Kira at Tanglewood
Copyright© 2026 by Gina Marie Wylie
Chapter 7
On the short walk to dinner that evening, neither Kira nor Rachael talked, lost in their own silences. Kira was thinking about what she’d said to the others about the pain that ran through the concerto. She wondered if any of the three adults noticed what she’d said about her ability to express herself in the music ... she wasn’t sure she knew what Jacqueline du Pré had felt like, but she had some idea of the sense of loss of friends and others. Maybe not like the scope of a huge war, but for her, it had occupied her thoughts for months; she was afraid she’d never get over the death of those trees, even if she’d helped save the rest.
She ordered country-fried chicken with a white sauce, mashed potatoes with white gravy, and some cut corn, while Rachael had a chef salad. After the waitress had left, Rachael was the first to talk.
“After you and the gang of cellos left, John Williams stopped me and asked me two questions. One I got wrong, and the other ... well, he didn’t like my answer. His first question was, had we ever gotten Grandpa Daniel’s cello appraised? I told him that twenty years ago we did, and the appraisal came in at thirty-two thousand dollars.
“I’m afraid he laughed. ‘The appraiser did you no favors by low-balling his estimate. Maybe he had no idea about the instrument, maybe he was trying to be nice about the insurance premium.’
“I told him that the premium wasn’t too bad. He told me that ‘Petunia’ was valued at two and a half million dollars, and ours is a better instrument. Yeah, the Strad is valued at fifteen million, but it’s a loaner. When Anner Bylsma did a recording of baroque music played on a vintage Strad, it was a loaner from the Smithsonian. The Strad I play is a loaner from a wealthy New York philanthropist.
“‘And speaking of which, did Kira sign anything to use your cello? Or her parents?’
Kira was at a loss for words. She knew many world-class musicians play instruments on loan, and she knew they had contracts. “Our cello really was sitting in my father’s closet, and while we’d taken it out when we were thinking of loaning it to Jan, all I did was clean and tune it. Put a new bow string on.
“I called my father right afterwards, apologized for not calling sooner, but asking about the appraiser. My father said he was a one-man appraiser who worked on string instruments, mainly violins and violas. He said grandpa had sold one for two hundred pounds sterling, but most went for about a hundred pounds. Back then, that was a princely sum, in the closing days of the nineteenth century.
“He was profoundly shocked when I told him Yo Yo Ma and Anner Bylsma rated it in the top twenty-five in the world. He says that if the new appraisal he is going to fly to New York tomorrow to obtain is as high as the top twenty-five, it’s maybe worth five or so million ... and if that is the case, he says he’s never dreamed of taking it back, but for that much, he will have to make formal arrangements. A contract.”
Kira shrugged. “Have him see my parents. I expect my agent will want to see it. It was made crystal clear to me that my signature is meaningless. So they can deal with it.”
“So, how did your rehearsal go?” Rachael asked.
“It’s pretty clear to me,” Kira told her, “that Mr. Williams and Mr. Ma have considerable pull here. The Saturday schedule is going out the window; my ‘gang’ has decided that we need the orchestra; we’re going to play Elgar’s Cello Concerto.”
Rachael stiffened, but then the food came. Still, she hesitated before she started to eat. “Kira, have you ever heard it? I think it might be a little ... mature for you.”
Kira cut into the meat, bathed in sauce. She had to laugh when she saw what she’d cut into. It was breaded chicken white meat that had been fried then covered with sauce, so if you’d never had it before, you would be surprised that it was a chicken ‘steak.’ She looked up at Rachael then bit into a piece of the meat.
“I’ve gone and made you mad, haven’t I?” Rachael said.
Kira wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin and nodded. She put the napkin down and looked at Rachael steadily without speaking. “When I saw what they had done to some of my trees, I raged. I mean, I was crazy, I think. I didn’t think; I rushed to stop them; I did stop then for a time, but the next day they had come back. I had thought and thought, and all I came up with was a bicycle chain and padlock. There was nothing there I could tie myself to. Then Jimmy came along and handcuffed me to a tree. That worked! Then he handcuffed himself to a tree, knowing he was going to get fired.
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