C h a p t e r S e v e n
My relief was short-lived as I saw he bent to pull out a metronome and clanged it on top of the piano rather menacingly. A large file filled with what I presumed were music sheets soon followed and I gulped, looking away quickly, and pretended to be looking at the pond outside the window. After some rustling, he cleared his throat.
"Right, you ready to impress me, Miss Rose?" Jasper asked dangerously, putting on a pair of glasses from nowhere. I did a double take... since when did he wear glasses? Even though they fit him so well I knew it meant that he meant serious business.
I gulped again.
"I'm r-ready." I replied sternly towards the piano and cracked my wrists to warm them up. Okay, so I didn't impress him with my essay writing, but certainly, I'll prove my point with my piano playing.
"Before you start, I'll be right up and frank. I'm also very serious when it comes to the piano, even more than I do English. I know I said that I'll try not to give you too much of a hard time, but I can't promise anything now for sure without hearing you play. Just... don't take anything to heart for what I may say after okay? Sometimes the right criticism is the only way you'll improve. Remember, this is what it takes to stand out as a pianist."
I nodded nervously, suddenly feeling unsure about my skills as my fingers inched towards the piano keys anxiously.
"Right, show me what you got. Where's that arpeggio I asked for? We don't have all day."
Startled at the suddeness in his deep voice, I snapped my head straight and readied myself before hesitating. "Um, sorry Mr. Green but which arpeggio? Y-you didn't tell me which one!" It wasn't my fault, he really didn't say anything.
"Bb minor."
"Oh okay–"
"Then followed by Bb major, go down the list, then do your harmonics. After that I want to hear your chromatic scales–" He continued, flipping to a new page on his notepad. "Broken chords next and then regular scales and contrary motion. All should be done one after another with no pauses. That should be good for the warm-up."
I wanted to stop him right there. One at a time please, I couldn't keep up!
"Then followed by your list A through C, then I'll hear your leisure extras each— your best two. Well, please start. We've already lost enough time."
I blinked slowly, which was I meant to start off with again?
I think it was my Bb major arpeggios or was it the minor? I sat there wiggling my fingers on the keys without playing a note, willing my memory to recall. I don't get how he expected me to remember everything he'd said.
"Chop chop Mary, I'm not going to repeat myself," he sniffed with a waiting eyebrow. Somehow, Mr. Green has transformed from that charismatic and easy-going English teacher to an old grumpy, mid-century piano teacher; two polar opposites.
As Mr. Green sat waiting expectantly with his arms crossed, I quickly understood that only technical skill mattered in his realm.
"My name's not Mary," I blurted out rather unintelligently. I didn't know what else to say other than admit that I wasn't a very good listener.
"I don't care, Mary Rose. Now play me that Bb minor arpeggio!"
Ha! At least that tricked him into re-telling me which scale to play. With one hurdle over, honestly, that was just the start of my troubles. I took a deep breath and began to play my scales.
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I finished the last cadence of my song, holding my last chord in place counting four counts before lifting it gently off the keys. My heart was still beating a million miles per hour and sweat bore across my brow.
At last I'd finished the demanding repertoire he asked for. It had been so nerve-racking to play in front of a new teacher who was judging me so intently, let alone one as accomplished as he was. My fingers never did stop shaking, especially when I could hear the all scribbling in his notebook whenever I made any mistakes.
"Hmm... your scales weren't bad. The tone of your notes sounded mostly even, though there were still many parts that could do with better articulation. That means you don't practice your chromatics enough; not have enough agility to match the speed. As for your pieces, I'll start with something I liked. Your List C, the one by Norton, it was quite beautiful and tranquil; almost like a spider running across its web in the golden sunlight."
"Um.. Thank...you." I blushed slightly. But seriously? A spider running across its web? I wanted to gag. Yup, he really was the same Mr. Green somewhere deep down, whatever that meant. Regardless, it still was a compliment right? I finally did something right in his eyes!
I studied him carefully, expecting a smirk on his face or something familiar but his face was set straight hard. His eyes glowed even darker behind his glasses, his eyebrows even thicker. It was like he really had a different persona; he was emotionless and incredibly hard to read.
He turned towards me and upon meeting the coldness in his gaze, I find out it was far too soon for me to celebrate.
"Now for your other songs, that's a whole different story," His eyes nailed me over, catching me off guard. "I'm sorry, do you even KNOW what a Scherzo is? or the meaning of Maestoso? Come, tell me what it means. "
I frowned at his accusation slightly, "Yeah, of course, I do. It means it's meant to be majestic and light, full of vigorousness and tempo. "
"Then tell me why I heard none of it in your piece?" He demanded.
"I don't know, I mean it's been a while–"
"The notations are there for a reason, not just so you can bang on a piece without any thought given to how it should be interpreted."
"But–"
"I won't ask you to play them again, seeing as according to this certificate you've already passed the exam for this level, but I'll just let you know that your Scherzo was about 8 beats per minute too slow. It lacked some serious energy. It's meant to be very vivace! Lively! You know?"
"Yes. Mr. Green I–"
"Next. Your List B..." He checked over his notes without letting me get a word in. "The one by Scriabin. How should I put it? It was monotonous at best. I don't get how you can go from one extreme to the other so quickly within the span of two songs. The first was too bangy and clangy, the second too dull and dreary.
"I'm seriously wondering how you even managed to score that A grade when two of your main technical songs were that flawed, I'm almost flabbergasted. Your List C was decent enough like I said, but how can it only be 1 song out of 5?! That's insane, it can't save a train wreck of a repertoire! Not to mention I stopped listening to your extra leisure pieces after so I can't even comment on it."
I felt my jaw drop lower and lower with every criticism as my ego took a huge blow.
What the heck was his problem?
Mr. Green, totally unfazed continued to look me steadfastly in the eye. "Who was your exam teacher? Tell me the person's name, I might know them. Was it Markus Bentley? or Henry Stafold? It sounds like something they would do."
"No, my exam was in Perth... I don't think you know them." I wanted to add that even if he did know them, everyone was entitled to form their own opinions, but managed to hold onto my tongue.
"Perth? Ah... That explains it perfectly well. I know the board of examiners there, we never get along. Those bastards over there are pulling the music standards. Honestly, a 'B minus' tops is more than generous for that... whatever that noise was that I heard."
Excuse me?! Noise?
Hearing that was like a final kick in the guts. I gripped my hands into tight fists.
Okay, first my English gets dropped off, and now my piano skills too? The nerves of this guy! He thought he could totally dismiss the years of passion and practice I put into my playing with a simple wave of his hands. I think not!
So freaking what if Jasper Green was a child prodigy, gifted by the Gods, with the talent of a wilder-beast, mastering every single thing he touched? It doesn't cost him a thing to be less rude and more understanding with ordinary people (such as myself and just about everybody else in the planet), who perhaps aren't so gifted in life.
Great, I give up.
This was another reason to feel more afraid of him, his standards were impossible to achieve! I wondered how tight he's been wearing his pants all these years. I've got to say, I must pity all the students he's ever taught. I can't see how anybody could ever satisfy someone like him unless you were born with 8 fingers on each hand.
Guided by the sound of some furious scratching, I gazed over to the notepad where he was ferociously writing:
"Needs to understand and apply more musical terminology into all of the pieces. The technical potential was thus hindered and not displayed as intended. Doomed from the beginning. Marks off!'
He ended the last sentence by loudly dotting the paper dramatically while I seethed in anger.
He sighed deeply as if listening to my playing and then writing a few notes was equivalent to running a marathon. Meanwhile, I was the one sweating up a storm.
He caught my gaze and I saw a little sparkle had returned to the blue of his eyes.
I turned away angrily.
"Aww don't be mad Rose. I can't blame you too much, you had teachers that lead you astray. But now you have me. After I'm done with you, I'll turn you from a B- English student and pianist into an A+ kid in both regards," he chuckled with a little too much pride and amusement.
I rolled my eyes hard at that one and looked away for refuge. Welp, Mr. Green the English teacher seemed to have returned once again, though as usual, there was nothing funny in his comments.
Things were silent for a few moments before I finally turned my attention back to him. I was beginning to wonder why he wasn't saying any more things to discredit me, I'm sure there was a lot more he could say. To my surprise, he was already staring back at me.
"W-what?!" I spat out nervously, suddenly feeling hot.
"You're very peculiar," was all he answered before he stood up, ripping the sheet off his notepad and handing it over to me. I flinched slightly at his sudden extended arm and carefully took the piece of paper out of his hands, ignoring the shivers down my spine as weird feelings started to return.
He narrowed his eyes at my reaction.
"Well, I guess that's all for today. Next week's lesson, we'll begin with learning a few new scales and start on your new list B. As for now, go home and work on this piece. You're doing it for your exam." He flipped through his file and handed me some more papers.
I looked at the unfamiliar title and suddenly my temper returned. "Huh? A new piece? I didn't get to see any of the options though, I didn't choose this yet."
"Too bad, I'm making you play it and that's final. I'm thinking it's better for me to choose songs for you that will actually suit your capabilities. That way, we won't have a repeat of what I heard before."
"Whoa whoa... Wait a minute, that's not fair Mr. Green!" I protested loudly standing up. "I always get to choose my own pieces, that's the part I look forward to the most! You can't take that away from me! I don't even know what this song is. What if I don't like it?! You don't know that I'll like it!"
What a controlling jerk! Every musician knows how horrible it is to have a piece forced on you, especially when you have to work on it for months on end, repeating each bar hundreds of times until you nail it. You hate every minute of it!
I was beginning to really regret ever agreeing to take lessons from him. He was horrible!
"I don't care if you like it or not. You're doing it. You don't have to like everything from the get-go, but the more you play, the more you will appreciate another genre. Just trust my judgment and do as much as you can for now. I'll see you on Tuesday for English."
"This isn't fair!"
"Tough, life isn't fair. You're under my command now remember? I'm the boss and I know what's best. Though... Rose. How did you say you were getting home? Do you need me to drop you off? It's getting quite late," He suggested while looking out the window, his voice starting to soften.
Despite him totally ignoring my pleas, I couldn't help but follow his eyes.
Out the window, the sun was almost fully setting, casting a tinge of blue hue into the room.
Dropped off?
My eyes widen as I was suddenly reminded of another danger. I still had to get home and it was getting dark! My anger fizzled out quickly.
The thought of being alone in even more of a smaller confined space like a car with Mr. Green made me afraid. But then again, going to the bus stop alone and taking the bus at night seemed equally as frightening. Shit, shit, shit!
"No!" I said a little too quickly. "I mean, no that's okay! I've got to go to my Mum's restaurant anyway and it's a little far from your house. I wouldn't want to waste your petrol!" Crap.
Nice save, Rose... not.
Mr. Green sniggered. "Waste my petrol? Rose just take a look at my house."
For such big words, somehow I doubted he meant that in a boastful way. He sounded almost spiteful instead. "I'll take you back, it's no trouble."
I was taken aback, however, I remained silent, trying to think up another excuse.
He sighed. "I'm sorry Rose. I've been having a bad time lately, so I'd like to apologize again if I seemed very mean earlier. As I mentioned before, this is how I am when it comes to my passion. I'm just like that, especially with my music."
"Oh... Uh, not at all. I understand..." I looked down at my toes in the reflection of the piano and wiggled them around. Mr. Green was surprising me again. Somehow I understood what he meant by it; my music.
Judging from the sentimental way he said it, music really meant something important to him, as it did to me.
I was the same way. I was picky. I liked what I liked, and hated what I hated. Music was my therapy, my medicine for trauma; it was personal to me. I guess in his musical world, he chased perfection. Perfection for him was his remedy...
"You're silly. I'm sure your mother would appreciate it if I made sure you got home safe. There are a lot of bad people out there." Mr Green moved over to his desk, took a seat waiting for me to make up my mind while I brooded over his warnings.
There are a lot of bad people out there.
I lingered around the edge of my shoulder bag. Hearing the last part especially made me shiver and even if he didn't say it directly, it was as if he knew that I was always more cautious of danger and people. Feeling as if cornered, I reluctantly agreed. "Could I please use your bathroom first before we go?"
"Sure the guest bathroom is just down the corridor on the left, near the staircase at the entrance," he instructed.
I turned around and began walking swiftly to the bathroom, having an ear out in case his footsteps followed me. Quickly I passed the staircase, finding the bathroom door. I didn't even have enough time to properly map out an escape route for his house in my mind, my heart was thumping far too loudly.
Once safely in the bathroom, I quickly locked the door and flipped the lights on. I took out my phone from my pocket with shaking hands and speed-dialed my mother's mobile, hoping she'd pick up the phone.
I felt really foolish right now, calling her to say that I'd be dropping by at the restaurant when really I should be at home finishing my homework. No one expects me to be in at work today, but I couldn't let Mr. Green find out where I lived.
At this point, I felt as if after those two years of recovery, I was still not getting any better. Since arriving in his class, it was as if I was taking steps backward instead of moving on. There was something about Mr. Green; his good looks, strong and athletic physique, and mysterious personality– it was like he was the type that would unravel me.
He radiated such an unsettling chill I wanted so desperately to avoid, yet at the same time it tempt me so much to investigate.
"Hi! You've reached my mobile. I'm not here at the moment, you know busy busy me!" Mum's cheerful voice rang out through my phone. "Please leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible! Don't forget, after the tone!"
Hearing the dull dial tone brought sadness upon me. Sometimes I felt so guilty and ashamed for being the way I was... or still am now, seeing as there's something obviously still not right about me.
With the anniversary of Grampa's passing coming up, I shouldn't be worrying my Mum even more than I have already done so in the past. It almost killed her to see me the way I had been all those years ago, and then to lose one of the most important figures in her life soon after I'd moved to Perth almost broke her.
I can't let my family know my current struggle anymore, Mum especially. I'd already cast too much pain on them. It was selfish to constantly reel them back into my world.
With a sigh, I ended the call and put the phone back in my pocket while contemplating the logic behind my overreaction. I drew a blank as usual.
Mr. Green couldn't be such a bad guy right? Everyone's got something a little different about them and I could feel that he must have something on his mind as well.
Maybe he was going through something unfortunate, or he wasn't feeling well. He lightly touched on it earlier, though without elaborating. I was probably just feeding off his gloomy energy... After all, as Dad always told me, being bigger on feelings than logic ran in our family genes.
I went to the basin and splashed some cool water onto my face and rationalized further.
A fifteen-minute ride from here to the restaurant didn't sound like the end of the world.
And so, I took a few deep breaths in before opening the bathroom door and began walking back up the hallway to his study, the whole way back to him, chanting under my breath:
"Mr. Green was a nice, regular guy.
Yes, a very nice, regular guy."
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