Wheel Love

“So, how was your weekend? Earth to Ashley! Come in!”

Steph had finally relented in her blow by blow account of her weekend with Jared and I had to admit I was glad that her incessant chatter had paused. I was angry at her over what she had told him though, and I was reluctant to start a conversation with her when my temper wasn’t entirely in check.

I stalked off in the opposite direction to where she was standing. I knew she would be hurt by my behavior, but I would rather be away from her than start a fight.

Walking along the main pathway through the school I vaguely realized that I was heading towards the library.
It made me laugh at my own little habit, for when we were younger Steph and I would each head to the library to avoid one another when we fought, only to find that we were both in the same place and we ended up resolving our squabbles right then and there.
I thought it funny that my mentality hadn’t changed from when I was thirteen.
Shaking my head I diverted from the obvious course and decided to take a little detour through the Arts block.

Now, I don’t have any talent for Art or Drama which is inconvenient as I do enjoy both subjects, but I am a fairly good piano player, which gave me right to visit the music class early in the morning.

My music teacher, Miss Havelock was a lovely woman in her late thirties. We all knew that she was single, but she harbored a secret love for the P.E. teacher, Mr Dowell. I had accidentally noticed her looking longingly at him as he walked past her classroom one day. I had never said anything about it to anyone, but she knew that I was aware of her little secret.

I encouraged her on at least a weekly basis to talk to him outside the staffroom but she always obstinately refused on principle. She thought it would be unwise to start a relationship within the workplace, but I think that she was simply too nervous. She is a rather quiet lady.

But that’s getting off the subject; I was able to enter the classroom at my own free will as Miss Havelock granted me permission to use the piano before and after school.

Miss Havelock knew I didn’t have a piano at home, and she believed that I could be a decent piano player so much that she gave me my own key to the music class. It was of course, a secret from her co-workers and I respected the position she was in by giving me that key by keeping it a secret myself.

Stealing quietly into the classroom I looked at the piano. It was funny, but I always likened it to an old friend that I hadn’t seen in an age whenever I saw it. It was nothing fancy, just a worn old parlor style piano, but I think its character made me like it even more.

Sitting down I brushed my fingers slowly over the keys, I had a little habit whenever I sat down to a piano, I would always quietly ask permission to play from the keys. Ridiculous I know, but if I didn’t ask, it simply didn’t feel right to me.

“May I play you?” I whispered quietly, still dancing my fingers over the keys.

Perhaps it was my imagination, but the ebony and ivory felt warmer at my touch. I took it as permission granted and started to play a simple melody with my right hand.

The melody began to become more intricate as I weaved the music from my heart into my fingers and the piano.
Bringing in the right hand I added some chords to act as the foundation to the palace of the melody.
As I played, I became steadily entranced by the music. I played for what felt like an eternity, even though it may have been only three or four minutes and when the music was no longer left in me I stopped.

Breathing heavily I felt substantially lighter. It was like all my pent up emotions had flowed through my hands into the piano and it, in turn, had dissolved the pain with a mixture of melody and harmony.

I murmured a quiet “Thank you” and closed the lid on the keys gently. Retrieving my bag I stood up and walked out of the classroom, throwing a quick “I’ll be back later,” to my friend the piano.

*

“Hey Reggie,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. He was sitting in his chair looking up at the ceiling, a faint line of drool running down his chin.

“How was your day buddy?” I knew I was going to get no reply but I felt better for talking to him anyway. I grabbed myself a cold drink out of the fridge and sat down next to him at the dinner table.

“I got to play in the music room this morning, it was really cool. Oh and Miss Neal wasn’t at school today so I got a sub teacher in Math which just made my day. It was kinda lucky because I didn’t end up finishing my homework last night. I’m not talking to Steph by the way. I know you don’t like her very much,”
At this point Reggie was nodding his head furiously in what I thought was agreement,
“I don’t even know if I like her very much actually. She’s changed. We used to be really close, but I guess puberty got to her.”

Reggie gave his choked up laugh at that. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing because he found what I said amusing, or if he was just laughing because of something in his own mind. At any rate the effect it had on me was good, so I continued chatting to him as I prepared dinner.

Mom came downstairs just as I started boiling the linguini pasta to go with the hand-made meatballs that were simmering in a pan with a tomato and mushroom concoction. She had bleary eyes and rumpled hair that indicated she had been asleep.

“Hey Mom, um, I’m making dinner tonight. That okay?”

She looked at me as if I was possessed as she glanced, in turn, at me to the pan and then to the content and quiet Reggie.

“I…uh…Yeah that’s, um, fine. I’m gonna have a shower.”

With that she turned and walked back upstairs, shaking her head like a dog would to get water out of their ears.

“I think she’s going mad Reg,” I said quietly and with that Reggie commenced his choked laughter once more.