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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Palouse - 10. Chapter 10

Guarneri

Chapter 10

Guarneri – March 1988

Ten Months Later


“I have a violin I want you to try, Micah,” Jake said as they sat in the living room in Jake and Robbie’s Queen Anne house on one of his trips. It was just the three of them in the living room, relaxing after dinner and a weekend of lessons for Micah with Marcia Vilas. Marcia had dropped Micah off earlier in the day, begging off from a dinner invitation due to a prior commitment. Jake rose from the sofa, untangling himself from Robbie’s arm that had been loosely draped over his shoulder, and went down the hall, returning with a violin case. Jake handed the violin to Micah.

Micah looked at the finely made case before opening the latches. He opened the case slowly as if something might jump out at him. Inside, though, was a violin made of extraordinarily beautiful wood. It was obviously very old. Micah took it out, put it on his shoulder and fingered the strings, plucking lightly at them. He set it down and walked across the room to where his bow was sitting next to his own violin. He brought the bow back, lifted the violin to his shoulder and ran the bow against the strings to test the tuning. He adjusted the pegs until it was in tune, then took a deep breath and began to play the Caprice No. 13 by Paganini.

The sounds that came from the instrument tore through him like the blade of a well-honed knife. The richness of the tone simply astounded Micah, and Jake and Robbie, though not musicians, could tell that something was different: a richer sound filled their ears. Micah closed his eyes and entered his own world as he played the movement.

At its end, Micah brought the bow down. “What is this?” Micah asked. “The sound is awesome, the best that I’ve ever heard.” Micah began perusing the outside of the instrument in detail.

“It’s something I found at an auction in New York; it’s an investment for me. Would you like to borrow it for a while? I’d rather have it used than have it sit idle in our closet.”

“Wait a minute!” Micah shouted. He’d been peering through one of the f-holes in the face of the instrument. “This is a Guarneri. It’s like a Stradivarius; some say better. It’s 500 years old. It’s got to be worth a fortune.”

“It’s not what it’s worth that is important, Micah. It’s what one makes of an investment that’s important.”

“I’d be scared to have it in public, Jake.”

“It’s fully insured against theft, damage and virtually every other thing that could go wrong with it – except a poor player. So with you, it would be fully insured.”

Micah began to play a few bars of another Paganini Caprice, as tears came to his eyes.

“I can’t. It’s too beautiful.”

“Look, Micah,” Jake said, “you are beautiful – in your enthusiasm, in the way you play.” And physically, with those near-black eyes, the glistening black hair, the auburn tone of the skin, Jake thought. You’re going to be quite a catch for some girl. Or maybe even some boy. “I want you to take it with you; play it at your next lesson with Marcia, and then we’ll see where you are with this.”

On the plane to Spokane, Micah guarded his newly acquired violin as if he had borrowed the Mona Lisa from the Louvre. In the years that he carried it, he always kept a similar high level of vigilance.

In fact, he almost forgot his suitcase when he got off the plane in Spokane but not the two violin cases – one with the violin he owned and one with the Guarneri. He had gone down the aisle toward the entryway before he realized his mistake, and he had to wait until the other passengers cleared the aisle so that he could go back to his seat and retrieve the forgotten bag from the overhead rack – all the while guarding the precious package under his arms and glaring at passengers who accidentally jostled it.

A worried Betty waited outside the boarding area, not seeing her son get off until, finally, he emerged after all the other passengers had disembarked. As a mother of a young boy, she was always uneasy about sending him away alone, but when he didn’t get off immediately upon the arrival at the gate, she couldn’t help herself; her unease becoming worry. Nevertheless, she hugged him warmly as if he had been lost in the middle of the Pacific for a month before finally being discovered. After the second time on a plane to Seattle, though, Micah told her he felt fine traveling and not to worry; he could always take a later plane if he had to.

As she took Micah’s suitcase from him, she noticed that he was carrying two violin cases. She pursed her lips in disapproval at the one extraordinarily beautiful case that her son was carrying. Jake and Robbie were being much too generous, she thought. There was no way she could repay them – for this new case, let alone the expensive lessons and the airfare once a month. A few homemade rolls and desserts to accompany Micah on his way to Seattle were all she could manage. Of course, she didn’t know yet what was in the case.

The 1 1/2 hour drive back to Endicott took far too long for Micah. He wanted to practice with his new violin and to learn its idiosyncracies. He couldn’t wait to get home. He had to open the case a few times during the drive, but it was too dark really to see anything.

Arriving at the farm, Micah rushed in with the two violin cases in his hands, forgetting his suitcase again, and went to the music room where he opened the new case, retrieved his bow and began to play. Betty, emerging from the truck after him, lugged his suitcase from the car, her face showing her disapproval at Micah’s forgetfulness. Her grimace faded when she heard him already practicing. She was always astounded – and pleased – at the intensity of Micah’s devotion to his playing. If only she had been able to maintain the same devotion to music instead of farm and family…

The sound coming from the music room was somehow different, and she knew it was not likely to be a new technique learned from Marcia Vilas, because Micah hadn’t mastered the changes that she had already carefully taught him, and introducing something that changed the tone as much as she was hearing wouldn’t have been taught until the earlier stages were mastered.

Micah was by his music stand, and she noticed he had a very different violin – a beautiful instrument that sounded very different. She listened in enjoyment as Micah finished the movement he had started. “Where did you get the new violin?” she asked.

“Jake and Robbie loaned it to me. It’s very old. It’s a Guarneri. Guarneri was a contemporary of Stradivarius.”

“Micah, that’s way too expensive a violin for a boy of thirteen.“

“That’s what I said, Mom. But they said it was an investment for them, and they would let me use it until they decided to sell it. They said they couldn’t think of anyone better to lend it to.”

Betty knew exactly what Jake and Robbie were doing, and her feelings were ambivalent toward them, as they always were when confronted with their generosity. But she knew Micah did not fully understand the bounty that he had been given. “I guess they know what they’re doing. I know you’ll be careful with it.”

“I’ll be more than careful.”

“And you need to earn the right to have it, you know that.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, it’s time to go to bed.”

Over the next few days, the house became accustomed to the exquisite sound of the Guarneri, even though Micah was still getting used to playing it. Micah, though, was eagerly waiting for some nice weather so he could go to his sanctuary and introduce the new violin to his special place.
Copyright © 2013 rec; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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