ALICE
The moment I woke up, I knew it was a fine Sunday morning. Houdini’s butt was facing my nose, what a lark. But that didn’t stop me from saying “Good morning, world!” like I was in a bubbly musical or something.
I tied my hair into a loose bun, because buns are always of the essence during the mornings, and wiped the sleep from my eyes. Fry hadn’t texted or called me since our meet up at The Cap and this worried me a bit. I know it’s only been like, twenty four hours but still, it was weird, and I had this feeling…
You haven’t bothered me for 24 hours, that’s a world record, I typed. Hope you’re ok. How’s the frat house? Are they treating you good? :p
I clicked SEND and tossed my phone on the bed, hitting Houdini’s back. He woke up.
“Good morning, you ball of fat.” I said and he sticks out his tongue.
I open the door, and the mouthwatering smell of bacon and eggs immediately made my stomach growl. Within seconds, I’ve transformed into a ravenous coyote.
Following the aromatic trail, it leads me to the kitchen, where I then see Harry cooking by the counter, humming a joyous tune which I thought was nostalgic. His curls were kept back by a bun, and I almost laugh because his looked prettier than mine.
I cleared my throat and he turned around. The man was a sight; he was holding a greasy spatula and was wearing my floral apron.
“Morning, Alice.” He grinned. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Smiling, I shook my head.
“Whatcha’ cookin there, Chef? It smells good.”
“Eggs and bacon, with a side of…” he quickly mixed the food up in the pan with the spatula. “Sweet potato hash. ”
“That sounds delicious.” I say as I watch him pull out plates from the dish rack.
He turned off the stove. “I falsely assert that’s unlikely to be not untrue.”
“Very eloquently put, sir.” I move toward the island and he hands me a full breakfast plate. My stomach growled at the sight of it.
“Bon appétit!” He said proudly.
“Merci.”
He smiled and slid into the bar stool across from me. “So…what are your plans for today?”
“I don’t usually have plans during Sundays.” I shrugged. “What about you?”
“Well, Jaromir called.” He stabbed the bacon on his plate with a fork.
“What did he say?”
“The ensemble’s doing an open rehearsal this afternoon,” He said, chewing. “For the final concerto tomorrow before they head to Boston.”
“Cool.” I nodded my head. “You should go.”
“You can come along too, if you like.”
I think about it before saying, “Okay. I’ll go.” I’m sure I have nothing better to do anyway.
“Great!” He gives me a thumb up. “I can introduce you to Jaromir.”
We were silent for a moment, only the occasional sound of spoon and fork clanging against the ceramic plates. It was nice to eat breakfast with someone for a change. And it’s been a long time since I’ve eaten a full, delicious, breakfast, and not cereal and over-fried bacon strips. I’m a horrible cook. Harry, on the other hand, is a good cook, I’ll give him that. He had turned a simple eggs and bacon meal into something incredibly delicious. I wanted to ask for more but I was too shy to say so.
I stood up and placed my empty plate in the dishwasher. “So, how’s the apartment case going on? Thought of calling the police yet?”
“Those dimwits?” He scoffed. “Nope, not yet, Alice.”
“Somebody’s against the civil force.”
“No I’m not against them. I just think they’re dimwits. The FBI’s the perfect unit to fix this ridiculous shitty mayhem. At least those people actually use their brains and get things done.” He stood up.
“We’ll call them to help us investigate. After all, we’re not one hundred percent sure that it’s Morrison’s men who ransacked us. What if they were just…gangbangers or something? We need evidence. After that, we call the SWAT team.” He said, washing his hands.
“Then the military.” I say and he chuckled. “What? We can use the firepower."
“Whatever you say.” He said as he took off the apron, folded it, and placed it in the cupboard.
.
We pulled into the parking lot behind Metropolitan Hall. I step out the vehicle and watch the people walking about in the street. Some were carrying water jugs and some were eating ice-creams.
It was a hot afternoon (it was December for Pete’s sake. Climate change is a bitch.); the sun glared down on the city through the crystal sky and the heat radiating from the pavement soon created a blistering oven-like atmosphere. I could feel my sweat trickling down my spine, so I folded my sleeves and tied my hair into a ponytail.
“Let’s go.” Harry said after double-checking the car’s locks.
I follow him inside the building and we make our way in the large air-conditioned theatre. My eyes widen as I see the musicians and the choir on the stage, chatting amongst each other, tuning-up, and all were dressed up casually, as if they were geniuses in disguise. Jiri, the conductor, was talking to a violinist at the side.
Harry leads me to the second row and we take our seats. I was extremely happy to be here, ecstatic, and I wanted to squeeze his hand but I’m sure he wouldn’t like that.
“Harry, můj přítel!” Jaromir stood up once he saw us and waved his hand. “You came!”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Harry smiled.
Jaromir grinned and sat back on his chair. A small amount of people started coming into the theatre, taking their seats.
Harry leaned over and whispered, “I hope this won’t bore you too much.”
“Shh. They’re starting.” I said and he chuckled softly.
Jiri raised his baton and I close my eyes, wanting to savor the music this time. I hear the soft impassioned rhythm of the cornets, then the deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison…slowly building up suspense…passion…then the roil of the percussion, making my heart thump with its every beat. The vibrations from different instruments enchanted me.
As I listened to the first movement of the immortal Symphony No. 9 again, though this time only a rehearsal rendering, it gave me a new reason to live. I listened; with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the spaces in the large room. The small hairs on my arms rise.
When the human voices leaped up thrilling from the surge of harmony, my heart almost stood still. The women and men’s voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. It was absolutely breathtaking.
The great chorus throbbed against my fingers and my feet. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth—an upsurge of heavenly vibration—and died away like clouds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
.
“Harry! Come here.”
“Jaromir,” The boy said sheepishly, though a hint of warning was evident behind his tone. “I can’t—”
“Oh, still the shy guy I see.” Jaromir looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. “Impress the lady, eh?”
Harry and I laughed. The theatre was almost empty now; some of the string players decided to stay a little longer and practice some more. These guys were the so-called “virtuosos” in the bunch. Also, I had the privilege of meeting Jiri Belohlavek earlier, a privilege I would treasure forever.
“Come on, buddy.” Jaromir prompted him.
Harry exhaled loudly. “Fine.”
“Nádherné!”
He jogged towards the stage and I take a seat on the front row, snickering at the troubled expression on his face.
Jaromir gave him a violin and a bow.
“I might be a bit rusty.” said Harry, sitting with the genii. “I haven’t played in years.”
“Nonsense. You’re one of the best violinists I know. Now, we will be playing a short rendition of Beethoven’s Concerto in D major, opus number sixty one. I’m sure you are very familiar with this, Harry.” Jaromir smirked.
Harry gave him the middle finger and Jaromir laughed, which made me wonder about their past.
“Now, now, let’s start. Mister Josef has yet to brush his dental prosthetics clean for tomorrow. You know how it gets all dirty during rehearsals.” The old guy at the back snorted.
I watch as they all position their bows, and Harry, though seemingly the youngest in the group, blended in well with them. There was something about him holding the violin that I really liked. He almost looked, superior.
“And!”
His fingers hovered over the fingerboard, running over the strings in harmony with the rest of the violinists. Harry’s nervousness seemed to vanish. Instead, there was only the most beautiful music. He’d look at the music sheet from time to time, tapping his foot with the beat of sound, then he’d look at me and smirk, and I’d flush away.
At the middle part of the rendition, Jaromir did a solo, which was absolutely breathtaking, and Harry kept giving him the evil eye. Jaromir sticks his tongue out at him and they both laugh like twelve year old boys. It was fun to watch them horse around every once in a while, though the older violinists seemed to think otherwise.
As they finished the piece, I stood up and clapped. “Bravo!”
“Miss Alice,” Jaromir called. “Come up here, please.”
My applause dies down. “Okay?”
I walk towards the stage and I feel the men’s stares burning through my skin.
Jaromir clasped Harry’s shoulder. “Here’s a thank you gift, my friend.” He sat behind his musical stand and they all start playing a waltz.
I looked at Harry in confusion.
“They want us to dance.” He said, rubbing his nape. “Jaromir, always the romantic moron.”
“Oh!” My cheeks started burning. “Um…”
He walked towards me and stood just a few inches away. He looked at me standing in front of him, bright red and chewing my cheeks to death. Then he smiled that crooked smile and wrapped his arms around my torso. Strains of beautiful music floated in the background as he held me close.
“Harry, I—”
“Shh.”
I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. Though it felt strangely wrong, I had never been more content in my entire life. “What do you think love really is?” Harry whispered. It wasn’t really a question directed at me; it was more a train of thought. “I think it’s the way the night is always there, but sometimes gets overpowered by the sun. Maybe it’s the way you hear music—or feel it, and it becomes the best way to describe yourself. The stars, the sunset, the night, this waltz—is that what love is?”
I didn’t have an answer yet, so I remained silent. The song’s last notes faded out and we just stood, locked in our embrace. Neither of us wanted to move; the movement was too perfect. However, we were soon interrupted when Jaromir started applauding, jeering as he did. We jumped apart, startled. I looked at Harry and he grinned, pink splashed on his cheeks. It was only then that I realized I was holding my breath.
* * * *
see gif for harry's grin at the end