Mr. and Mrs. Hinkley of Hartford, Connecticut, were a wealthy and respectable American couple residing in a grand old villa. While Mr. Hinkley devoted most of his time to his office, amassing wealth, his wife, Elizabeth Hinkley, busied herself with organizing tea parties for her circle of friends, charitable auctions, golfing, and held the esteemed position of chairperson for the town's cultural foundation. She took great pride in showcasing their exemplary lifestyle to the world. Thus, it came as an immense shock when their only daughter, the alluring blonde, Carolyn, eloped at the tender age of eighteen with an Italian immigrant, leaving behind their opulent estate to embark on a modest life in an American Foursquare dwelling.
In the aftermath of Carolyn's departure, Elizabeth locked herself away in her bedroom for a whole month, cursing her misfortune. However, today, fifteen years after that ill-fated union, both mother and father had finally made peace with the situation – not least because Carolyn and the Italian had blessed them with four marvelous grandchildren.
Each summer, the family, now bearing the despicable surname "de Rossi," paid a visit to the grandparents, spending several enchanting weeks at the splendid estate in Hartford. It was a true wonderland for the children, as the three-story mansion offered boundless space for their games. They reveled in the care of a diligent housemaid, ensuring their rooms were tidied daily, and a skilled cook, ready to cater to their every whim. And when boredom struck them indoors, they'd frolic and explore the captivating garden, and on sunny days, laughter echoed through the air as they splashed joyfully in the refreshing pool.
One fine day, the nine-year-old Katie sat beneath a vibrant maple tree in her grandparents' garden, clutching a thick, weighty book she had stumbled upon in her grandfather's study.
"May I borrow this, please?" she had inquired that morning, and he had smiled fondly, granting her request with a nod. However, as she excitedly rushed to the garden with the massive tome, her grandmother intercepted her.
"What have you got there, my dear?"
"A book," Katie replied cheerfully.
"May I take a look?" her grandmother asked, amused.
Handing it over, Katie watched expectantly as her grandmother laughed. "Why, my dear, it's an Oscar Wilde book. This is far too sophisticated for a little girl!"
"But it says 'Fairy Tales' on the cover," Katie explained. "May I please read it?"
"Well, if you insist," her grandmother said with a shrug, still finding her granddaughter's peculiar request comical.
After a delightful lunch, Katie made herself comfortable under the maple tree, delving into the book's magical world of fairy tales. Meanwhile, her brother Johnny perched five meters away on the roof of the garden arbor, idly strumming his guitar. After ten minutes, he called out to her:
"Hey Katie, listen to this!"
He played a short melody he had just crafted, eagerly awaiting her judgment. But Katie was so engrossed in her enchanting tale of a merry dwarf dancing for a little princess that she didn't even look up.
"It should be higher at the end," she offered her input, her eyes never leaving the captivating words on the pages.
"Like this?" Johnny played the melody once more, this time concluding with a higher note.
"No, higher in a different way."
Determined to meet his sister's discerning standards, he tried again, and this time, Katie nodded in approval.
"And a bit faster in the middle," she mumbled, still absorbed in her reading, causing Johnny to quicken the tempo accordingly.
"Like this?" he inquired again, eager for her judgment.
But before Katie could respond, their two brothers, Joey and Charlie, burst out of the house. Armed with water guns, they were having a turbulent water fight, creating such a ruckus that it was challenging for Katie to maintain her focus on the fairy tales.
Upon seeing Katie sitting beneath the tree with her hefty book, Joey and Charlie couldn't resist teasing.
"Hey, bookworm! Haven't got any friends to play with?" Joey taunted.
"Why are you reading instead of joining the fun?" Charlie chimed in, playfully spraying Katie with his water gun.
"Stop it!" Katie commanded, concerned about her beloved book getting wet.
Meanwhile, John continued to strum his guitar calmly, sitting on the rooftop. He had modified the melody to perfection (faster in the middle and higher at the end) and just needed to find appropriate lyrics. Observing the playful scene unfolding in the garden, he began to sing:
My sister sits in the garden, oh what a sight,
Reading happily in her book with all her might.
But then come these pests, oh what a blow,
Those two little rascals, a sibling woe!
"Johnny!" Katie's voice rang out, brimming with exasperation. "Do you have to turn everything into a song? Come down and lend me a hand, won't you?"
"Look to your right," he replied, his mind busy searching for the next verse to craft.
As Katie turned her head, she spotted a stone, no bigger than a golf ball, lying nearby. A grin crept across her face as she snatched it up, took aim, and let the stone fly, hitting Joey square in the chest.
"Ouch!" he yelped in surprise. "That hurt, you daft girl!"
"Then leave me be," Katie retorted, sticking her tongue out playfully.
Joey and Charlie, clearly taken aback by their sister's newfound assertiveness, exchanged annoyed glances and beat a hasty retreat back into the house. John chuckled and tossed the towel he used to wipe his sweaty forehead, allowing Katie to dry herself and her beloved book. Then he resumed his melody, and Katie returned to her fairy tales.
The following day, Katie awoke to the sound of hysterical shrieks. She hurried into the hall and saw her grandmother dragging Joey and Charlie by their ears, heading for the bathroom.
"Eleven and twelve years old!" Katie overheard her grandmother scolding. "Almost grown up, yet behaving like mischievous little ones! In my good beds! Spoiling those expensive sheets! Shame on both of you!"
A soft chuckle echoed through the hall, and when Katie turned, she found John standing in the doorway of his room, an impish expression on his face.
"Did you know," he whispered to Katie, "that if you place someone's fingers in a bowl of lukewarm water while they sleep, they'll wet the bed? Quite the amusing trick."
He winked at his sister and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's have breakfast," he suggested, and she smiled gratefully.
***
Francine: Can you recall the very first time you heard about Bill?
Katie de Rossi looked affectionately at her husband, sitting to her left, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It seemed as if that moment of first discovery marked the beginning of their enduring bond – many years before they'd actually met.
Katie: Oh, I remember it vividly! It was the year he burst onto the scene.
Francine: The year the "Anywhere but Here" album was released?
Katie: Exactly. I was nine, and John was thirteen. We spent that summer at our grandparents' in Hartford. John got a guitar for his thirteenth birthday in March, and from that moment on, he tried to play everything... and I mean everything... that came on the radio. It was somewhat annoying, to be honest.
John: Hey!
Katie: Well, you can't listen to the same guitar riff a million times a day without going bonkers!
Anyway, around that time, Billy's "Anywhere but Here" was on constant repeat, and John was captivated by his music. He kept saying, "Katie, Bill Bentley is from Fontaine Park, just twenty miles from Diamond Meadow! And he's made it big! So can we!"
I didn't fully grasp his excitement at nine years old, but he was so enthusiastic that I got swept up in it too. The funny thing is, he had never heard of Bill before, even though it was already his third album. But it was the first time he gained national recognition. Billy had been playing in clubs around our hometown for six or seven years, but nobody had given a damn for the longest time.
Bill: Thanks, my love! It's good to know my passion, talent, and fire went unnoticed for so long.
Bill Bentley seemed to be in high spirits. He wasn't exhibiting the usual professional seriousness he was known for when giving interviews. Perhaps he felt more at ease, knowing that the spotlight wasn't solely on him for once. He allowed himself to be the joker – a role he usually plays at home but seldom in public, as he carried a great deal of responsibility from the outset. Bill Bentley and his music had made a lasting impact on an entire generation. His lyrics prompted young people to question their past, present, and future, and Bill was always mindful of that. He couldn't afford to joke too much or be careless with his words, for they held significant weight for many. Today, he was relaxed, enjoying the fact that his wife and brother-in-law were in the limelight, and during the interview, he couldn't resist cracking the odd joke now and again.
Francine: Were you as fascinated by his music as John?
Katie: Well, as fascinated as a nine-year-old could be. He wasn't Elvis –
Bill: Isn't she a charming woman?
Katie: Oh darling, I adore you, but Elvis Presley is the King! He always has been! He was the man I looked up to, the one my little child's heart worshipped. His voice, looks, and music captivated me entirely... and then along came Billy with his music, which was so... I can't quite describe it...
Bill: Wonderful?
Katie: It was... I guess it was chaotic and unconventional but normal and ordinary at the same time. Those are the words I'd use today to describe what I felt back then. We knew Elvis and the Beatles... they were giants who shook our world. Untouchable idols that boys emulated and girls adored... it was an idyllic world when you were a child, seeking solace in the dreams that rock & roll music conjured.
Bill: But then I came along and shattered this little girl's dreams... something I'm still very proud of.
Katie: Then Billy appeared with his songs about people who were unhappy and wanted to escape their mundane lives. People stuck in lousy jobs, earning little money, choosing a life filled with crime and sadness. People who lost their jobs or left everything behind, got in their cars and ran away.
Francine: I can imagine those lyrics were quite challenging for a child to grasp.
Katie: Yes, initially... but I understood the stories... and the emotions he conveyed through his lyrics. The sense of wanderlust and heartache had been in me for as long as I could remember. But what I didn't quite grasp at that age was why most of the people he sang about didn't do anything to change their lives.
John: She asked me, "Johnny, if that man doesn't want to be on the assembly line, why doesn't he become a doctor or a lawyer?" And I replied, "It's not that simple." And she asked, "Why not?" And I couldn't explain it to her. Why wasn't it that simple? Why couldn't the regular guy from Jersey become the world's greatest doctor? And why did I have a nine-year-old sister asking such questions?
Katie: As I grew older... well, many people forget that you grow up with the music you love. You may hear the song for the first time at nine years old, but it grows with you. You see the world through that song with different eyes as you age... when you first hear a lyric at such a young age, you don't say, "Hey, I know that," but you carry the song in your heart as you go through life, and in a certain moment, it clicks, and you realize what the singer wanted to tell you. That's how it was for me. I walked the streets of my little town differently; I looked at my environment differently when we drove around as a family. I saw the beggar by the roadside and wondered, "How did he end up there? What's his story?"
Francine: You seem to have been remarkably insightful for your age.
John: She's always been that way. I remember we watched a horror movie once –
Katie: That must have been the same year. We were at our grandparents' place, and I sneaked into Johnny's room when I couldn't sleep. He was watching this horror movie, and it was terrifying!
John: Unfortunately, I can't recall the title, but it centered around the true story of this bloke who, with his 14-year-old girlfriend, killed eleven people within a few weeks. It truly was a twisted movie, but strangely, I enjoyed it. Anyway, Katie sat beside me, and we watched it together, but instead of screaming or being afraid, she simply gazed at the screen and didn't utter a word. When the movie ended, she looked at me with those big eyes and asked, "Why did he do that?"
She wasn't scared of that murderer; she merely wanted to comprehend why someone would take the lives of others. But I couldn't explain it to her.
Katie appears more at ease and relaxed now that the conversation has shifted in a different direction. It's evident that she doesn't wish to delve too much into her childhood, particularly the time before the music. The time before she met Bill Bentley.
The image blurs once more, and the second commercial break is broadcasted.