The Prodigy

by Georgiann Baldino

A Novel with Music Effects

Published on CD

Text Excerpt from Chapter 16

ISBN 0-9701368-4-6

The nagging calliope, playing in Aubrey’s head, ground to a halt the day they left for New York. Mr. Smithson’s money had opened the doors to the Pokorff Conservatory. Heavenly music waited inside. At ten o’clock tomorrow morning Aubrey had an appointment with Julian Dahl, the world’s best known teacher of piano technique and repertoire.

Mother was in a strange mood. She checked them into their hotel, but then took the boys out again. No piano practice today. "Let’s soak up the glories of the Metropolitan Museum."

Wil smiled. No piano practice.

Aubrey barely saw the paintings. This time, he wanted to stay at the keyboard, going over and over the pieces he might have to play

Maestro Dahl hauled himself out of his chair. The man’s face was ashen and puffy, yet when he extended his hand in introduction, his eyes sparkled. His

ponderous body moved slowly but his mind was quick. Aubrey took an instant liking to him. His dancing eyes reminded Aubrey of Fattora. When Dahl clasped his hands around Aubrey’s, he knew he had come to the right place. The instructor’s firm grasp grew out of conviction. Accuracy and form and clarity seeped from his large, visible pores. Dahl didn’t make demands; he didn’t have to.

When he led Aubrey toward the keyboard, the room shook. He had the shape and almost the size of a concert grand. He balanced on spindle legs capped with elephantine ankles necessary to support the load of his bulk. When he settled onto a round stool, it disappeared.

He told Aubrey, "Play any piece
you wish."

Aubrey understood. The song didn’t matter—perfection did. Playing for all the other teachers now seem like a child’s game. Aubrey chose the Chopin that had gotten him here. His heart swelled with the sonata.

Several bars in, Maestro Dahl clapped his hands. "Stop. In your mind, put yourself in the next room." A broad hand waved Aubrey off on an imaginary trip next door. "Listen to yourself from there. Do you sound like Chopin?"

Aubrey reddened with embarrassment.

"Now. Please continue."

As Aubrey played the closing strains, he stole a peak at his instructor. Dahl’s bloated face twisted, in agony or joy, Aubrey couldn’t tell which. Dahl teetered from side to side on his perch. At the end he jumped to his feet, barreling down on mother. "You must leave him to me."

As though fearing the stampede, she shrank back.

Dahl captured and pumped her hand. "Five years from now we’ll have more than a prodigy. We’ll have the raw material of genius."

It would’ve been better if he trampled her. She threw up his words. "Five years!"

"He must, of course, stop playing
in public."

"Impossible."

"He cannot continue a busy schedule."

"We have commitments, accepted advances."

"Such philistinism will ruin him. You must find a way to break these contracts."

Wil was already moving to the door.

Mother rose and pulled Aubrey toward his brother.

Aubrey dragged his feet but then gave up to the unrelenting pull. Outside, he stole a look over his shoulder.

As they disappeared down the hall, agony returned to Dahl’s face. He tugged at his earlobe—to remind Aubrey to detach himself from his playing and listen.

Reviewed in The Courier the author’s writing is: "fluid and almost effortless to read."

Order from the publisher:
Hornkohl Communications
www.hornkohl.com/mainstream.html

Email: hornkohl@triton.net

Also available at www.amazon.com

Georgiann Baldino lives with her husband near Chicago, Illinois.
You can contact her at:
obtener@aol.com