August 12, 2007
The Piano
12. The Empty Room
Once the pianist moved out, his bedroom was given to the girl. Out went the piano and the stark colors.
The room was first scrubbed clean and sprayed with girlish aromas, to eradicate forever the thing the mother hated the most: cigarette smoke. It seemed to be ingrained in every nook of the room.
Finally the mother declared the place ready for the girl and she moved in, bringing her dolls and her pink bedding. Posters of movie stars and rock bands were pinned on the wall.
Soon the place looked like it had always belonged to the girl. She made it her little escape place. Her record player had its place of honor, and she would play the rock music to her heart's content. The music that used to irk her brother, who called it dissonant and loud. Un-music, he would say.
It was her world and she loved it. But it was always missing something.
It didn't have the piano and its soothing sound.