Teramar: The Gathering Night

by Thomas Michael Murray

  “Hadrian Capet has the arrogance of a prince,” she thought.

  In music as in any field, there are bitter rivalries and Miss Delay carried a long-standing grudge that old Joseph Gingold had his name on the greatest competition for young violinists, especially when her studio churned out more winners than the man who founded the contest. Since the event occurred once every three years, she had no desire to postpone Hadrian’s introduction to the classical music world. Although the boy had been her student a mere few months, Dorothy knew she was facing the end of her career and that this year’s round might be one of the last opportunities to guide a student through the complex ritual. “What’s more, this boy has an ear that rivals Mozart’s and his bearing carries the discipline of a four star general!”

  Entrance to the competition itself demanded that applicants pass multiple rights of passage. For the first part, Hadrian submitted a certified recording in which he performed the Tchaikovsky violin concerto. The piece was unquestionably the most popular violin concerto in the history of western civilization. Once the school accepted the application, which was a prestigious honor in itself, Hadrian and his teacher debated the next phase - the live performance in Indianapolis. The prince suggested the judges would find it uninspiring to listen to that same music countless times. “Everyone will play the Tchaikovsky.” He pushed for the Barber, the concerto he had heard in Chicago. Dorothy begrudgingly agreed to the risky plan.

  Hadrian’s well-connected teacher also secured a superior violin for her pupil to use on loan. One that was even louder than the prince’s already loud Guarnerius. A Fifth Avenue friend, a collector, who owned the impeccable Ruby Stradivarius, offered the use of the great violin for the competition. To Dorothy’s ear, the instrument was the most full-throated violin she had ever heard. After a week with the Strad, the prince didn’t know if he would be able to part with the violin when the contest was over.

  Of course, this trip to Indianapolis was Hadrian’s last hurrah as an anonymous earth citizen. The prince was aware that the American officials had caught is scent and were in hot pursuit. And as the Uriah fleet closed on earth, Jessica continually urged the prince to turn his attention to the defense of earth. “This music contest is utter distraction. You must announce yourself, sire. Involve the earth people. War preparations will take time – the retrofitting, the training.” She was becoming impatient. “I will do this if you fail to act,” was always her threat.

  As was her way, the computer ran countless forecasts. “We need manpower.” The battle could not be won relying solely on a computer and one human being no matter how capable. At issue was the prince’s cherished anonymity. He had learned to love not being a prince. But for a logical computer, these selfish concerns had to be put aside for the good of all. The situation was close to the tipping point where there might not be enough time to properly provision the planet. “After the contest, Jessica…”

  A Beer On The Balcony

  After the FBI’s visit to his apartment, Shayne was torn on whether he ought to even contact Hadrian. With a small fleet of black cars parked outside the building, they appeared to be watching everything now. The star athlete was at a loss for his next move. Hadrian had not reached out since the whole Derek Mint fiasco. An observant Ben Smith easily noted that his friend continued to carry around a heavy heart, although he was also proud that Shayne learned to park the black cloud outside the arena. But privately, Ben saw that the younger man was truly not himself. When Shayne headed for the garage after a hard practice, Ben tagged along. “Hey man, can I come over? We can watch a movie or have a drink? We haven’t caught up in awhile. I swear I’ll be nice.” Ben had a nervous wiggle in his voice.

  Suspicious of Ben’s motives, Shayne had to be cajoled to accept this invitation for society. The two then drove in awkward silence to U.N. Plaza and finally settled on Shayne’s balcony. The late afternoon sun invited conversation. With a light beer in hand, Ben quickly got to the point and asked, “Where is Hadrian these days? Honestly, I was getting jealous of that guy. I mean he’s white, better looking, richer, and can throw me to the floor in one move!” Shayne wasn’t amused with this opening while Ben’s wise face maintained a solid smile. “Listen, Shayne. I know you don’t want to talk about this. I also know your whole career, your sponsorships - everything would be in trouble if people knew how you really felt and how far this friendship has gone. We’re professional athletes. There’s a bias in the league no matter what anyone says. A lot of the guys have backward views on this sort of thing. Me, I’m a New Yorker. Live and let live.” Ben tried to catch Shayne’s eye. “Maybe this is just a phase for you. Many guys have an experience or two and move on. You know I had a small one at Nebraska.”

  That last sentence caught the other’s attention. The whites of Shayne’s eyes suddenly showed. He encouraged his friend, “Really Ben, you had one? In Lincoln?”

  “I did. And if you tell anyone I’ll deny the story?”

  “Did he play basketball?”

  “Nah, he was just some kid I met my freshman year. They put the basketball team in a dorm with regular students. The boy was a white guy like Hadrian. I’d come home, drunk after a night out, and he would let me fuck him. Eventually, he expected more and became jealous of my women, who were plentiful in those days. I had to cut the kid loose. On hindsight, I was a little rough. He threatened to go public and I pointed out that nobody knew. I never showed any affection. I was only interested in a dick massage.”

  Ben turned quiet – almost bashful. The two took long draughts of the cardboard beer. Intruding on the friendly silence, Shayne said, “I can’t believe you just confessed this to me.”

  “I was hoping you’d trust your old friend.”

  “I do, Ben. I’m going through a mid-life crisis and I am only twenty-three. Although Hadrian and I have known each other only a few months, I can’t seem to shake the memory. I actually miss him more than my dick misses him if you can believe that.”

  Ben took another sip. He shifted his large mass causing the chaise to creak in extreme protest. “Well, Minty’s party was a bad piece of business. First, you ignored him at the party which was not good, but then that asshole Minty made a serious play for your boy.” Ben started to chuckle, “And, that dumb nigger found himself on the floor, missing two games.”

  Shayne couldn’t help but be amused. The two laughed at each other as the sun pushed a persistent cloud aside - almost on queue. “You want another?”

  “Sure.”

  Shayne returned with two more.

  “I haven’t told you the other half.”

  “There’s another half,” asked Ben?

  “Ohhhhhh yeah.” Shayne got up and peered over the balcony, looking down the front of the building. He motioned for Ben to stand up. “Ok, you promise to keep your mouth shut about this? I trust you, Ben. Don’t fuck me.”

  The big man nodded solemn assurance. Shayne turned serious, and took a moment to collect his feelings. Something suddenly occurred to him and he whispered, “Wait. I need to turn on some music.” Shayne reached inside and touched a control panel causing soft hip-hop to spill out onto the balcony. Shayne turned the volume up so the music was quite loud.

  “Dude, your rich neighbors will call the cops again. Remember?”

  Shayne motioned for Ben to stand close. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the larger man’s ear. “I think my apartment is bugged with listening devices. Shhh. Don’t say anything.”

  “You’re nuts. By whom?”

  Shayne put a finger to his full lips and indicated down the front of the building. Again, he whispered near Ben’s ear in a tight diction so his friend understood, “See those black cars down there. Don’t move. Just move your eyes. Those are federal agents.”

  “Ok, I’m really worried,” his friend replied. “Now you’re a conspiracy theorist?”

  “Lean in and shut up,” said Shayne. His eyes flashed with excitement as he recounted the visit by the dark-suited men as
king questions about an alien transmission.

  Ben let lose a long whistle. “Pheeeeeww. You’ve got to be bull shitting me. They said an alien transmission to your house?”

  “Yes. I think those men are looking for our Hadrian. I have the FBI guy’s card to prove they were here.”

  Shayne casually gestured to the scene below. “Those black cars are there everyday. When I leave the building one follows me. They’re not even pretending to be doing something else.”

  “They are following you, searching for Hadrian,” Ben asked incredulously?

  Shayne nodded and leaned close. He continued in a loud whisper, “Have you ever looked closely at that mobile phone Hadrian uses? Think about it. How many people do you know get accepted at Julliard after playing the violin for a few weeks? He’s rich annnnd has freakish martial arts ability. He speaks many languages. Is competitive on court – and with us? Where do you find all of these qualities in one person? One who is younger than I?”

  Ben started to slowly nod his head. Understanding laced through his features. “Yeah, I suppose I never tied it all together. He’s one smooth operator. Makes it look easy. You know I hated him in the beginning… Really, an alien from outer space? That’s crazy talk.”

  “Tell that to them,” Shayne glanced down the front of the building.

  “You seriously think those guys are listening to us?”

  “Do you see that white van?”

  Ben’s eyes were alert. He hung on every word.

  “Men in suits go in and out all day long. And yesterday, a helicopter buzzed by my balcony. Right here,” Shayne gestured to the air space.

  Ben asked, “Where is Hadrian now? Doesn’t he keep some of his stuff here?”

  “I went through the closet looking for clues. There was nothing in any of the pockets. The whole exercise depressed the shit out of me. Everything smells like him.” Shayne was thoughtful. The loud music intruded.

  “You’re afraid Hadrian already knows about the cops.” Ben casually gestured to the observers below.

  Shayne hissed, “Don’t point.”

  “I wasn’t pointing.”

  “I’m afraid that night in Chicago turned something in him. That he came to the conclusion I would never truly come around. Maybe he was right.”

  “I don’t know, Shayne. I see how you are together.”

  The younger man reached for his pocket. “Hold on, my phone keeps vibrating.” Shayne pulled it out. He said to Ben, “It’s the guy at the front desk.” Shayne pushed a button on the wall. The music went low.

  “This is Shayne. Is the music too loud?”

  “Sir, this is Albert. I tried buzzing the intercom.”

  “Is the music too loud?”

  “Sir, nobody has complained. Rather, there is a woman down here who is adamant to come up. She’s been to your apartment on a prior occasion. A Miss Angela. Wait. She’s asking if I can put her on?”

  “Angela”, Shayne thought. He had almost forgotten her. Hadrian had stopped seeing Angela and Shayne was glad of it. Aggravated, the basketball star said, “Ok, put her on.”

  “Hi Shayne. Can I come up?”

  “Why?”

  “Because, you lost something and I know were to find it.” There was a slight pause. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We were.”

  “Until you stole Hadrian from me.”

  Irritation flamed out. This little girl was the last person with whom he wanted to discuss recent events. Before he could hang up, she rushed a heartfelt appeal, “I didn’t mean that. Call me bitter. Shayne, I am here because I know where you can find Hadrian. Let me up and I can explain.”

  Moments later, Angela slipped into the apartment. The light scent of French perfume followed. She was as lovely as usual – a short gabardine skirt with sheer stockings, a starched white riding blouse and a silk scarf.

  “Miss Burberry, how nice to see you.” He showed her to the terrace and then closed the glass door. Ben stood up for the lady.

  “Angela, do you remember Ben Smith?”

  She nodded, acknowledging Ben with a suspicious look, and then turned to Shayne, “What’s with the stakeout in the front?”

  Shayne gave Ben a quick eye that said be quiet. He changed the subject. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

  “I’m ok. Congratulations on a winning season. It’s also nice to see the tabloids have gone on hiatus with regards to you and Hadrian. For a time there, you two were wall-to-wall coverage. I’m sure your sponsorships didn’t appreciate that kind of notoriety.”

  “Yes. Thank you for reminding me.”

  Resentment crossed pretty features. “You took him from me, Shayne.” The anger was clearly there.

  “I didn’t take anything. Or, try to take anything.” Flustered, he didn’t know how to talk to this girl. To some degree, she was speaking the truth, although Shayne obviously had difficulty admitting that. Deep down, he knew he sought to charm Hadrian from the first moment they met.

  Ben cleared his throat. The gesture reminded the two young people he was still sitting there – waiting, watching. Shayne quietly asked, “So, you say I lost something?”

  “Yeah, you did. You might not be front page news these days, but I saw this buried on Page Six.” Angela pulled the newspaper out of her carry bag. “Read where I circled.” She handed it to him:

  “Shayne and Haddie rumored split? While the big boy goes off to the playoffs, his sidekick competes at a snooty music competition. Haddie has sailed through preliminaries and is set for the big stage on Friday night. (An image of Hadrian playing the violin appeared next to the story.) Once a regular fixture at Thirty Third Street, we haven’t seen Haddie courtside for weeks. Will our city’s craziest bachelors finally patch things up? To be continued…”

  Shayne shook his head in disbelief. He hated that particular tabloid. “How does a reporter find this stuff? About this contest?”

  Yawning, Ben said, “Even I know an Internet search would do it. Hadrian has a unique name. Anything about him on the web would bubble up.”

  Angela added, “The newspaper’s been running little bits and pieces on you two since the Derek Mint debacle. You don’t get the full-page coverage you used to. Rather, they place these tasty morsels right in the middle of the gossip section. That’s how we all know you are on the outs.” She smiled sweetly to rub it in. The dark lipstick gave Angela a tough look in her finery.

  She suggested, “Why don’t we fly out there and root him on? The competition is in Indianapolis. You guys aren’t playing again for a few days. Hadrian takes the stage tomorrow night.”

  Shayne thought quietly, “The problem is anywhere we go, the FBI will follow. More likely, they’ll already be at the competition.” On the other hand, the opportunity could not be ignored. Shayne realized this one night might be the only chance to see Hadrian Capet in the flesh. He turned to Ben and asked, “If I go, you’re coming, right?” Shaken from his reverie, Ben Smith abruptly sat up. Eyes sprang wide. Shayne was appalled.

  “You’re dosing off!”

  Embarrassed, Ben said, “Yes. I mean no. I mean yes. I’d love to see Hadrian go all music camp in Indiana. God-help if the New York press catches us hanging around.”

  Shayne countered, “At this point, who cares? What could be worse than any of the prior stories?”

  “That’s a brave boy,” Angela encouraged.

  “Angie, you’re going too?” Shayne angrily shot a glance at his friend that said, “She’s not.”

  The young woman curtly interjected, “Oh, come on, Shayne. I just told you where he would be.”

  “Angela, in my mind, we want the same thing.” The honesty rolled right out of Shayne’s mouth before he could stop it.

  “I’m pretty sure we don’t want the same thing. You want to fuck him in the ass. She was defiant. A gust of wind echoed the sentiment. This was the first time someone said it so bluntly. Shayne looked away. “Guilty as charged.”

  Angela
saw the struggle. Her expression softened. Ben gave his friend an encouraging nod that said, “Come on.” Shayne’s eyes went back and forth to each of them. With genuine remorse in his voice, he quietly said, “I’m sorry, Angela. I haven’t been myself lately and have been uncharitable to a lot of people. Of course, you can go.” Silence descended on the trio. Nothing else needed to be said. Shayne had made the decision, and was ready to let the chips fall where they may. Worried about the eavesdroppers, he added in a whisper, “We don’t have much time to make the necessary arrangements. I need to call my business manager.” With that, he stood up, unfolding the long body. “I’ll be back in a minute. Let’s not discuss this any further.”

  With Shayne gone, the other two quietly circled the other. Old Ben saw an attractive woman siting there. Angela tried to ignore the giant. Ben automatically cataloged the unreasonable traits of an uppity eastside woman. He playfully said, “Girl, what are you all worked up about?”

  Dark eyes hid behind her bangs. She cast furtive glances over at the reclining man. Ben smiled broadly at her. “Those are very big teeth, Ben Smith.”

  “Yes they are. There’s a big tongue in there as well.” He wagged the large red muscle and patted a spot next to him on the bench. “Or rather, why don’t we pour ourselves a cool glass of white wine?” Without waiting for a response, Ben strolled toward the kitchen. Angela followed. Against her better judgment, she started to feel a little of the old swing come back to her hips. Although Ben was freakishly tall, his kind, even handsome face had always made an impression on her.