MAEVE [Arc 1]

Chapter 3: Lesson

Perspective: Maeve

Ethan is sitting across the living room table holding a small green chalkboard. He points a finger at the sentence written along the chalky powdered surface.

Ethan:
"That cow sure is happy."

He swings his finger back over to me, giving an open expression as to indicate for me to answer the upcoming question.

Ethan:
"Now tell me, which one is the adjective?"

I feel my head turn as I try my hardest not to screw up the question. I know the adjective comes after the noun... or is it the verb? Wait, isn't it both? Uhh... okay, don't panic; use your deduction skills.

Maeve:
"Adjective is...happy, right?"

I watch Ethan clap in my moment of triumph, like he just witnessed someone win the grand prize at a festival. I guess I'm the winner, but I don't really feel like a winner. Well, I got it right, so that's all that matters.

Ethan:
"Good job! Now, where can a noun take place?"

Finally, something I know. I lead with my answer confidently only to hesitate midway through.

Maeve:
"After an adjective!... and..."

Oh crap, what's the English word for "before" again? How did I forget this? ...Ah, whatever. I'll just answer it in French.

Maeve:
"Avant?"
[Before?]

Ethan shakes his head at me with a sigh of disapproval.

Ethan:
"Ah ah ah, no answers in French. English, Maeve, English."

I sag my shoulders realizing I had forgotten the rule. I was trying my best, but—

Maeve:
"It's— hard..."

Even after several months of practice, it's still incredibly difficult. I wouldn't have expected learning English to be so frustrating. Everything is backwards and needlessly complicated. Like, how too, two, and to are all pronounced the same yet mean different things. It's driving me insane...

Ethan:
"Well, nothing comes easy, you've come really far in the past few months, which is really impressive, but you still need to work on your pronunciation. I think that's enough for today. You want a drink? I had Vincent get your favorite at the market today."

I feel my eyes widen from the thought. Ever since Vincent started picking up that drink, I've been hooked. It's sweet yet smooth and refreshing. I can't remember what it's called, but I know it's fairly expensive. Regardless, I Immediately burst out in excitement.

Maeve:
"Yes, please!"

Ethan stands up and laughs at me, gesturing his hand towards my now unbraced leg.

Ethan:
"Alright, so how's your leg feeling? Are you doing better without the crutches?"

I nod my head.

Maeve:
"Yes, I'm doing a lot better."

Ethan:
"That's great to hear."

Great? More like a pain in my ass. Walking on my leg again has only been a heap of me falling flat on my face several times in the hour. I never would have expected that I would lose my ability to walk in a straight line. It's starting to come back to me, but the sensation of the brace holding my leg in place still lingers on. It's discomfiting. At least I don't have to practice while carrying a crutch around anymore; that was a bit demoralizing. Nevertheless, now that I'm fully recovered, I can leave whenever I want, but this is a pretty good opportunity for me to learn English. There's no reason for me to pass it up. I might as well stick around until I have the more advanced stuff down.

I can hear Ethan behind me in the kitchen washing out a glass while I remain on the living room couch. I never really thought about it until now, but the design of this house is weird. The kitchen and living space are in the same room, including the dining table. It was as if the designers of the house decided that walls were overrated and outdated and needed to be brought to extinction. I look over to the door to Ethan's room; it has a wall. I guess that makes sense. You wouldn't want people outside to see you butt-naked from the kitchen window. I suppose that wouldn't be very...what would Ethan call it...ethical?

My attention is brought to the instrument sitting on the fireplace in front of me. I've never seen anything like it. It's been sitting next to the fireplace ever since I got here, but I've never seen Ethan pick it up or play it. I spin back around to see Ethan filling my glass.

Maeve:
"Do you play?"

I shyly point towards the wooden instrument.

Ethan:
"Oh, the cello? Yeah, I used to play it all the time when patients would request it. I normally practice every afternoon, but I've hardly had the time since I've been busy learning French and teaching you English, but I haven't been too busy recently, so I've managed to find some time."

Maeve:
"May I see?"

Ethan:
"Yeah, sure. No harm in that."

Ethan walks over to me and hands me my drink. I take a sip and watch him lower himself onto the raised stone portion of the fireplace, grabbing and settling the instrument onto the floor in front of him. He pulls out a long stick with yellow tinted strands going from one end to the other.

Ethan:
"Are there any specific songs you would you like to hear? I may know a few."

I shrug my shoulders. The only songs I know are lullabies my mom used to sing to me. I wouldn't have a clue as to what to suggest.

Ethan:
"How about a song I wrote? It's called 'Remember me.' Would you like to hear it?"

I take a moment to nod. He nods back, preparing himself.

Ethan:
"I haven't had too much time to practice this, it has lyrics and I'm not much of a singer, so you'll just have to bear with it."

I listen closely as Ethan begins playing.
He didn't use the bow as I was expecting at first. He was striking his fingers across each of the strings in a fast fluid motion, yet it sounded slow and calming in a way. I'm surprised by how well I understand what he is singing. I am even more surprised that he can sing to begin with. His voice isn't incredible, but it is nice. It is very gentle and inviting, just like the cello, and the song...

Remember me
For what I'll be
And find the world
That I wished it to be
Remember me
And you will see
That I was not the one
That I seemed to believe
Remember me
Remember me
I was not a hero
But a believer in my dreams
Remember me
Remember me
My only wish
Is for you to be in harmony
I don't want the world to surround you
To swallow you and bury you alive

As he continued, I couldn't help but notice how peaceful he looked. He reminded me a lot of my mother, serious but with a gentle undertone. It honestly put a smile on my face. I wonder what it's like to play the cello. I mean, I can't imagine it to be too difficult compared to learning how to read and write a new language. Once he finishes, he looks up at me and extends both of his hands out with the bow.

Ethan:
"Tada! What did ya think? I cut it a bit short because there's something I have to do in just a minute, but I still hope you liked it."

I can't help myself. My curiosity is killing me. I muster up the strength to ask.

Maeve:
"M-may I try?"

Ethan flinches for a moment, obviously not expecting that response.

Ethan:
"Wha- you wanna try? Uh, alright, just be careful. Don't drop it. It's expensive."

I set my empty glass down onto the table and walk over to the instrument. Ethan settles the cello in front of me and takes a hold of my hands.

Ethan:
"Here, like this."

He takes my left and positions it on the slim neck of the instrument while taking my right, showing me how to hold a bow. I take hold of it with only my fingers and properly position it onto the cello. I watch him step away and turn to look at me. He immediately begins to laugh. Is it something I did? I'm doing exactly what he showed me. What is so funny?

Ethan:
"It may be a tad too big for you."

Now I understand. My left hand can hardly wrap around the strings and both of my arms feel heavy and stretched to their limit. I can't imagine how ridiculous I look right now. I would say I'm a little disappointed. Maybe I could try finding something else? I'll have to ask him if he can teach me though...

Ethan:
"Hmm, you wanna learn how to play an instrument?"

I stare at him blankly. Did he just read my mind?

Ethan:
"Y- You just gonna stare or..."

Maeve:
"I—yes, I'd like to learn a little."

Ethan:
"Alright! Hmm...well, the cello wouldn't be right for you. It's a little too big. I have that piano upstairs. I can teach you a little bit of that."

Maeve:
"Do you have something small?"

Ethan:
"If you want something small, I have a violin. I tried getting into it last year to write a new song with it, but I didn't really like the way it felt. Now, it just sits in my bedroom. It has no frets, just like the cello, so it would be a lot harder to learn than the piano. I don't really recommend it for someone like you who is new to music, but you're free to choose."

Once again, I turn my head at him in complete confusion, I only understood half the things he just said. What is a fret? What is a violin? Is he talking about a violon? [Violin] More importantly, why does he have so many instruments? He notices my confusion. Holding up a finger, he indicates for me to wait.

Ethan:
"Here, let me go get it, and I'll show you."

Ethan runs back out of his room with the violin in one hand and a bow in the other.

Ethan:
"Here, you can hold it."

Ah, so it is a violon. As I take hold of the handcrafted instrument, I see my reflection beam off the polished wooden surface. It looks almost brand new. There is not a scratch on it. Knowing how much work was likely put into this, and a good estimate of how much the object probably costs, I feel as if I'm holding someone's child. I look back up at Ethan not knowing exactly what I should be doing or where I should start.

Maeve:
"How do I play it?"

Ethan:
"Okay, I guess we're starting with the violin then. Well, first you have to understand where each key is..."

Maeve:
"What is a key?"

Ethan:
"It's a note, like middle C or D, E, B, and so on."

Maeve:
"Isn't that the alphabet?"

Ethan:
"Well, yes. But musicians use the first seven letters to communicate how to play different pieces of music."

I point to the smallest string on the violin.

Maeve:
"So, the first note is... A?"

Ethan:
"No, that's the open E string."

Maeve:
"The first letter of the alphabet is E?"