Gifts of the Peramangk

by Dean Mayes

  With Khalili guiding them though the foyer, Ruby took Virginia’s hand and squeezed it gently as they headed through a pair of large doors. Ruby was awestruck by the cavernous auditorium they had entered into. High above her head, the cream ceiling of the concert auditorium was lit by three huge chandeliers that hung from ornate ceiling roses. On either side of the auditorium stood huge, marbled columns that flanked high arches bathed in warm light. The stage before her was larger than Elder Hall’s and, like the hall, the centrepiece of this stage was yet another massive pipe organ that towered above her. An orchestra was setting themselves up on the stage and familiar sounds of tuning instruments filtered through the auditorium. Upon closer inspection, Ruby recognised the four musicians of the string quartet positioned in front of the modified chamber orchestra.

  Ruby turned to Khalili, her eyes wide.

  “Are they for us?”

  Khalili smiled and nodded.

  “They are indeed, Ruby. They will play L’Chaim with you and our Mendelssohn duet—as well as that…other composition.”

  Ruby grinned mischievously, in spite of herself, once more.

  “Don’t worry…besides, I might not get to play it yet.”

  Khalili met her with a disapproving glower.

  “Ruby. Don’t you be so quick to sabotage yourself. Remember just how formidable you are.”

  The seating around Ruby was both ornate and luxurious. Over 1,100 people could be accommodated here and, already, it appeared a capacity crowd was guaranteed. All around her, people, officials and families and children and musicians moved to and fro—many of whom seemed to know one another and were chatting in groups while Ruby’s coterie made their way through the throng.

  Virginia was equally impressed by their surroundings and perhaps a little daunted, although she didn’t show it to Ruby.

  “Would you look at this carpet,” Virginia marvelled. “You could sink up to your knees in it.”

  Ruby managed a nervous smile at her grandmother as Khalili led them toward the front of the stage where, off to the side a registration table stood along with a group of official looking people.

  Belle nudged Virginia discreetly.

  “Mum, we might go and find a seat. Looks like they’ve got some reserved for us over behind.”

  Virginia nodded as Belle, Cherie, Jeremy and Asher crowded around Ruby and gave her encouraging hugs and kisses.

  “Good luck, kiddo,” Jeremy said warmly. “Give us your best, hey?”

  Jeremy and Asher planted kisses on Ruby’s cheeks and stood back. Ruby noticed Asher’s eyes welling.

  “We’re so proud, Rube,” she said softly. “No matter what.”

  Ruby waved them away before she could allow herself to become emotional. She turned to the table where Khalili was speaking to a very tall woman with close cropped, bleached blonde hair and gold rimmed glasses. The woman scanned Ruby up and down over the tops of those glasses, then to Virginia beside her. Her expression was blank. Ruby felt herself shrinking under her piercing eyes. Then, all of a sudden, the woman’s demeanour melted into a warm and welcoming smile and she immediately stepped around the table with her hand outstretched.

  “Good afternoon and welcome,” she greeted breezily. “My name is Juliette and I shall be taking care of the performers today. Professor Khalili has told me so much about you, Miss Delfey.”

  Juliette then offered her hand to Virginia.

  “And you Mrs. Delfey, I understand that you have been Ruby’s teacher for her career thus far.”

  Virginia nodded hastily and gulped.

  “I have,” she said simply.

  “Well come, come and let us get you organised,” Juliette said, taking a pen from behind her ear and turning to the table behind her where she picked up a green folder and opened it. “Now there are eight soloists this afternoon, including Ruby, for the first performance. Four performers will proceed to the late afternoon second recital and then two will progress to the final evening performance. Our judging panel will be watching each of you and will score each soloist based on the criteria you would have read about in your own material.”

  Ruby nodded in understanding and watched as Juliette took out a name card and stooped down to attach it to Ruby’s dress, just over her heart. Ruby looked at the card and noted that it had the number seven on it.

  “I’ll be seventh to perform, yes?”

  Juliette nodded and smiled again as she stood.

  “That’s right, dear. Now, we must take you around to the rear of the stage where you can meet with the others and prepare yourself. The recital will be starting very soon.”

  Ruby glanced at Virginia. A worried expression crossed over her face.

  Virginia took both her hands and leaned forward as best she could.

  “Now don’t you worry about a thing, Ruby,” she said solemnly. “I’m going to go and take my seat. Just remember everything you’ve learned. This is your time now. Take your palti and give it to your audience.”

  “My palti,” Ruby echoed. “My song…”

  She gazed up at her grandmother and cocked her head.

  “Nana… where do all these words come from? I know them because you taught me them, but…”

  She paused, remembering her grandmother’s first encounter with Khalili.

  “You mentioned something to Mr. Khalili when you first met – about the Pira-mank.”

  Virginia chuckled softly and leaned in close to Ruby.

  “The Peramangk, Ruby—the Peramangk. That is where your ancestors come from. It’s where I was born. You carry their palti with you, where ever you go, their story. It is who you are.”

  Ruby gulped and nodded quickly as Virginia planted a kiss on her forehead.

  “Go now.”

  “I will, Nana.”

  Khalili gestured to Ruby and she stood back from Virginia then turned and walked with Khalili to the stage. She kept her eyes on Virginia who waited there at the foot of the stage until Khalili ushered her through to the rear of the stage.

  Ruby was confronted by a bustling backstage area where a throng of people were milling about. She could see the seven other performers she would be competing against. Of the eight, there were three boys and five girls—including herself.

  As Khalili accompanied her, groups of eyes turned toward her. Ruby noted the other performers among them and some of them smiled, while others just looked on ambivalently or were practising with their own instruments, too busy to notice her. A couple of the performers had family members with them who studied Ruby intensely.

  Khalili motioned toward a pair of empty seats before a lighted mirror which had been set aside for them both and together they made their way over and sat down.

  Ruby immediately set her violin case down in front of the mirror and took her instrument out along with her bow and cleaning cloth.

  From the front of the stage, she could hear the sound of applause from the audience as an announcer stepped up onto the stage and began to introduce the performance.

  This was it. The recital was about to begin.

  Khalili sat before her, watching Ruby as she went through her oft practised routine of wiping her violin with her cloth, making sure that the string tension was correct, checking and adjusting the fibres of her bow. He smiled proudly as she worked. Despite her youth, Ruby performed these little tasks with the hand of someone much older and wiser.

  “How do you feel?” he ventured.

  “Good,” Ruby lied meekly. “I need to pee but, other than that, I’m okay.”

  Khalili chuckled softly.

  “Do you think those other people are looking at me? Wondering what I’m doing here? They’ve probably never seen someone like me before.”

  Khalili frowned, glancing over his shoulder at the other performers and their accompanying teachers and families.

  “Not at all,” he chided gently. “You are equal among them, Ruby. There is no greater leveller than a recital such as this. I can guarantee you,
they are probably just as nervous.”

  Ruby continued checking her violin, making some final adjustments to the pegs. Then she set it down on the counter top.

  One of the young performers, a Japanese girl about Ruby’s own age, approached her from across the carpet.

  “Hello,” the girl greeted gingerly. “I saw you as you came in and I just wanted to say hi and…you know, to say good luck…for today.”

  Ruby smiled sheepishly at the girl and offered her hand.

  “My name’s Ruby,” she said.

  The girl took Ruby’s hand and nodded respectfully.

  “I’m Meisa. This is my first recital. What about you?”

  Ruby nodded.

  “Mine too.”

  Meisa smiled in apparent relief and lingered for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

  Ruby gestured to a nearby chair and glanced sideways at Khalili.

  “Do you want to sit down for a bit?” she offered.

  Meisa beamed and immediately retrieved the chair.

  “How long have you been playing?” she asked, settling in beside Ruby.

  “Since I was four,” Ruby answered. “My nana has taught me since then but Mr. Khalili here has been my teacher for the past few months.”

  Meisa seemed genuinely impressed.

  “I started when I was four too,” she said. “That’s so cool.”

  She leaned in close to Ruby.

  “You’re so lucky to have Professor Khalili. He is one of the best teachers in the country.”

  Ruby turned her head toward Khalili with an expression of suspicion and incredulity.

  “You never told me that,” she jibed.

  “Well, you never asked,” Khalili shot back jokingly.

  He pointed to a big screen TV that was showing a live feed from the stage.

  “They’re about to start,” he said. “Do you want to watch or would you rather not?”

  “No, I can watch.”

  The recital began with one of the young boys taking the stage first. His performance of a concerto by Debussy immediately caught her attention and gave Ruby her first look at the company she was in.

  As each soloist went up, it was clear that they were all so polished. Their were some clear distinctions between each soloist too. Each had a very individual style. A couple of them were technically brilliant, staying rigidly true to each of their chosen compositions’ structure as it was set down on the page, while the other soloists displayed a more emotive approach, adding a touch of theatre to their performances.

  One performer in particular, who was fourth on the program, proved to be the most exceptional Ruby had seen thus far. She wielded her violin through an impassioned rendition of a Bruch concerto, capturing the attention of many who were assembled in the back stage area.

  “Who’s that?” Ruby whispered to Meisa.

  “Her name is Isobel Barrie. She’s been described as one of the most promising talents this year. Everyone knows who she is.”

  “I’ve never heard of her,” Ruby shrugged.

  Meisa gulped subtly and nodded.

  “She’s an amazing soloist.”

  Ruby frowned at Meisa who stood as her teacher beckoned from over by the access to the stage. She straightened her dress and took a deep breath in.

  “Good luck,” Ruby offered.

  Meisa smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  Ruby watched her go then sat back in her chair.

  Unconsciously, she began to bite at her fingernails as Meisa took to the stage. She could feel herself growing more apprehensive as the time for her own performance approached.

  Khalili noticed her demeanour and he offered her a bottle of water.

  “They’re all so good,” she commented from behind her upraised hand. “Better than I ever thought. I’m not gonna even come close to them.”

  Khalili reached across, took her hand and placed the water bottle into it.

  “What makes you so certain?” he questioned.

  Khalili turned toward Ruby and took her hand.

  “When you get out there, notice where you are, take it in for a moment, then go within yourself. Put everything else out of your mind and remember that it is just you, the piece and your imagination. Make this piece your own, Ruby, and show them.”

  Khalili paused and took Ruby’s violin in his hands. He brushed his hand over its shining surface.

  “You and your violin, Ruby. Nothing else.”

  Ruby drank from her bottle, then set it aside and took her violin from the professor.

  “Make it my own,” she echoed softly with curious half smile.

  Juliette approached Khalili and Ruby, and Ruby stiffened in her seat.

  “Are you ready, Ruby?”

  It was time.

  All her training had come down to this. From that first discovery of her grandmother’s forgotten violin in that dusty garage, to all those nights learning and practising under her tutelage as well as the countless excursions to the city and the window outside Elder Hall, to this very moment.

  She stood and turned to Khalili who handed her the bow. He tapped the side of his head one final time for good measure.

  “Show them.”

  Ruby stepped toward Juliette as the applause from the auditorium signalled her cue to take the stage.

  Juliette guided her to the entrance where Ruby could see the chamber orchestra waiting in readiness.

  “Please welcome our next soloist to the stage,” the Master of Ceremonies announced. “Performing an original composition…Miss Ruby Delfey.”

  The applause struck up once more and, taking a deep breath, Ruby walked out onto the stage.

  Chapter 33

  The lights shone brightly as Ruby took in the capacity audience. Taking up her position beside the conductor Ruby stood perfectly still, straightening her back just the way Khalili had shown her and she held her instrument ready as the applause died away. The auditorium became utterly silent.

  Her heart beat loudly as the musicians behind her lifted their instruments at the signal of the conductor, readying themselves.

  This was her moment.

  Ruby watched the conductor as he acknowledged her with an encouraging nod. Then he brought his baton down and the orchestra began to play—a single harmonic note that rose from nothingness and into being, giving life to Khalili’s composition for the very first time.

  Closing her eyes, Ruby entered into her familiar state of concentration, slowing her heart beat, listening as the gentle refrains from the accompanying strings lifted behind her, feeling a satisfying surge of adrenaline which carried her aloft. She could not have dreamed of a more beautiful sound. Ruby counted silently to herself and when she was eight beats from her starting position, she lifted her violin in one swift motion, settled her chin onto the rest and flicked her bow into the ready position.

  Her first note was flawless, a strong and effortless refrain that carried through the auditorium with such clarity, that many in the audience were visibly stunned. She touched down and entered into her performance of L’Chaim relaxing back into perfect synchronicity with the accompanying musicians, leading them forward as she drew from their sound.

  Her mind returned to the imagery of the concentration camp. Ruby saw the faces of the men, women and children once again. She tapped into their raw emotions—their fear, their torment, their desolation. She returned to the innocence of the child, who defied the prisoners’ collective terror to stand apart from them and greet the towering shadow that brought down the walls of their prison.

  Standing off stage to her right, Khalili leaned against the wall, his legs suddenly feeling like jelly. In all the years that had passed since he’d first composed L’Chaim in that very camp—in that very torment—he had only ever dreamed of it sounding as it did now. He felt himself teetering on the verge of tears.

  His own memories sprang forth as the piece entered its darker phase. He remembered the child who had inspired the piece, the
smiling orphan who he’d taken under his wing and kept safe during those years in the camp. It was that smiling face which had sustained Khalili himself and given him the motivation to survive, to endure and to write music when there seemed little point in doing so.

  In truth, that very life which he had resolved to protect during their imprisonment, had been cruelly torn from Khalili. The monster, represented so benevolently in his composition, was in fact their Nazi captors. Rather than deliver them from their bondage to the verdant field beyond the wire fences of the camp, that monster had, in reality, taken the boy and delivered him to the gas chamber. Were it not for the Allied Forces’ liberation of the camp soon after, Khalili felt certain he would have met a similar fate. The composition was, as a result, a tribute to this child whom Khalili could not save—the life that had been sacrificed so that many others could be saved.

  Steadying himself, Khalili peered out from a gap in the stage curtain, gazing out upon the audience and the expressions on their faces. They too, were spellbound by this diminutive soloist. It was as though the imagery that he had conceived in his mind all those years ago—that which Ruby interpreted so vividly—had been delivered to every single soul in the concert hall here and now, so that they were seeing what she saw and feeling what she felt.

  Asher slowly reached across for Virginia’s hand and took it, feeling her grandmother squeeze it gently in return. They exchanged glances with one another and smiled knowingly.

  Virginia closed her eyes and tuned into Ruby’s violin. It had strength and confidence, with not an ounce of hesitation. Ruby arrived at each long note beautifully, drawing her bow with the grace of a dancer, lifting her audience up with her. She negotiated the more complex sequences effortlessly, moving fluidly, leaning into her violin when it was required and producing depth and emotion. Virginia knew that the audience was witnessing something special, something beautiful.

  All sense of time fell away. The music was the only thing that mattered—feeling it and translating it. She felt nothing but peace within the performance.

  And then, it was finishing. Approaching the finale with the dawning sun rising on the liberated prisoners in the meadow, Ruby lead the orchestra to the end of L’Chaim.