Chapter 8 #2
For some reason, he’d taken it upon himself to teach her how to ‘tinkle the keys’, as he put it.
It hadn’t felt like lessons, but they were, she realized now.
He’d casually corrected her fingering, made her do scales she hadn’t realized were scales because he kept her laughing telling bawdy stories of the Nashville circuit. But he’d taught. And she’d learned.
Buzz had been a man who travelled light. A duffel bag, his snakeskin boots and a keyboard. When he left in the middle of the night, she discovered he’d left her the keyboard.
So though she didn’t have formal training, she certainly knew how to accompany herself.
Without really thinking about it, Ellen put together a little RBK playlist. Songs that played well in a large room that didn’t have great acoustics, songs that the three men and Nicole might be familiar with and enjoy.
But first, one of her favourites, one that few people knew.
A chord, another chord, a riff, and she segued into an old Celtic song, Home of the Heart.
Like most Celtic songs, it broke your heart, just ripped it in two.
Ellen had always loved it because she suspected that the composer, like her, didn’t have a home of the heart.
It wasn’t a remembrance of something lost but a dirge for something never known. Something eternally beyond your grasp.
When the last note had disappeared into the quiet room, she changed gears, plunging into the exuberant notes of Sweet Caroline. It wasn’t a song women sang often so her soprano rendering took people by surprise. She’d always loved the song, loved its hopefulness and verve.
Without missing a beat, she moved into Honky Tonk Woman, then Smoke Gets in Your Eyes then a song she’d composed years ago in college, where she’d stayed in her dorm every weekend studying because she couldn’t afford to let any grades drop, while her roommates were having fun outside.
Listening at the Window. It was funny and bittersweet, with an undertone of regret.
Followed by Bridge Over Troubled Water, New York State of Mind, River of Dreams and then, because she loved Billy Joel so much and couldn’t get enough of his songs, Piano Man.
While she sang, It happened. It didn’t always happen, so she was thrilled when it did.
She lost herself completely in the music. Totally. The entire world fell away. She forgot her troubles, the danger she was in, the fact that she was on the run and had found only temporary refuge here, the loss of her old life, her loneliness and despair…all gone.
There was nothing in her head but the beautiful music, her hands playing completely on their own.
She didn’t have to think of the playing at all.
Buzz had called her a natural, and maybe she was.
It felt as if the music flowed from her fingers like water from a natural spring.
It came from her heart, sure, but it came from the sun and the earth and the very air around her.
She had no idea where she was, who was listening. It didn’t make any difference whether there was one person or a thousand or even no one. The music was hers, now and forever, and her soul took ease for the space of the songs.
She finished with her favourite song in all the world. Stand by Me. It had always seemed like one of those phrases that said it all. Stand by me. All you needed in this life was someone to stand by you.
She sang it slow, like a ballad, a ballad for the lost ones, for all those who’d never had a loved one stand by them, and she sang it like a requiem, because it was a world in which so few stood by anyone. Because so few people were loved.
The last note echoed in the room. She often sang with her eyes closed, completely absorbed in the music. But eventually, as all good things must, the music finished and she came slowly back into the world.
A little sadly and a little reluctantly, because the music had been like spending time in a sun-dappled garden where nothing bad could ever happen. And now she had to return to the world, the real world, full of danger and cruelty.
Her hands fell from the keyboard and she opened her eyes and looked at her little audience, expecting polite smiles, maybe a little light applause.
Instead, Sam and Mike were looking stunned. Harry was looking hard, grim. Nicole wiped a tear from her face.
Ellen was alarmed, particularly at what she saw in the men’s expressions. “What?” She looked at Nicole. “It was that bad?”
“God. No, not at all.” Nicole gave a watery smile.
It was a good thing Ellen liked her so much, otherwise she’d hate her for looking so great even when crying.
“It was—it was just so moving, so beautiful. Your voice—I can’t describe it.
And that last song. I never really thought of it that way before.
It made me think of my father. You’re so talented, Ellen.
No wonder Harry listened to you for hours on end. ”
Ellen looked at Harry, startled as he suddenly stood up and crossed to her. “Time to go home,” he said, putting his huge hand under her elbow and lifting. She rose, because it was either that or leave her elbow behind.
Before she knew it, they were at the front door. Harry didn’t appear to move fast, but she scrambled to keep up.
“Thanks for dinner!” Ellen managed to call out over her shoulder at three utterly surprised faces. She and Harry stepped over the threshold, the door whooshed shut behind them and they were alone in the hallway.