Mozart's Sister by Nancy Moser

in curls. In contrast, their beards were greased coal black. It was
an odd combination.
    We listened to the officers yell out their commands: "Halt!
Quick march! Right! Left!"
    I leaned my elbows on the sill, amazed at the soldiers' straight
lines as they marched. "I can't imagine them getting their pretty
uniforms dirty in battle," I said.
    Wolfie jumped off his chair and ran to an open travel trunk, where
he retrieved the child-sized sword he often wore with his fanciest suits.
He stood very straight and held it vertically, flat against his nose. "I will be a soldier. I will be very brave and fight for the empress!"

    He spoke too loudly and I shushed him. I glanced at Mama,
who was trying to nap, but too late. Mama sat erect. "You will not
be a soldier, young man. Never!"
    "Why not?" Wolfie asked. He thrust the sword at the trunk as
if it were an enemy soldier.
    Mama swung her feet over the side of the bed and tried to reach
her shoes with a toe. I spotted one of the shoes under the bed and
rushed to bring it close. She put them on and answered Wolfie with
a sigh. "Because you are destined to be a great musician, that's why."
    Wolfie caught the edge of a nightshirt with his sword and flung
it across the room, where it caught the air and billowed to the floor.
"I could do both," he said, running after it.
    "You could not, and will not." She motioned him over. He
complied, and Mama took control of the nightshirt and the sword
and took his hands in hers. "You, dear Wolfgang, have a gift from
God. Your father and I are doing our best to make sure the entire
world knows about it. It is a gift that should be cherished and nurtured. It is your destiny."
    I moved to her side. "What about me, Mama?"
    But Mama wasn't done with Wolfie yet. She looked intently at
his eyes. "Do you understand me, dear boy?"
    Instead of answering, he kissed her cheek and went back to the
window to watch the soldiers.
    Finally finding myself with Mama's full attention, I asked the
question again. "What is my destiny, Mama?" To perform with your
brother, becoming the greatest duo in all musical hist-
    Mama stroked my cheek. Her face lost its adamant edge and
eased into a wistful smile. "You, my dear daughter, are destined to
be a wife and mother. You will have many children and teach all of
them to make music just as we have taught-"
    I took a step back, shaking my head.
    "You are upset?" Mama asked.
    "I want to be a great musician like Wolfie. I want to compose
and perform all over the world-with him."
    "Even your brother will eventually need to find a paid position
in a court. But paid musical positions are not available for women. Now, if you were a great singer, you might be able to sing in an
opera....

    I felt the air go out of me. Finally I managed a fresh breath. "If
I have no hopes of ever getting a position, then why am I doing this
tour?"
    "Because you can. Now you can."
    "But later?"
    Mania shrugged. She took my hand and kissed it. "Right now
you are having experiences far beyond those of most girls-most
women. Appreciate what you have now, what you are seeing and
doing. Take it in and hold it close, here ..." She touched the center
of my forehead. "And here." She laid a gentle hand over my heart.
"It's all you can do"
    "But it's not fair. Just because he's a boy and I'm a girl . .
    Mama stood and tugged at the corset that bound her torso. She
looked past me toward the window. "Hopefully your father will be
back soon. Help me get the brown trunk better organized so we
will be ready to leave."
    I looked toward Wolfie, who was once again hanging precariously out the window
    But this time I did not move to pull him safely inside.

    The logistics of our journey kept my mind off the inequities of
being female. For the most part.
    Yet by the very nature of the different people, traditions, and
lands we experienced along the way, I found myself gaining hope
that somehow, in some place, life could be different.