“Yes…of course. Thank her for me.”
Annie carried the precious instrument back to her room as though it were a delicate egg. After tuning it and getting the feel of the bow, she lost herself in the sheer delight of making music. With deft fingers, Annie coaxed the old violin to speak—in an exquisite language only a stringed instrument of such delicate construction could know. A joy welled up in her that threatened to burst through the fragile confines of her mortal body. Even she recognized that she’d never played so well.
After the evening meal had been eaten and the remnants cleared away, the Draehl family and Annie fetched their instruments and went out to the clearing. The sun melted into the far horizon, a bright orange-red staining its nest of clouds. Each tuned his or her instrument and then, with a light tap from Craddohk on a nearby bench, released his or her individual notes and chords into the night. “Straight up to infinity,” Haelee had described it to her solemnly, “straight up to the ears of the Infinite One.”
For over an hour they wove their tapestry of exquisite sounds. No one had a sheet of music to follow; no one needed any. Their notes blended and harmonized as though they’d been rehearsing together for months. Annie didn’t analyze it. She just accepted it. She played her violin and made it sing.
And then it was time. At another signal from Craddohk, they put down their instruments and joined hands. The moons were rising. As though choreographed by the Great Composer, Himself, three ghostly spheres drifted up from behind the dark silhouette of nearby islands. Blue, delicate rose, and leaf-green, they reflected the sun’s light and bestowed upon the land a prismatic blessing. It was so bright, that Annie could see the expressions on those around her.
“Oh,” Annie sighed in rapture. “Ohhh…”
They lifted their arms in unison and Aeldorah sang in the Ahrmoiran native tongue. Although she couldn’t understand a word, Annie comprehended the meaning. It was a song of love and praise to their Creator, and the woman had a voice so pure and sweet that it brought tears to Annie’s eyes.
All too soon the hahlmahnahtah was over. It was past Adorie’s bedtime and, once again, the little girl had fallen asleep. She was curled in a fetal position, her left thumb in her mouth. With a soft chuckle, Craddohk lifted his youngest from the grass and carried her into the house. Aeldorah, the twins, and Annie followed.
This time, Annie had maintained a tenuous hold on her composure. It had been an extremely moving event, but she’d handled it well. Almost like an Ahrmoiran, she thought with satisfaction.
Later that night, Annie lay in bed and stared in breathless wonder at the narrow streams of colored light seeping through the shutters at her circular window. Like the refracted light dispelled from a prism, the bands of color painted a diffused rainbow across the walls. It reminded Annie of the Christmas lights her dad always strung on their house. Those lights, too, would show through her curtains and light up her bedroom…in Atlanta…her home.
Home.
3312 Sweet Springs Court.
Atlanta, Georgia.
The United States.
North America.
Earth.
Soon she would be returning to that “blue marble” she called home. The trouble was—did she want to go?
I don’t want to go back to earth. Her mind shouted. I don’t want to. I want to stay here. Here I’m happy. Here I’m loved. I want to live with the Draehls for the rest of my life.
Annie cried herself to sleep.
EIGHTEEN
The next day Craddohk had another surprise for Annie.
“I spoke with my friend at the university, and she has time to meet you this afternoon. We will go in the hoverlight and have our mid-day meal at the university, then meet with my friend and others. Everyone is very eager to talk with you. How does this sound to you, Little One?”
At first Annie was hesitant. Meeting a lot of new people didn’t appeal to her. It never had on Earth, either, but this was even worse. Craddohk saw the look of uneasiness play across her face and tried to assuage her fear.
“This alarms you, Annie?” he asked, his brown eyes narrowed with concern.
Annie swallowed and lowered her head. “Yeah, kind of. I’m sorry, it’s just that, well…will they like someone from Earth? I mean, well, I look different and am not very articulate. I mean, I have a great vocabulary and am a pretty good writer, but…Oh. I don’t know what I mean, except, maybe they’re expecting someone with more style and…”
“Nonsense, Little One. They will love you as we love you. You are special, Annie. And remember. We have been dealing with your world for over three thousand of your Earth years. People from Earth are not that strange to us. You will like Khari Thehl. She teaches at the university and is the one who loaned you the Stradivarius. You must bring it along so she can hear you play.”
Annie looked at him and then at Aeldorah. She trusted these people and knew they truly loved her and only wished her well. With a shrug she gave in. “Okay. I’ll go. You’re all coming, too, right?”
“Yes. The entire family will make a day of it. It will be another memorable experience…for everyone.”
They made their departure soon after breakfast. Aeldorah wore a long, white dress with a myriad of tiny flowers embroidered on the sleeves, the bodice, and the hem. Haelee put on a lime green dress that reached her ankles. Over it was a pinafore made from a fabric so diaphanous that it reminded Annie of a spider’s web.
Aeldorah had made a dress for Annie out of a gauzy material the color of a robin’s egg. It, too, had tiny embroidered flowers scattered over the entire dress. It was gorgeous and Annie had hugged it to her in ecstasy when the woman first gave it to her.
“You made this for me? When? It had to have taken you hours.”
Aeldorah had only smiled.
Craddohk and Halig both wore tunic-style shirts of a coarse fabric over narrow pants that just touched the tops of their shoes. Little Adorie was dressed in a one-piece garment that had colorful buttons and patch pockets. She looked good enough to eat, and Annie told her so.
“You want to eat me?” the child piped in a shrill voice. “My father will not let you.”
The others had laughed—Halig, slapping his knee and roaring—and the child was somewhat mollified. Her father explained that it had been a joke and was not to be taken seriously. Part of his explanation had to be in her own language, as the little girl was slow to comprehend the humor in it.
The ride to Ter Chyfahrwyhd was not long enough, as far as Annie was concerned. She loved riding in the low-flying vehicle; loved how it skimmed along, kissing the waves below. At times they cruised only inches from the rolling sea. Other times they flew high enough to see the spectacular panorama of the land and sea around them.
Craddohk settled in a large area, reserved specifically for hoverlights, and the family piled out with much laughter and pushing on Halig’s part. The university buildings were situated on a low rise a short distance away. Made from the colored sand, fhah, they glowed a soft, pastel yellow and salmon-orange in the late morning sun.
As universities go, this one wasn’t large—or, so it seemed to Annie, who remembered visiting the sprawling campuses of the University of Georgia and Georgia Tech back home. In actuality, the low buildings laid out in front of her were quite insignificant.
“This is a university? It’s not very big, is it?” Annie remarked as they approached a wide, double door.
Craddohk smiled. “No, I suppose it is not. But you must remember that we learn differently than you on Earth are wont to do.”
Annie’s face lit up. “Oh, yeah. I remember, now. You put on some kind of electrical helmet and get impulses or something, right?”
Halig snorted but his father’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him before he could make a derisive comment. “That is correct. However, we still need teachers to direct the process and to give lectures and instruction for further clarification. One cannot simply ‘put on a hat’ and learn.”
“Sweet.” Annie grinned. “Sure wish your friends could make math easier for me.”
Arm in arm, they entered the wide doors of the prestigious establishment. They critiqued the various artworks on display in the immense atrium and studied the intricately framed portraits of past professors as they waited to be met by Khari Thehl.
Annie noticed her first—a beautiful woman with long, straight hair, colored a dark navy blue. She was tall and slender and had a complexion the color of rich mocha. When she saw Annie, she smiled and waved.
“Craddohk. Aeldorah. You are here.” She walked over to Annie and reached out a hand. “Hello. You must be Annie-From-Earth. I am so happy to meet you, Annie. My name is Khari—Khari Thehl.”
Annie shook her hand and dipped her head. “Th-thank you for loaning me your treasure. I love playing it. The tone is wonderful.”
“You are most welcome, Annie. I sincerely hope you will play a song for me before you leave. I see you have brought it with you.”
“Yes, I have. Craddohk suggested I bring it along.”
“That will be a delight I will look forward to. Now, there are several people who would like to meet you, Annie. Shall we?”
Annie followed Khari and the Draehls down a long hallway that led into another room of immense proportions. The wall facing the sea was made up of more than a dozen round windows of varying dimensions. To Annie, they looked like soap bubbles floating in the air. Tables lined another wall and were laden with plates heaped with savory finger foods. True to Khari’s words, several people were either standing or sitting, talking in low, melodic voices, waiting expectantly for their novel guest. Their conversation ceased when the group entered the spacious room.
A tall, very handsome man, somewhere in his thirties, strode over to them and smiled broadly. “Craddohk. Hah mhytohk…” He stopped and shook his head in embarrassment. “Forgive me. Only in Earth-English, yes? So. It is good to see you safely back from your mission. How did it go? I hear you brought back more than you bargained for.” He glanced down at Annie and winked.
Craddohk bowed slightly and returned his smile. “Indeed. This is Annie. She will be staying with us for a short time, allowing the Academy physicians time to study her condition. She is a very bright and talented musician. You two have a lot in common. She plays the violin like an angel.” He reached for Annie’s hand and drew her closer. “Annie, I would like you to meet a dear friend of mine, Ahrn Klih. He is a physicist here at the university and a wicked chee player.”
Annie met Ahrn’s grin with one of her own. “You play the violin? I didn’t think your people had violins—except, that is, what you’d gotten from Earth.”
Ahrn chuckled. “Violins are not indigenous, it is true, but when I heard the violin played—Craddohk invited me to accompany him to Earth several years ago—I fell in love with its music. I had one made here on Ahrmoira, and it is exquisite, if I do say so myself. Perhaps we could play a duet?”
“Well…we could try. I’m pretty rusty.”
Craddohk tousled her hair and frowned, his brown eyes reproving. “Annie…remember what we said about the Infinite One? You must see yourself through His eyes.”
Annie swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. Tears threatened to spill over, making her blink. Jeez, what’s the matter with me? I get a compliment and fall to pieces. She glanced at Haelee and made a face. Haelee took her arm and pulled her in the direction of an elderly gentleman who sat in a comfortable chair in front of a large round window, overlooking the sea.
The grizzled man looked at the two girls with pale green eyes brimming with kindness. Haelee made the introductions and he extended both purple veined hands.
“Welcome…Earther. When I heard that Craddohk Draehl had returned with you in tow, I was ecstatic. I so wanted to meet you.”
Professor Gnahndloch Cian was soft-spoken, hardly speaking loud enough for her to hear. Annie stepped closer and took his large, gnarly hand in hers. “Hello, Professor Cian.”
“And so. You are enjoying your time with us on Ahrmoira? It is to your liking?”
“Yes, sir. I love it here. I wish I could stay forever.”
The old man leaned forward and peered at her. “Ah…I see…I see. You are having a difficult time at home?”
A little taken aback, Annie bit her lower lip. “Oh, well…”
“What is it that gives you such torpid thoughts, my dear? Allows you to contemplate leaving all that you know—all that makes you, you?”
Annie blinked back the still-present tears. “Well…I…uh…”
“Yes? Go on.”
“Well…it’s nothing, really. I mean…I’m sort of a misfit back home. Not a dipstick or anything, but so not cool. I used to get sick over the littlest things, and once I even threw up all over my desk at school. Totally janky.”
“Janky?”
“Yes. I’m a loner—except for my best friend, Jenny.”
“I see. But if you have this ‘best friend’ as you say, then why the upset stomach?”
“Well…home isn’t exactly heaven. My parents…well, let’s just say they don’t quite get along and…” she lowered her eyes and traced a crack in the floor with one toe.
“And?”
“And, well, they hate me. Simple as that. I was an after-thought—came when they least expected it. Why my mother didn’t have an abortion, I’ll never know. She sure didn’t want me. Not then, not now. Like I said. They hate me.”
He shook his head—not blue but startling white like her grandfather’s back on Earth—and pursed his lips. “No, child…they do not hate you. They are merely lacking in true harmony. Their pitch, timbre—intonation, if you will—is in opposition. This blending of one’s inner music takes work and perseverance. This is their problem—not you.”
“But, how…”
He smiled. “I have studied your world for many, many years, my dear. It is what I do. And the offspring of such study is this knowledge. Your world lacks harmony. Your world lacks music and rhythm. If you could but learn this one essential thing, your world would find peace. Turn toward the Great Conductor—the Great Composer, Himself—and the music will reach counterpoint.”
“Oh…I never looked at it that way. My music, I mean…”
“You should look at everything with your inner ear.”
“My inner ear? I’ve heard of an inner eye, but…”
“Yes. Your inner ear, your inner voice, as well as your inner eye, of course. Use your gift, my dear Earther. You must give your gift free rein; allow it to lead you ever onward, upward. Do not fret and look always behind you. It is up to you to create harmony in your world. Do not expect those around you to create the harmony for you. The smallest of children are wont to do that. You, however, are on the threshold of adulthood. You must be the composer and conductor of your own symphony—even if that symphony is not exactly what you had envisioned. It is up to you and you alone to create your inner music. Every nuance—every note and measure—belongs to you. And then? And then life follows camminando—gently, easily. You see what I am saying?”
Annie nodded. “I…I think so.”
The old man smiled and gave her shoulder several light pats. “Good girl. You go now and see and hear and savor all that you can while you are with us. Animato. Yes?”
“Yes.”
For the next hour, they ate and visited. Annie was introduced to several professors and friends of the Draehls. Each of them greeted her warmly and plied her with questions about Earth. Annie took to one woman in particular. Her name was Grihndolyn Cian, daughter of the aged professor. She taught art at the university, and she and Annie talked about painting and sculpting.
“My mother teaches sculpture at one of our colleges in Atlanta,” Annie told her, not letting her eyes leave the woman’s face for fear of boring her.
“Wonderful. Do you also sculpt?” Grihndolyn asked.
That pulled Annie’s eyes away. “No. I can’t draw or paint or do anyth
ing with clay,” She made a face. “I just play the violin.”
“Just play the violin. My darling girl. That is quite an accomplishment. You must be proud of this talent.”
Annie’s eyes once again met the woman’s kind gaze. “That’s the message I’ve been getting since I arrived,” A sigh escaped. “So, I guess it must be true.”
“Yes, it is true. You are what you believe you are.”
“Yeah.”
“Will you play for us now?”
For a minute, Annie felt trapped. “Now? Here? In front of all these people?”
“Yes.” Grihndolyn laughed and clasped her hands together, the steepled fingers touching her lips. “I would very much like to hear you play.” She sought out Khari Thehl and motioned for her to come over. When the younger woman was close enough, she said, “Khari, I think this would be a good time for Annie to play for us. Do you not agree?”
Khari beamed and whirled around, clapping her hands for everybody’s attention. “Please. Everyone, listen. Our Annie has consented to play the violin for us.”
There was a murmur of excited voices and everybody scrambled for chairs. Annie spied the Draehls and felt her waning confidence swell. Craddohk raised a hand and grinned—little Adorie perched on his lap. Haelee and Aeldorah sat on the edge of their seats with hands folded in their laps. Halig leaned back in his chair with arms crossed and looked smug. To Annie, he was the epitome of a proud parent about to share a favorite child’s talent with the world. That made her grin and the apprehension melted.
With one more glance at Craddohk, Annie freed the Stradivarius from its protective covering with trembling hands, tuned it, and then stood in the center of the room. She closed her eyes. In her mind, she listened to birds warbling, brooks purling, oceans yawning, and winds sighing. Then she drew the bow across the strings and made the violin speak. She wanted the others to hear what she’d heard.
Misty, nebulous notes filled the room. They curled and eddied; they lunged and leaped. Annie played until she was oblivious of her surroundings—no longer aware of those sitting in rapt attention, enchanted by the strange girl working this unexpected magic.
Centauri Serenade Page 11
