complained to him. He proceeded to show you the names of the notes and the keys and you watched with rapt attention.
You start with ‘C’, Ariel…You say, repeating the words he spoke to you so many years ago. You press down on the appropriate key, remembering how he had done the exact same thing so long ago. You hit the next note, then the next, speaking it’s name aloud as you play. D, E, F, G, A, B…
You can hear his voice matching your own. Nothing but the empty sounds of your memories fill your mind, but it sounds like he’s there with you, like you’re six years old again. You continue with your scales, your fingers tracing patterns on the piano keys. You smile half-heartedly; you can still hear the distant, desolate echo of his voice continuing to name the notes you play.
You stop playing for a moment, deliberating, your hands frozen on the piano. Then your fingers shift higher on the scale and you begin to play again. The notes that fill the air now, however are not set up in a simple scale. This is the song you wrote together, the song that had been forgotten for much too long.
Even after all this time, the movements seem like routine. The swift melody you now play had been ground into your mind a song that you couldn’t forget in a million years. You play with as much emotion as you can muster, tears filling your eyes slightly as you remember the first time you played together.
And then you stop abruptly, though in your mind the music continues. It hasn’t ended, not quite yet. This is the part that he is supposed to be playing. The tears fall once more as you remember the concentrated look he had when he placed his fingers to the keys. Though the room is physically silent, you alone can hear the notes the song should have.
“Ariel, that was simply beautiful.” The voice makes you jump, shattering the beautiful music. The illusion was gone and there was silence in, not only the room, but also now your mind. You stand up, almost knocking down the bench, and glance at the woman before you.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Thurston.” You glance around the music room before returning your glance to the teacher. “I know that the school is already closed. I just saw the piano, and I had to play…” You gesture towards the instrument you just left, wishing that you could return to the keys. The passion running through your veins now was something that you haven’t felt in a very long time. You need to play again.
“Ariel, don’t apologize. Was the song finished?” You’re surprised by your music teacher’s question, but you answer anyways.
“No, Ms. Thurston.” You pause slightly before adding, “would you like me to finish it for you?” The woman nods in encouragement and you return to your instrument. The illusion would not return to you with someone watching, but the exhilaration was still there, as was the excitement. And, though you know he cannot hear you, you whisper softly to him as your fingers play the song he should be helping you with.
I miss you, Daddy.