Duet: Death's Recital

by Lizzie Vega

  “They’re always together, that shouldn’t be difficult.”

  Edward pulled out his laptop, “She disappeared in 2004. I’ll find as much info I can on the case.”

  “She was never found and now she haunts the school,” Kelli said, “It’s pretty obvious that she is still here.”

  “If we find her, her body I mean, that will bring some type of closure, right?”

  “The school is going to freak out if we start literally digging all over the place.”

  “Stop, please,” Mikayla took a deep breath, “Let’s, at least, get as many facts as possible before we go running off publicly about this. If we look like idiots, it doesn’t matter what we say we’ve discovered. No one benefits from that.”

  “Closure,” Alvin repeated, “Closure for whom?”

  “Sara,” Mikayla said without wavering, “Living or just being, I guess without a purpose? I just think that’s wrong. If Sara is damaged and it’s something we can fix? I think we should do it.”

  Kelli’s voice was a soft as they had ever heard, “Mikayla,” she asked, “If we figure out a way for Sara to move on? What will become of Ethan?”

  “Another idea?” Alvin offered, “Not that I like it but it’s something we should consider under the circumstances.” He ran his hand through his hair, “Can’t believe I’m actually going to say this…”

  “Walk away from it?” Edward said quietly, “Just leave them be for Ethan’s sake? I can’t help thinking that she chose him for a reason and we’ve just stumbled across it.”

  Alvin nodded, “We watch, help where we can or probably just wish them well and find something else to do.”

  “We’ve had this conversation before,” Mikayla held up her wrist, “Then Bad Sara hurts someone or worse…wants company for eternity? We’d share in the responsibility of that. No way.”

  Edward shook his head, “Sara wouldn’t stand for it…in her own way I guess, but she was definitely clear that she wouldn’t like it. Not that she grasps the negative of it.”

  “I agree,” Mikayla said, “We dig into the case, research the shit out of the school, who and when and maybe how?”

  Alvin seemed relieved, “And not be so gentle with Sara, the good one I mean. Study Bad Sara if we can figure out a way to track her down.”

  Mikayla sighed, “Our Sara can be seen and heard by people now. This is coming to a head if they are both gaining power in the real world. She clearly loves Ethan without a doubt. I just have to keep focused on that.”

  “What if she was murdered?” Edward blurted out.

  “Ed, for God’s sake. That’s terrible,” Kelli hissed, tilting her head at Mikayla “Knock it off. We’re already pretty emotional here.”

  “And she suffered before she died,” Mikayla added along with a fresh set of tears, “That would explain the feelings from the bad one. Trauma, abandonment, there’s a bunch of negative possibilities.”

  “You guys are awful,” Kelli glowered, “It makes me want to go get drunk and forget about this.”

  Alvin leaned forward, “Let’s pass on that for now, I think. I’ve been doing some reading and part of the issue is where the bulk of the activity takes place. We have the Music Building and the Annex.”

  “Burgum Hall for sure and the old concert hall. Bad Sara, I mean if we assume she’s responsible for all of the creepy things, she stays in that part of campus.

  “She was at the Union, too.” Mikayla added, “I do have a bruise on my back from where she hit me.”

  “Where can we get four sets of hockey gear? That might help.” Edward looked at the silent table, “Or not. But a little protection wouldn’t be a dumb idea.”

  “We stake out Burgum with our field detectors,” Alvin offered, “We don’t chase her but just see what we can?”

  “And if she goes after you?” Edward said quietly.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he answered back, “Mik got pushed. Kelli got grabbed but Bad Sara didn’t stick around because there were people around. We stick together for safety, even if we can’t cover as much area with our instruments.”

  “Safety in numbers,” Kelli said, “I’d be okay with that. She ditched the minute Mikayla showed up in the stairwell.”

  “I could set up a bunch of remote detectors where other people can’t see them. We just need to be able to move around once things get going.”

  Edward shrugged, “I guess having a conversation with Bad Sara is out of the question.” He looked around at the silent table, “Okay good.”

  Chapter 29

  Mikayla glanced at the clock as she slid into her seat next to Kelli, “Made it,” she said, expecting a comeback. Kelli raised an eyebrow at her, “Weird vibe in here today,” she whispered, “I think he’s in a mood.”

  “How can you tell?” she asked looking around the room. She couldn’t discern anything out of the ordinary. Most of the students were having pre-class conversations or reading quietly.

  “Wait for it,” Kelli murmured, then pointed to the white board next to Evenson’s desk. Usually the source of the classes’ next assignments, it was blank except for a single word, “Why?”

  Mikayla mentally reviewed some of her recent conversations with him in her head, “Oh dear.”

  A quiet chime in the hallway signaled the beginning of class and all Evenson did was to look around the room. As he began to stand from his desk, a student appeared in the doorway and quickly vaulted up the steps of the room only to be singled out by the instructor. “Mister Anderson,” he drawled out, then grinned, “I’ve been waiting all semester to say that. Nice of you to join us.”

  The young man spun and began to sit in the closest chair he could find, when the professor stopped him.

  “Join me, if you will,” he pointed at two stools set in the center of the room. The student froze and he repeated his request, “No, seriously. I was going to choose the last person to come in today and you’re it. It’s so not what you think.” He put his hands on his hips and grinned, “You’re not in trouble and, bonus points, I’m not gonna be a jerk.”

  Kelli put her hand over her mouth, “He’ll never be late again.” Mikayla rolled her eyes, feeling lucky that she hadn’t been singled out.

  Dr. Evenson directed him to the first stool, then sat casually beside him. “I’ve been wondering about some things lately, so I’d like to have a class discussion.” He turned to his petrified student, “Why do you play music?” He held up his hand, “before you answer, before anyone answers, I want you to know that this will be a private conversation that doesn’t leave this room. I’ve been thinking about my music career and it’s started to bug me. I’m curious, if it bugs you?”

  There was some apprehensive shifting in the classroom. Several students began looking nervously everywhere but towards the front of the class. The student in the spotlight took a deep breath and smiled, “I love music.” His voice was so soft, Evenson grinned then asked him to repeat himself. “Perfect,” he chuckled, “and said at the exact volume I expected.”

  He looked at the red-faced student and shocked the classroom by apologizing, “Sorry. It’ll make more sense in a minute. What was your first instrument you played?”

  The young man cleared his throat, “Trombone.”

  Evenson smiled, “And you loved it so much, right?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head, “I hated it. It was awful.” Several students laughed along with him.

  “Exactly,” the instructor chortled, “How long did you hate it for and who chose it for you.”

  The young man grinned, now clearly enjoying himself, “My older brother played it, so it was assumed I would. He held up his fingers, “Three years before I switched over to the trumpet.” Several students nodded recalling similar experiences.

  “Right?” the professor agreed, “Every band teacher’s nightmare is a band with twenty-seven saxophones cuz they’re cool.” A smattering of applause from the brass players accompanied his comment. “Nob
ody actually wants to play the tuba, let alone haul the damn thing around.” He pointed to a student in the front row, “A thirty-pound clarinet? I think not.” He turned to his captive student, “Back to your seat, your performance was excellent. Thank you.” Kelli tapped Mikayla lightly on the arm, “That’s where he’s going with this.”

  Several questions flew back and forth as the class discussed how some of them grew to love playing. “We are, for the most part, becoming master musicians. Most of us,” his eyes darted up into the back row at Ethan, “have to grind through the first few years until it clicks, but why do you play? Why do you slave in class playing the same passages over and over until your fingers bleed and your brains go into meltdown?

  He stopped talking and looked around the room, “And why, did it suddenly get so quiet in here?”

  He walked quietly behind his desk and picked up an acoustic guitar. Returning to the center of the classroom he sat down and strummed a chord, “Why did I learn to play?” he asked, strumming another chord dramatically, “One reason only. Chicks.” A couple of students laughed; others tried not to. “It was the nineties, give me a break. I wanted to be the cool guitar player.” He waited for a moment to let the comment simmer, “I wanted…to be accepted.”

  There were audible gasps in the room, then a number of long sighs. Seemed he’d nailed a common theme.

  “We’re a weird bunch, aren’t we?” he asked quietly, “Now let me finally get to my point. If you’re anything like me, yeah, creepy, I know. Musicians as a group and artists in general, express themselves through a performance. To stand up in front of an audience and pour out your feelings can be both exhilarating and,” he paused, looking around the room. He held up his finger and gently pointed to the class.

  “Terrifying,” a quiet voice came from somewhere in the middle of the room.

  “Thank you,” Evenson said, in response. “Very much so. Your assignment for the next class is to re-visit your experiences with stage fright. Whether performing something new and your confidence is low or performing solo and you’re scared shitless. Write it down. Prefer if you type it out so I can read it and so it stays anonymous.”

  Kelli hesitantly raised her hand, “How long does it have to be?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he answered back quickly, “just has to be true. If it was a bad experience, I want to know, once your performance was over, how long it took you to stop shaking.”

  Mikayla turned and looked at Kelli, who was busy chewing on her lip. She looked back at Amanda whose eyes were fixed on the instructor. It seemed that he’d hit a nerve. Mikayla’s movement caught her eye and she frowned, saying something under her breath.

  “Hand it in on Friday and I’ll sort through them over the weekend. Musicians rank high in the top ten professions for depression and I’d like to take your real-life experiences to see if we can’t get better at dealing with those pesky pre-concert butterflies. Have some fun with it but be honest too. Class dismissed.”

  Chapter 30

  “What’s with you today, Mik? You’re antsy as hell. You musta slept in the whole weekend.”

  “Sorry, I, uh, I’m looking forward to class. I’ve been wondering what everyone wrote about.”

  Kelli thought for a moment, “The stage fright thing? Oh yeah. Mine was lame but I’m probably not going to be as much of a performer as you will. I think practice and not taking myself too seriously is about the best way to handle it for me.” She made a point to look down at Mikayla’s foot tapping furiously against her violin case, “How about yours?”

  “Being a singer would terrify me, but it’s what I obsess about the most. I can play a well-tuned instrument and once the first few measures are over; I usually start to relax.”

  “It’s the build-up, then?” Kelli asked with a quick glance to the time.

  “Oh yeah,” Mikayla sighed, “I’ve spent hours and hours trying to come to grips with it. In the band or an ensemble, you have protection from the musicians around you. Being a soloist…Jesus, it’s scary.”

  Kelli pointed to the violin case, “What’s going on here?”

  “An experiment. I’m gonna provoke myself a little. The professor wants me to play something. We talked about it.” She held up her right hand, flexing it, “I need all the practice I can get to get back into the swing of things.”

  “Is this why he had you stay after class?” Kelli questioned, looking relieved, “I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t pick me. What are you going to play?”

  Mikayla didn’t answer immediately. She looked up at Kelli, “I think he reads you differently than you think. Kelli has the chops, he said early on in the semester.”

  “Really,” Kelli reacted, laughing at the revelation, “Boy, do I have him snowed.”

  Mikayla shared the chuckle and Kelli realized how calm her friend was, “You’re not nervous in the least are you?”

  “Only a little,” she admitted, “I’m more nervous for the other two he asked,” she raised an eyebrow, “so I’m distracting myself with that.”

  Kelli’s eyes flared, “Not Ethan. Oh dear, that...might not be-“

  “Nope,” Mikayla said, easing Kelli’s fears, “I wonder though. Doesn’t he seem way more relaxed lately?”

  Kelli bit her lip, “Wingman is choosing words carefully now… yes he has reason to. I’ll leave it at that. What are you going to play?”

  Mikayla cocked an eyebrow, “Time to go.”

  Dr Evenson patiently waited until his students had settled into their seats. Walking to the center of the classroom, he held a bundle of papers in his hand.

  “We have several consistent themes running through these, so I’ve done some minor editing and made them available via email.” He held up his hand, “Still anonymous, of course.” He landed on his chair, “As you may remember, I asked a few of you to stay after class last time and then reached out to a couple others via email. If they feel so inclined, they may perform for you today.” Again, he held up his hand, “If they choose to.” He waited for a moment, “So, who’s nervous?”

  Looking around the room, he smiled as he counted eight raised hands, “Interesting. Thank you for being honest cuz I only asked four of you.” He looked at Ashley, “You’re not playing, what gives?”

  Perhaps because of her association with Amanda, Ashley rarely acknowledged her own feelings, comfortable to orbit on the edges of the clique, but she surprised the class by pointing to the end of her row, “I’m nervous for Mia.” She turned to the young woman in the last seat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, “I want her to do well.”

  Several students nodded and the teacher found himself stuck for words. “Didn’t see that coming, but…that’s cool…that’s very helpful.” He looked at Mia, “Wanna go first?”

  “I’ll go first,” a deep voice said from the back of the room. For a moment both Mikayla and Kelli thought it was Ethan but when they turned to confirm, it was a second-year student sitting across the aisle from him.

  “I can go first,” he repeated softly to the class, before glancing nervously at Mia, “Just to break the ice.” He picked up his trumpet and stood. Halfway down the aisle he smiled at her again. Kelli grabbed Mikayla’s arm, “Did you see that?” she whispered, “That was so cute.”

  Mikayla frowned, having missed the subtle interaction. Kelli leaned in to whisper, “Watch her, it’s frikin’ adorable.”

  “So, Michael, what are gonna play for us?” Evenson asked, “Brandenburg maybe? Second Concerto? I just happen to have a copy for you.” There was a gasp from the brass players in the classroom.

  The usually demonstrative trumpet player’s face went white, “Um…no, I I um…”

  Evenson interrupted him, “Where did you feel it first? Heart, stomach, what? I’m just kidding by the way. But I got you, didn’t I?”

  After a deep breath, Michael’s color began to return. Evenson had mentioned one of the most difficult trumpet pieces in the world. “Wow, jeez.” He
tapped his chest, “heart just took off running.” He let out a long breath, nervously working the valves on his trumpet, “Then, well…lower.”

  The instructor hid a chuckle behind his hand, “I get that,” he grinned awkwardly, then gestured to the center of the room, “Whenever you’re ready.”

  After a brief warble through the mouthpiece and what looked to be a superstitious blow through for the spit valve, he took a single deep breath and began to play.

  Known for being boisterous and a regular contributor to the class, most of them thought his choice of music would be comparable to his personality. From the first soft and solemn note, he had the class in the palm of his hand. Instead of a loud and assertive sound, the first measure of the Schubert classic, Ave Maria gently wove its way around the room.

  First surprise, then appreciation as the quiet, tone perfect notes continued until he drew out the last measure, his hand hovering on the instrument’s valves to produce a beautiful waiver. As he finished, the room was silent. Kelli tapped Mikayla on the arm, directing her to look at Mia across the aisle.

  “Well,” Evenson said quietly as he brought his hands up to begin a warm round of applause, “Didn’t expect that from the Pep Band captain.” he nodded to Michael, “Well done, sir.” He turned to the class, “Can you imagine that at half-time? Yeah, probably not.” Laughter from the students seemed to help disperse some of the emotion in the room.

  He looked at the young freshman, “Ready Mia?”

  With a smile more like a grimace, she stood up slowly. Kelli winced as the next performer took a ragged breath, “Uh-oh,” she said quietly as some of the upper classmen began to shift nervously in their chairs as she walked down the tiered classroom steps.

  No instrument in her hands, it was clear she would sing. Approaching the professor, he tilted his head, asking the obvious, “A little nervous?”

  She cleared her throat, then he made it worse, “Especially having to follow that,” he chirped, then looked back to the class. He wasn’t disappointed as several students groaned sympathetically.