Chapter 4: Trio

When Richard got back to his room that evening, Jer was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Where have you been, man?" Richard asked.

"Huh?"

"I thought you were coming into the city with us this morning."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot I had a lesson," he said. He sat up and rubbed his face. "At six I woke up to take a piss and remembered. So I went to practice."

"Close one."

"Yeah, I guess," Jer said dismissively.

"Would've sucked if you missed your first lesson."

"Nah. Mr. Barnes is cool."

"My teacher would have kicked me out of her studio, probably."

Jer just shrugged. "What've you been up to?"

"Just hanging out with a couple of girls."

"The ones you went into the city with?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Cool. I'm gonna go and hang out with Jenna, want to come?"

"Who's Jenna?"

"Just some girl I know from Gybso."

"Gybso? What's that?"

"Greater Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra. She's cool. We used to go out."

"And now?"

"Eh, sometimes we fool around, but we're not attached, you know."

"Mm. Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I'm going to hit the sack. Long day."

"Cool. See you later."

Jer slipped out into the hallway, and then came back in. "Hey, some guy left a message in some weird language. I wasn't sure if it was for you, but I left it on the machine anyway."

Richard chuckled. "Yeah, probably my dad."

"All right, later."

There was indeed a message on the answering machine from Richard's dad. They had gotten home safely, and were anxious to hear how the first lesson with Ms. Tertychnaya had gone. Richard's mom got on near the end to give her greetings.

Richard smiled as he listened. If they only knew the fun he was having.

The next morning Jer was not in his bed again. Richard wondered if he was practicing on his bass, or practicing on Jenna. If he had come back the night before, Richard sure didn't remember hearing him.

He dialed up his parents, hoping to catch them before they went to work.

"Allo?" Vittorio answered the phone.

"Papa," Richard greeted.

"Riccardo! How are you? Did you get our message?" he said. The conversation proceeded in Italian.

"Yeah, I did. Everything is great here."

"How was your lesson?"

"Good. I played the Liszt for her."

"And?"

"And we worked on it. She showed me some things to do with it."

"Good, good. How is your roommate?"

"He's nice."

"What's his name?"

"Jer."

"What?"

"Jer." Richard said again.

"Chair?" Vittorio repeated awkwardly. English was never easy for him.

Richard laughed. "Yeah, Chair."

There was a pause. "Like what you sit on?"

"Yeah."

Another pause. "Strange name..."

"How's Mama?"

"Good. Here, she wants to talk to you. Ei! Riccardo, remember to practice a lot! That's why you are there."

"Yes, Papa."

"Good. Here's Mama."

There was a pause as Richard's mother took the phone.

"Allo, Riccardo?" Angelina said.

"Hi Ma."

Richard smiled as he again answered all the same questions his Dad had just asked him.

"I'm going to go practice now," Richard said.

"Okay, Riccardo, we love you."

"Love you too, Ma."

Richard hung up. He was hungry, and he realized he hadn't made any plans to eat breakfast with Sandra and Emily.

On his way downstairs, he stopped by their room. Sandra was doing some vocal exercises. Richard knocked during a pause.

"Oh, hi Richard!" Sandra said brightly after she opened the door.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt."

"No, it's fine. I don't really feel like practicing yet anyway. Way too early to sing."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, you?"

"Nah, me neither. Is Emily practicing?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, she went to the practice rooms."

"Let's swing by on the way to the cafeteria."

Emily had just gotten out her horn when Richard and Sandra found her in one of the practice rooms.

"Hey, girl, want to go eat?" Sandra said.

Emily laughed. "I was going to play some before eating, but you two look like you're ready to go."

"You don't have to come, if you really feel the need to practice."

"And miss the first cafeteria meal? You're joking, right?"

"We'd give you a full report," Richard said.

"Then I'd probably never want to eat there. Give me a minute to pack up."

I'm glad they came to find me, Emily thought.

The walk to Tapler cafeteria was about five minutes. Far enough to be annoying if one just wanted a quick snack.

"God, this sucks," Richard said. "Looks like everyone had the same idea."

The place was mobbed with people.

"So what's today's exciting activity?" Sandra asked, as they waited in the long line for omelets.

"I think today is the tour of Crantz Hall," Emily said.

"That should be neat."

"Yeah, it's a cool place. I visited a few years ago, when my Dad guest conducted."

"Does your Dad travel a lot?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, he has guest slots all over the place."

"Did you get to travel with him?"

"Nah. I did go to school, you know."

"Mm. What's your Mom do?"

"Nothing. She died."

"Oh, I'm really sorry. I'll shut up now," Richard said.

"No, it's okay. It was a long time ago. He's been through a bunch of wives since."

"A bunch?"

"Yeah. I never liked any of them. Obviously he didn't either."

"That's too bad."

"Well, such is life."

Jer appeared out of nowhere, with a short blonde girl tagging along.

"Yo, Richard, what's up?" he said.

"Hey, Jer. How's it going?"

"Good. Can we cut in here?"

"Sure, I don't care."

"This is Jenna," he said, gesturing to his companion. Richard nodded at her.

"Hey, I saw you three in the city yesterday," Jenna said.

"Oh, were you on the bus?" Emily said, grinning.

"Yeah, I never went on the tour last year. But that sucked! It was so hot on that bus. You guys had the right idea."

"I'm Emily, by the way," she said, giving Richard a look.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, and this is Sandra," he said quickly.

"Jenna, nice to meet you."

"And my roommate Jer," he added.

After greetings were exchanged, there was an awkward pause.

"I heard the food here is supposed to be better this year," Jenna said.

"We'll see. I hope so," Richard said.

"Last year it was pretty bad."

"Are you a sophomore?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah. We called this place Crapler."

"Great," Richard groaned.

They ordered their omelets and eventually found a table.

"Why are you still in the dorm if you hate the food?" Emily asked. Richard smiled slightly at her directness.

"I was going to get an apartment with someone, but they chose not to come back."

"I thought she got kicked out," Jer said.

"She did," Jenna laughed. "Her only choice was not to come back."

"This could be worse," Jer said, waving a piece of omelet around with his fork. It slipped off and flew onto Jenna's plate.

"Jer! That's gross," Jenna exclaimed, picking the offending piece off and tossing it back onto his plate.

"I didn't chew it! Chill..."

"What did your almost-roommate do to get kicked out?" Sandra asked Jenna.

"She didn't cut it in the theory department, and she had a falling out with her teacher."

"She didn't practice, either," Jer said darkly.

Richard felt his stomach twitch nervously. I haven't practiced in two days.

"I think I was a bad influence on her," Jenna added.

"How?"

"She was my roommate in the dorm. She came from this really religious family. She was like real straight-laced, didn't drink, smoke, swear, nothing. If I said 'damn' in front of her, she'd close her eyes and turn away. I mean, we couldn't be more opposite. But, you know, I liked her. Beneath the straightjacket her parents put on her, she was a cool person."

"So you corrupted her," Emily said.

"Well, it wasn't like I was on a mission to do that, but she was around me a lot. Eventually she gave into ... temptations." Jenna chuckled. "Over Christmas break she had a huge fight with her family, and then spring semester she did an about flip. She went way overboard though. She always had trouble with theory, and she kind of let that go. Then she called her flute teacher some names when he got tough on her."

"She went down in flames, basically," Jer said.

"Now she's looking for work on the Broadway scene in New York. So that's why I'm still in the dorm."

"Crazy story," Sandra said.

"Yeah, but not uncommon. More than a few people crash out of this school," Jenna said.

"Are the theory classes really hard?" Richard asked.

"Depends who you have."

"Dobra and Connelly."

"Heh heh. Dobra is an ass," Jenna said. "Connelly is pretty lenient, though."

Sandra wailed. "Why do I have to have Dobra for both classes?"

"Oh, you'll probably do well," Jenna dismissed.

"Why?"

"Because you're pretty."

"What?"

"People say he has a soft spot for good looking girls."

"Eew, now I really don't want to be in his class!"

"Just don't go to his office, and you'll be fine," Jenna said.

"Unless you're failing," Emily said with a snigger.

"Emily, that's nasty!"

"Better than failing out of school."

"No way."

"Hey, if I had to screw Ms. Connelly to pass, I'd do it," Jer said. Jenna backhanded him on the arm.

"Why, is she hot?" Emily asked.

"She's not bad. She administered my placement test when I auditioned. If I was failing..."

"She'd probably fail you for sure after screwing you," Jenna said.

"Ouch!" laughed Emily.

The rest of them guffawed as Jer glared at Jenna. He had no comeback, though.

"Dude, when you invited me on the city tour, you didn't tell me your friends were hot," Jer said, when he and Richard were back in their room. Richard smiled as he collected his music to go and practice.

"You had a lesson," Richard said.

"So? I would have ditched."

"You're with Jenna."

"Not really. We're kind of loosely not together, sort of."

"Whatever the hell that means!"

"Which one are you with?"

Richard looked at Jer.

"I don't know," he finally said. "Both?"

"Hog. I knew you were going to say that."

Richard laughed. "I'm gonna go practice. Later."

"Later."

Richard found a practice room fairly quickly, and it was a nice piano to boot. The one he had practiced on a few days earlier was somewhat unresponsive. He noted the practice room number.

After warming up with some scales and arpeggios, he pulled out the Liszt piece and threw his mind back to the lesson. Ms. Tertychnaya had said so many things, he didn't know where to start.

Start in the music, he heard her say in his head.

He started from the beginning, and as he played the first section, her words started coming to him. He stopped, and restarted. In the early phrases, she wanted more melody. But how?

Richard experimented with playing the first phrase over and over again. He used different combinations of pedal and fingerings to try and make the chords sing melodies.

After a half-hour, he had new appreciation for how much he had to learn. Richard knew he had technical skill on the piano. He was gifted with it and demonstrated it from an early age. Fast runs and intricate passagework were no problem for him after some practice.

But already in one lesson, Ms. Tertychnaya had shown him a different look at technique. For the last thirty minutes he had been exploring the subtleties of tone and fingering, and found that it was every bit as hard to reproduce consistently as the fancy and the bombastic.

It was a bit frustrating, too. Every time he thought he finally had gotten the passage just right, the next pass was a step back.

But this is why I love music, he reminded himself.

The tour of Crantz Hall was impressive. Even Emily was affected by the atmosphere, and was unusually reserved. The concert hall was a mix of classical ornate and modern oblique. Not unlike the art museum, Richard noted, wondering if the buildings were related.

The tour guide started in the entryway, and then took the students into the hall to sit in the audience section as he gave some of the history and facts about the hall.

Backstage was all business: lighting boards, curtain controls, and a myriad of cables running up into the heights. They faded in and out of the shadows as the students walked behind the moveable backdrops.

The tour guide led the group out onto the stage, and had them face out into the empty rows of chairs. He sang out a clear note, and then cut it off. The group listened as the reverberations lasted over three seconds. He said a loud orchestra chord could be heard for over five seconds.

The silence was impeccable. Richard imagined standing there in front of the thousands of people who would fill the hall, clapping, on their feet ... What a feeling that would be! One day, he thought, one day.

"You know, the food at the cafeteria isn't that bad," Richard said.

"No, it's actually edible," Emily admitted.

"My pasta was good," Sandra said.

The three of them were headed back to the dorm after dinner. Jer and Jenna were going to a party. Emily had not wanted to go, so they split up.

"What are we doing tonight?" Richard said.

"Scrabble?" Emily said cheerfully.

"And get our asses whipped again? I don't know if I'm ready for that yet," Sandra said.

"I have this other game called Taboo," Emily said.

"Taboo, huh?" Richard said with arched brow. "Sounds naughty."

"Don't you wish, Richard," Emily said. "It's a word game."

"Great," Sandra groaned.

"No, not like Scrabble. If it were a card game, it would be more like Spit, not Bridge."