hall.
I was definitely preoccupied as I went back to my classroom. Celia’s brother would be working at the school. She must have known that when she told me yesterday morning that he was back. Boy, some students really tried hard to find someone for me. One thing was certain, I needed to get the Bradley’s out of my head and focus on my own life.
There were only a few minutes left before the halls began to fill, and students started to trickle into class. Of course, this meant I wouldn’t get much done again this morning. So much for that extra time I had given myself. By the time I had helped the steady stream of students with various questions about the reading or the writing assignments, or those that just came in to chat, the first bell rang.
The day came and went in a whirlwind, helping me push aside the mess in my mind. That is why I liked teaching. It was easy to immerse yourself and forget about life. I could get wrapped up in the lives of the book characters or focus on my students and keep my mind off of everything in my head. There was just too much to deal with.
By sixth period, I was really ready for the weekend and kept glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes. All that was left was to give out the vocabulary quiz and I would be free. As I handed them out, Celia kept on glancing in my direction, a quizzical look on her face, as if she was studying my every move. Our eyes met briefly and she grinned at me. My own smile back to her was meek and small. She was definitely up to something.
Finally, the bell rang and I felt as free as my students. Celia lingered a little, and I worried that she would stay and talk, but I began to pack up my things, making a show of leaving, and she eventually left without saying a word.
The rain was coming down hard when I went to leave. The buses had all gone and the last few students were making mad dashes for their cars, books and jackets covering their heads. Making a run for my car just didn’t sound all that exciting. Perhaps I could just wait a few minutes for it to lighten up. Maybe I would just go check the auditorium to make sure that everything was set up for Monday’s auditions. Besides the few scraps of paper on the floor, which I picked up, things looked great. I brushed a small amount of dust off the top of the piano and sat down, arching my fingers over the keys. The rain hummed steadily on the roof of the auditorium and almost sounded like an audience applauding in appreciation. Closing my eyes, I let the song find me. They seemed to know which one needed to come out to help me feel better. I wasn’t surprised when Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini” came out. It had always been one of my favorites and I let the music ebb and flow through my soul. I could almost feel the orchestra playing right alongside of me. It grew into a crescendo and then fell again. When the song ended, I left my fingers lightly on the keys, waiting. Then I froze. Again, the feeling I wasn’t alone.
The creak of a chair was enough to make me jump, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. “I’m sorry. Don’t stop on account of me. I just heard someone playing, and I followed the song in here. Please go on,” a deep but soft voice called out.
I turned toward the silhouette hidden in the shadows and breathed a small sigh of relief that at least I wasn’t just imagining things. There actually was someone there. I didn’t know what to say, so I turned back to the piano and tentatively began to play again. All the while, I could feel him slowly coming closer toward the stage. Toward me . I normally didn’t like to play in front of others unless it was on a stage. There was something about the stage lights washing out the faces in the audience that helped. But this was different. I knew he was there, yet I still played and it didn’t seem to bother me. It only took me a moment to all but forget that he was there as I got back into the melody.
By
I was definitely preoccupied as I went back to my classroom. Celia’s brother would be working at the school. She must have known that when she told me yesterday morning that he was back. Boy, some students really tried hard to find someone for me. One thing was certain, I needed to get the Bradley’s out of my head and focus on my own life.
There were only a few minutes left before the halls began to fill, and students started to trickle into class. Of course, this meant I wouldn’t get much done again this morning. So much for that extra time I had given myself. By the time I had helped the steady stream of students with various questions about the reading or the writing assignments, or those that just came in to chat, the first bell rang.
The day came and went in a whirlwind, helping me push aside the mess in my mind. That is why I liked teaching. It was easy to immerse yourself and forget about life. I could get wrapped up in the lives of the book characters or focus on my students and keep my mind off of everything in my head. There was just too much to deal with.
By sixth period, I was really ready for the weekend and kept glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes. All that was left was to give out the vocabulary quiz and I would be free. As I handed them out, Celia kept on glancing in my direction, a quizzical look on her face, as if she was studying my every move. Our eyes met briefly and she grinned at me. My own smile back to her was meek and small. She was definitely up to something.
Finally, the bell rang and I felt as free as my students. Celia lingered a little, and I worried that she would stay and talk, but I began to pack up my things, making a show of leaving, and she eventually left without saying a word.
The rain was coming down hard when I went to leave. The buses had all gone and the last few students were making mad dashes for their cars, books and jackets covering their heads. Making a run for my car just didn’t sound all that exciting. Perhaps I could just wait a few minutes for it to lighten up. Maybe I would just go check the auditorium to make sure that everything was set up for Monday’s auditions. Besides the few scraps of paper on the floor, which I picked up, things looked great. I brushed a small amount of dust off the top of the piano and sat down, arching my fingers over the keys. The rain hummed steadily on the roof of the auditorium and almost sounded like an audience applauding in appreciation. Closing my eyes, I let the song find me. They seemed to know which one needed to come out to help me feel better. I wasn’t surprised when Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini” came out. It had always been one of my favorites and I let the music ebb and flow through my soul. I could almost feel the orchestra playing right alongside of me. It grew into a crescendo and then fell again. When the song ended, I left my fingers lightly on the keys, waiting. Then I froze. Again, the feeling I wasn’t alone.
The creak of a chair was enough to make me jump, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. “I’m sorry. Don’t stop on account of me. I just heard someone playing, and I followed the song in here. Please go on,” a deep but soft voice called out.
I turned toward the silhouette hidden in the shadows and breathed a small sigh of relief that at least I wasn’t just imagining things. There actually was someone there. I didn’t know what to say, so I turned back to the piano and tentatively began to play again. All the while, I could feel him slowly coming closer toward the stage. Toward me . I normally didn’t like to play in front of others unless it was on a stage. There was something about the stage lights washing out the faces in the audience that helped. But this was different. I knew he was there, yet I still played and it didn’t seem to bother me. It only took me a moment to all but forget that he was there as I got back into the melody.
By
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