Anna To The Infinite Power (13 page)

“Overdone? Cooked too much?” Dad had asked innocently.

“You know what I mean, Graham. Excessive. Just a little too much of everything, including perfume.” Of course, both Dad and Rowan had defended Michaela. Now as Anna stared at her, she thought a leotard and long dangling earrings became her. Then it occurred to Anna that the earrings were the same ones that had once triggered her migraine. Today they didn’t seem to bother her. In fact, she hadn’t had a headache in a long, long time. Don’t think about it, she told herself. Don’t invite trouble.

“Something wrong, Anna?” Michaela asked.

“No,” Anna said quickly. For the first time she felt a desire to confide in Michaela. That was out of the question, though. Which made Anna all the more thankful for Rowan. If she had to keep all her worries and fears to herself, she’d go crazy. Anna said, “You know, at first I thought you were so mean, making me play all those exercises and all. Then I got to thinking about it the other day, and I decided this must be more boring for you than for me. I wondered why you would do it. Dad said you wouldn’t even take pay.”

“All the payment I want is to see you improve.”

“I think I am improving.”

“You know,” Michaela said with a smile, “I believe you are, too. In fact, while I still want you to continue with the exercises, I think you’re now ready for the enjoyable part -- full compositions.”

Anna couldn’t believe it. “Really?”

“Really.” Michaela quickly went through the pile of sheet music that always sat on top of the spinet, selected a Beethoven sonata, opened it, and said, “Ah, here we are, the third movement. Next week I expect you to be able to play this with your eyes closed.”

At that point, the door buzzer sounded. Anna said, “That must be Rowan. He said he’d walk home with me.”

“Then that’s it for today.”

Michaela went to the door and opened it to Rowan. “Today I gave Anna permission to start playing full pieces,” she said after greeting him. “You might try helping her with the one I’ve given her. When she learns it, you could even try a duet.”

“Duet?” he said. Anna thought he looked startled. “I never thought of anything like that, but if you think it will help --”

“I do,” Michaela said firmly.

When Anna joined Rowan outside, and they started across the park toward home, she said, “You don’t want to.”

“Want to what?”

“Play duets with me -- help me.”

“Sure I do. In fact, I was just now thinking that maybe we-could try something this afternoon.” Then he changed the subject. “Did you have any trouble this morning?”

Anna had already told him that she’d taken his advice and had made an appointment with her school adviser. “I guess you couldn’t really call it trouble.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I saw my adviser. She agreed with me that I’m not doing well enough to continue with the program I’m in now. She said it would probably be wise to make some changes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“She had my file in front of her when I went in. She’s new on the job this year, so I don’t think she’d ever seen it before. I could see that she looked puzzled. She kept staring at something on the paper. Finally she asked me who Dr. Henry Jelliff was.”

“Dr. Henry Jelliff?”

“Yes. I told her I didn’t know. She said, ‘He’s not your guardian?’ I said, ‘No.’ Then she asked me if I had any idea why he was to be notified of any change in my curriculum. Of course, I told her, no, but I knew very well he had to be someone involved in the experiment.”

“I wonder if Mom knows who he is.”

“Oh, don’t say anything to her, Rowan. I told her I wouldn’t do anything about school.”

“But she’ll have to know sooner or later.”

“Maybe not. I was kind of reading my file upside- down. I could make out Jelliff’s name. There was another note, too -- See Headmaster. I figured then that there was no way that they wouldn’t hear about what I was doing, so I told her I’d better think things over, that maybe I wouldn’t make any changes.”

“What did she say?”

“She said my grades were no longer academy level, so she had to advise a change of program, maybe even a change of schools. I think I talked her out of doing anything right away, though. I said I’d really like to give it another try.”

“What good will that do?”

“Maybe if I try hard, I can get my grades back up.”

“What’s the point? You keep saying you don’t want to be a physicist.”

“But maybe I do want to be one. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve just run into a block. I bet if I just give it time, everything will come back to me.” Deep inside her, though, Anna knew that no matter what she said, what she was really trying to do was avoid a confrontation with them.

Anna spent the afternoon trying to master a portion of the music Michaela had given her. Rowan selected the part and said she was to practice it until she could play it without looking at the notes. The task should have been easy because the sonata was one she had played long ago, but she seemed to demand more of herself now. Although it was a relief to play something other than exercises, she had a feeling she wasn’t even getting close to what Michaela would expect.

At one point Rowan came into the room and she broke off, saying, “It’s not very good, is it?”

“You just don’t seem to be getting the right feeling.” He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe I can help. I’ll be right back.” He left the room and returned in moments with his violin. He tuned the instrument, then glanced at the music. “I’m going to play the same passage. Close your eyes and listen.”

Anna did as he said. The section was an especially fast one and he played it skillfully. When he finished, he said, “What did you see?”

Anna opened her eyes. “I didn’t see anything. I had my eyes closed.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant, what did you see in your mind.”

“Nothing. What was I supposed to see?”

Instead of answering her question, he said, “I saw horses -- wild, beautiful animals, free spirits, racing in the wind. Now close your eyes again and this time, as I play, try to form your own picture.” Anna, feeling tense, closed her eyes to once again listen to the same music. She had the feeling that Rowan was demanding something from her which, to him, was very important. Eager to please him, she took in the quick tempo and tried to form a picture in her head--anything. Even horses. Try to visualize horses, she told herself, running, leaping horses. Rowan’s horses. No, nothing would come.

When Rowan stopped playing he said, “Well?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Unless you call lines and dots and squiggles something. I might as well say it before you do. If this is what it takes to be a decent musician, then I’m hopeless.” She expected him to be angry with her.

Instead, he said patiently, “Look, Anna, you’re taking this too seriously. It’s only a sort of game.”

“It is?”

“Of course.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“I thought you realized. You don’t get bad marks if you fail or good marks if you succeed.”

“All right. Let’s try again.” As he began the music she closed her eyes. He was trying to help her relax, she knew, and strangely enough the ploy was successful. She felt calmer now, not because he had said this was only a game, but because he had been patient with her when she’d expected anger. Now she concentrated on the sound. Lively. Animated. Gradually a picture unfolded in her head. “I see children -- a playground -- laughing, running children -- children holding hands, playing circle games, others on slides, on seesaws.” When the music died, she said, “That was all I could see.”

“That was enough,” Rowan said, “but what did you feel?”

“Feel?” Anna blinked and opened her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes again.” Once more Anna obeyed him as he began to play, very softly this time. “Can you still picture children?”

“Yes. I could even describe what they’re wearing.”

“Never mind what they’re wearing. What are they feeling?”

In her head, Anna could see them romping, hear them laughing. “They’re having fun.”

“How do they feel?”

“Happy.” The music vibrated through her with a playful lilt that made her feel like laughing, too. “Joy -- they feel joyful.”

When the sound faded away, Rowan asked, “How did you know that?”

Anna stared at him now, feeling bewildered. “I don’t know -- maybe it was just obvious that laughing children would be happy.” She thought about it. “No, it was more. It was in the music. I could hear the happiness, feel the joy.”

“Feel?”

“Yes. In the music. I really could.” She thought Rowan looked pleased.

“This is not only a game,” he said, “it’s an exercise. If you practice it enough I’ll bet anything your playing will improve. Try it on the piano now -- the same passage I played. Try to visualize those children at the same time and let’s see what you get.” Feeling doubtful, Anna ran her fingers over the keys, striking them in the same old mechanical way.

“The children, the children! Think of the children!” he shouted.

The children . . . Anna tried to picture them but found it harder now that she was playing as well as watching the notes. But you don’t have to look at the notes, she told herself. You know them perfectly well. Close your eyes. Let the picture form. Children -- laughing, running, frolicking children. It was coming. Yes, it was coming. Children. They were skipping through the music now. Happy. Joyful.

When she finished, Rowan said, “That was better. I tell you what, Anna. We’ll take a half hour every afternoon and do the same thing with the rest of this movement. By the time you go back to Michaela’s, you’ll really surprise her.”

Anna was overwhelmed. He had never before offered to do anything like that for her. “But how can you spare the time from your own practice?”

“A half hour won’t matter that much. I’ll pretend I’m playing Pygmalion. By the end of the week you will be a completely transformed Galatea. Michaela will certainly be pleased.”

Anna suddenly wondered if he was doing this to help her or to please Michaela. Or did it make any difference?

The following Saturday Rowan again stopped at Michaela’s to walk with Anna. Although he could hardly contain himself he waited until they were well away from the apartment before he asked, “Well, how did it go?”

Anna giggled. “Oh, I just wish you could have been there. Michaela was really surprised. I breezed through the whole thing, and I was wonderful.”

“Stop bragging.”

“I’m not bragging. That’s what she said. She said, ‘Anna, that was wonderful.’ Of course she guessed that you’ve been helping me.”

Rowan didn’t mind that at all. He had hoped to impress her. When you came right down to it, he had accomplished something with Anna that she hadn’t -- practically the impossible. He had a right to feel proud. In fact, he was feeling more than a little like God and enjoying the feeling. God may have made the heavens and the earth in six days, but Rowan had taken only seven to get a little sensitivity into Anna’s playing, surely the more formidable task of the two.

Desert winds had made the winter day unusually hot and dry. As they let themselves into their apartment, Rowan felt very expansive. “You know what I’d like to do this afternoon?”

“What?” Anna asked.

“Go to the beach.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He knew what she meant. The beaches were overrun with gangs of hoodlums these days. You took your life in your hands to even venture near one. “I didn’t mean the regular beaches. I meant a place I know of that almost no one else goes to. One of the guys at the conservatory took me out there one day.”

“The water would be too cold for swimming this time of year.”

“We don’t have to go swimming. Instead of having lunch here, we could fix something to eat and have a picnic there.”

“We?”

She looked astounded, he thought. Maybe she didn’t like the idea of going someplace with him. “Why not
we
?”

“Don’t you have to practice?”

“I should, but, to tell you the truth, I feel all practiced out. Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for that before the next play-off recital. How about you? Is there anything you have to do this afternoon?”

“Well, I -- well, no -- not really.”

“What’s the matter, then? Don’t you want to go with me?”

“It isn’t that. I’m just surprised. I mean, you’ve never asked me to go anyplace with you before.”

That was almost embarrassingly true. “Well, I’m asking you now.”

“Is it because you think I need cheering up? Or because I look pale? Everybody keeps asking me if I’m sick. Or maybe you just feel sorry for me.”

“For God’s sake, Anna!” Now he was annoyed with her. The truth was it was because of all of those things, but he would never have admitted it to her. He felt irritated that she had sensed it. “Look, I said I wanted to go to the beach. I asked you if you wanted to go with me. Now why do you have to turn that into a court case? All you have to do is say yes or no.” If she didn’t want to go. why couldn’t she come right out and say so?

“Yes,” Anna said.

“If you don’t want to go, why can’t you just come right out and say -- ”

“I said yes.”

He stared at her dumbly. “You said yes?”

“Yes.”

In a moment they both began to laugh and an awkward tension dissolved into easy camaraderie. Rowan said, “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Let’s get some food together.”

Both Sarah and Graham Hart were still at work, so Rowan and Anna had the house to themselves. They changed into sport clothes, then packed Anna’s carryall with sandwiches made from leftover chicken. Rowan went up to the roof to check the big pots where their citrus trees were planted. He came back with several ripe oranges to add to the bounty. At Anna’s insistence, Rowan checked with INAFT.

“All clear,” he told her. They left a note, saying they would be home by dinner time, and were off.

They took the people-mover to an electrobus that traveled directly to and up the shore. Unlike Anna, Rowan was used to finding his way around outside the complex. He had a good memory for places. Although he’d visited this spot only once before, he recognized the stop where they were to get off. On foot, he took the carryall and they set out.