The Mozart Season by Virginia Euwer Wolff

Author:Virginia Euwer Wolff
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781466887022
Publisher: Square Fish

9

By the time I’d had my day off and had actually missed Mozart—really missed him—there were other things to practice, too. The Youth Orchestra was probably going to play the last of the Waterfront Concerts because my mother’s orchestra didn’t have its contract yet and the musicians would probably be locked out, and we had three rehearsals scheduled. I felt nervous about not having Lois there, calling me her Little Buddy. I’d have to get used to a whole new stand partner.

The music librarian at my father’s department called me and said her staff couldn’t find a Waltz Tree or Waltz Three or Waltz in Three, and asked me how soon I needed it. I didn’t know what to say. It had been lost for probably more than fifty years. He didn’t want to die without finding it. I didn’t even know if he was sick.

I’d started depending on my midnight bike rides. I saw old people walking their dogs, once a lady pushing a sleeping baby in a stroller, and I saw a man sitting on a bench in the park flossing his teeth, all alone. I saw people coming home and putting their cars in their garages, and a couple of people coming out of their houses with lunch boxes, going to work on late shifts. And the bushes and trees with their leafy shadows in the night, and once in a while a rabbit scampering in the park. One night I saw a man and lady arguing beside a tree. She said, “You always do that, every single time.…” and he said “You’re the one that always” something. Once I saw a porcupine in front of me on the trail, going along in its slow waddle. And usually there were cats crouching or springing, their lemon-shaped green eyes eerie in the dark. They were little stories I was seeing; they helped me get unfolded inside. The night riding helped me go to sleep.

But somebody saw me one night and phoned my mother the next day. I heard it happen.

“Our Allegra? No— No. She was fast asleep in bed. You what? She what? Allegra, come here right now— Allegra? She— No, no, I had no idea— It was what time? I can’t believe— Alan, come here— On her bicycle? Are you sure? Thank you, thanks. Thanks. Of course. I just didn’t—Thanks, good-bye.

“Alan, you won’t believe— I can’t believe— Allegra, where were you at seven minutes after midnight last night?”

My father and I had both come almost running. We stood in the living room listening to my mother’s voice all choppy and afraid. I took a deep breath.

“In Laurelhurst Park,” I said. I tried to say it as quietly as I could, and I was hoping the neighbor was wrong, that I’d actually been home in bed.

My father took a few seconds to understand. My mother put her hand over her mouth and leaned against the end of the sofa. They both stared at me. My mother’s hand fell down from her face.

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