Music From Standing Waves by Johanna Craven

seeing me
wince.
    “I’m not going to stop,” I coughed. “There’s
nothing you can do.”
    Sarah reached out and snatched the
violin.
    “Give it back!”
    She held it above her shoulder, her long
fingers curled around the neck.
    “Mum, please.” My voice caught. The violin
teetered beside her head. “Please give it back.” I held out my hand
despairingly. “Please.”
    She slammed the violin into the coffee table.
Strings snapped out of the pegs and the bridge flew into the air.
Shards of wood shot across the lounge. I stared in disbelief. Sarah
tossed the violin onto the floor and turned away. The air hummed
with harmonics.
    Neither of us spoke. I snatched the broken
violin off the carpet and rushed into the hall. Sarah returned to
the kitchen and the crack of the knife began again. On my knees in
the hallway, I sat the violin back in its case. Tried to lay the
strings over the shattered bridge. Tears blurred the mess in front
of me. I felt like my mother had smashed my identity. Without my
violin, I had nothing. I was nothing. My hands shook with rage. I
rushed outside, the case banging against my knee. I didn’t stop
running until I reached Andrew’s house.
    He opened the door with a plastic truck in
one hand and a towel in the other. Oliver clung to his shin like a
barnacle.
    “Hey Abs,” he said. “Are we having a lesson
now? Sorry, I must have forgotten.”
    “Can I come in?” I asked, pushing past
him.
    “Sure…”
    I threw the case onto the lounge room floor
and opened the lid.
    Andrew stared at the mess of strings. “What
happened?”
    “My mum.”
    “Your mum did that? Oh shit…” He folded his
arms and paced across the room.
    “I told her you’re still teaching me,” I
admitted.
    “She took it well then?”
    I lifted the violin and cradled it, batting
Oliver away from my case. “Can you fix it?”
    Andrew frowned and knelt beside me. “I don’t
know, Abs…” He tried to stand the bridge up. “It’s pretty wrecked.
Maybe we can take it to the music shop or something.”
    I rubbed my eyes.
    “Hey, don’t get upset, okay?” He touched my
shoulder. “Leave it here and I’ll see what I can do. Do you want to
borrow my violin for now?”
    I paused, then shook my head. “No. I think
I’ve pushed my mum as far as she’ll go.”
     
    Sarah took her anger out on Nick.
    “What do you mean you can’t afford to move
out? Where does all your money go?”
    “Jesus, what is this, the third degree?”
    Dad got involved too. “Your mother asked you
a question.”
    “Well how the hell should I know?”
    I was listening to Dvorak in my bedroom. I
turned up the volume on my stereo.
    “They pay you enough. Are you even going to work?”
    “Of course I’m bloody going to work. Just
fucking leave it alright… Jesus Christ…”
    I heard Nick thunder up to his bedroom and
slam the door. I felt sorry for him. Turning off the CD, I tiptoed
up to his room and knocked lightly. He was lying on the bed with
his eyes closed, headphones over his ears and a cigarette between
his teeth. I could hear the song coming muffled from his Walkman.
The same song he always listened to. Ah, that damn cold November
rain.
    I tapped his knee and he sat up suddenly.
    “You shouldn’t have your music up that loud,”
I said. “You’ll damage your eardrums.”
    “Don’t you start.” He tossed the Walkman next
to the cushion he was using as a pillow. “What do you want?”
    I shrugged. “Nothing really.”
    “Well in that case you can get out of
here.”
    I perched on the torn brown bedspread. I
couldn’t remember the last time I had been inside Nick’s room.
T-shirts were strewn across the carpet, muddy boots tipped over by
the door. A tape deck poked out from under a wet towel. Everything
smelled like cigarettes and dirty clothes. I crossed my legs.
    “You know it’s my fault Sarah’s being so
shitty to you. She found out I’m still having violin lessons.”
    “I know that,” said Nick. “And