Chapter 160

“She was something new.”
—G.S. Jennsen, Dissonance

I SUPPOSE LAUGHING when you see a girl naked for the first time isn’t really the appropriate response, but I couldn’t help myself. Remas scowled at me and stomped her foot, which did nice things for her ample breasts. Despite the humor, my cock was rising in her direction.

“What? What’s so funny about my naked body?” she demanded. Cindy and Desi returned from the bathroom with their toothbrushes in their mouths and both snorted when they saw Remas. “You, too? Is this some kind of ritual hazing you put auditioners through?”

“No. I’m sorry, Remas. Honest,” I sputtered. “It was an inside joke and we are being unkind by not sharing it with you. You’re beautiful! Sit here beside me and I’ll explain.”

“I hope it’s good. I’d like a laugh, too, if it’s not at me.”

“You made a big impression on us when we were in DC,” I began. I took her hand and tried to keep my erection out of her direct line of sight. It wasn’t being helped by looking at her shapely figure and breasts. At least sitting down, I wasn’t able to focus on the slit between her legs. “Then you suggested you’d like to audition with us. The conversation turned to how little we really knew about you and Cindy said we didn’t even have any idea what you were hiding under the hijab. You could be bleach-blonde or even bald. It was just so completely unexpected that you would take it off and actually be blonde! We couldn’t help ourselves.”

“I’m not blonde,” Remas insisted. “I have brown hair. Light ... brown.”

“It is not the black or dark brown hair we’d expect from a Middle Eastern woman,” Desi said as she returned, wiping her face with a towel. “And you’re really beautiful. Not that we expected you to be ugly but I mean really beautiful.”

“In the first place, I’m not Middle Eastern. I’m not an Arab if that’s what you’re thinking,” Remas said.

“Well, with the hijab, I guess we kind of assumed you were.”

“Yeah. Well, we all have our secrets, you know.” She sighed. “I figured this would all come out this week but I didn’t plan to just strip and reveal everything at once. I’m Romany. My father immigrated to the US when the borders first opened in 1990. He met my mother here and I was born in 2002. I got the light hair from her and the darker skin from him.”

“And which is Muslim?” Cindy asked.

“Neither. I’m not Muslim.”

“But ... the hijab?”

“My mother always tied my hair in a headscarf. Someplace along the line in school, kids started taunting me about being a Muslim terrorist. I lived in a pretty redneck area down south. You’d be amazed at how racist they still are. We got threats all the time, even though we went to a Presbyterian church. Being a devious creature, I capitalized on it. I started wearing the hijab in junior high and discovered the school had to make allowances for me on the assumption of religious freedom. I had to either be excused from gym or have a separate dressing area. Imagine my surprise when I found it works the same way in National Service. Anyone can have special accommodations if needed for physical, mental, religious, or cultural reasons.”

“Well, it sure worked with us.”

“And everyone else in the National School, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t blow my cover. Besides, you wouldn’t believe the response of the rednecks when I go home to visit. If someone starts to hassle me, all I have to do is raise my hand in a loose fist with my thumb raised as if on a detonator and they scatter.”

“Wow,” I said. “I hope you won’t hide yourself or your story from the rest of the pod.”

“I came here to audition. I figured that would mean full disclosure eventually. I wasn’t expecting it to be full exposure the first night!”

“Do you want a shower before bed?” I asked.

“Are you offering to wash my back?”

“Um ... As attractive as that sounds—and looks—it’s probably not a good thing right yet,” I said. “And I’ve had a couple of showers already today. As soon as I brush my teeth, I’m ready for bed.”

“I prefer to shower in the morning,” she laughed. “Lead on.”

“Do you want to sleep next to Jacob?” Cindy asked. “Or between Desi and me? We’re pretty safe but Jacob responds to naked girls cuddled up to him. Desi’s the best bet for keeping him under control.”

“Um ... Not that I’m all that opposed to Jacob responding to me, but since he just said it wasn’t the right thing yet, I’ll choose you and Desi. Um ... Unless you and Desi want to sandwich Jacob. I can take an outside edge.”

“Oh ... it’s not the right thing yet for us, either,” Cindy said.

Nanette and I had a light run—just three miles—Thursday morning and I was back in time for a shower and to load my viol into the truck before we headed for school. I had a first period lesson with Herr Richter and he didn’t like to start late. I was surprised to find Remas ready to leave with her cello in hand. She had her hair down at breakfast and explained her heritage to all our pod, but she was back in her hijab as we walked out to the truck.

“You’re going to school today?” I asked.

“Without you and Cindy here to work with, it seemed like a good thing. I’m teaching master classes today as an exchange student from the National School. Dr. Donahue set everything up when we decided I should come out to work with you directly. And tomorrow, we have time set aside to work on the arrangement and performance of Glory.”

“We do? Cindy and I normally rehearse first period Friday but then I’ve got my regularly scheduled classes.”

“I don’t think so.”

I think Herr Richter was happier to have Remas with her cello in my lesson than me with my viol. I guess that was understandable since he’s a cellist. It was like they had a secret code language they could use as members of the same club. I still got attention because we were working on the viol part for Glory. It would be a little tricky as I’d be changing from viol to guitar about a minute into the piece. He suggested Remas carry the drone continuity on the cello.

That, finally, brought us to the discussion we were bound to have eventually. We’d toyed with it the night before. Would Remas play with Cindy, Desi, and me when we did our recording. I refused to commit until I’d heard it all put together.

When I got to orchestra, it was to find that Remas was already there and consulting with Mr. LeBlanc. He set an extra chair and music stand at the end of the cello section and Remas took her place, greeting the other cello players.

“We are pleased to have Ms. Hayek of the National School of the Arts with us this morning,” LeBlanc said. “She will be conducting a master class in the second half of our class. But for this first, we thought it would be entertaining to do some sight reading. On your stands you will find Tchaikovsky’s Andante Cantabile. This piece is normally just strings but you will find a full orchestra adaptation, which Ms. Hayek provided. We’re using this piece to give you a chance to hear and appreciate her performance on the cello solo. Later you will all get a chance to sight read and play that passage. Ms. Hayek, if you would give us the tone for tuning, please?”

Remas sounded a clean smooth A and we all came to tune with her. LeBlanc raised his baton and counted out the tempo then brought us in. It was as ragged as a high school orchestra sight reading a new piece of music could be, but when we all fell silent for the solo, Remas brought tones out of her cello that made my chest vibrate.

“We’re going to learn so much this afternoon!” Cindy said as she led Remas to our table at lunch.

“How was your first morning at Mad Anthony High School?” Beca asked Remas.

“I’ve had fun. It’s great being treated like a guest celebrity, even when I know there are professionals there who could teach things better than I ever could. Herr Richter is a sweetheart,” Remas bubbled.

“You’re going to work with the band sixth period,” I said. “What is your plan for seventh?”

“I thought I’d tag along to your constitutional government class,” she said. There was a bit of a glint in her eye.

“We’re still into some pretty basic elements of just reading and discussing the document,” I said. “I’m looking forward to when we get into the application of the constitution to law and governance.”

“We’ll see. It’s always fun to review.”

Remas led the orchestra through a lengthy exercise in sight reading. I was amused to see Herr Richter take her seat in the cello section as she moved to the front of the class. Mr. LeBlanc sat at the piano and gave her his attention as well. Either of the men could have taught the section and I wondered what Remas would bring to it.

It was interesting. We found pads of sticky notes on our music stands with the music.

“I want you to read the first measure. Just read, no playing,” she said. We did as she said. I could hear a few people humming it. “Now, use a sticky note and cover the measure. I want you to play that measure while you read the second measure.” There was a lot of stumbling around as she gave us a count and we attempted to remember and play what was in the first measure while we read the second measure. “We’re not going back yet,” she said. “Cover the second measure with a sticky and prepare to play it while we read the third measure.”

We continued through this process until we had played through four measures. She tapped her baton and we gave her our attention.

“Sight reading music is divided into two parts as I’ve just demonstrated. The first part is reading the notes and understanding them. The second part is playing them. But if you read at the same time that you are playing, you don’t know what is coming and can’t adjust your playing. So, the trick we will continue to practice is playing what we’ve just read as we read what comes next.” She smiled at our confused faces. “We’ll divide into pairs for the next portion. I will count out the first measure while you read. Your partner will then cover that measure as you begin to play it and as you read the next measure. We’ll progress measure for measure until we reach the third bar. Let’s see how it goes.”

It was difficult. In the first exercise, we’d paused between measures while reading and playing. This time we were supposed to flow smoothly from measure to measure as we read ahead of the moving sheet of paper our partner held for us. Then we switched positions and I discovered moving the paper at the right speed was as challenging as playing the correct notes. By the end of class, though, we’d all shown improvement and got lost less frequently. I could certainly see the benefit in the exercise. I wondered if it worked the same way reading a text passage aloud. Do we read the words as we speak them or do we get a better rendition if our eyes are constantly moving ahead of what our voice speaks?