A Songbird's Lament

Chapter 2

Sunday morning. Gabriele's eyes snapped open.

"Make haste, boy," the boy's father spat, letting go of his son, who he happened to be violently jerking a moment earlier.

His father was dressed in his best black jacket. How odd, the last time he had ever dressed well for church was the service on Easter Sunday the previous year and today was but a day like any other. His mother was in a corner lacing her stays and donning her finest clothes as usual.

Beside him, Dante rolled over in his sleep, his face serene. Gently shaking his shoulder, Gabriele watched his brother's eyes groggily open. He gestured to the armoire in the corner by their now fully dressed mother, then the door.

The church bell in the nearby town square resounded eight times. Gabriele had only five minutes until he had to be in the choir loft with the other boys. Rushing to the armoire and breezing past his mother, the boy hastily pulled on his choir robes over his shirt and tugged on a pair of pants. Snatching his sheet music which was rolled into a disorderly scroll and tied with a frayed old stocking garter, Gabriele felt as though something was missing.

At the door, Gabriele sharply inhaled. His shoes. Well, the robe was about long enough to cover his feet, and finding them would take up time that could be spent running to church.

Without as much as saying goodbye, the boy sprinted out the door, without even bothering to close it. He could already see his neighbors leaving their houses for the morning service. Nearly tripping a few times, Gabriele darted down streets that seemed thrice as long as they did the previous afternoon. At last, after a painstakingly long journey, he arrived breathlessly at the steps to the church. With every step, his calves ached in protest.

In front of the entrance stood a perpetually disappointed man. Gabriele was so caught up in the look of utter disappointment that Padre Antonio had given him that he had all but forgotten the wrath of the choirmaster, Maestro Perosi. He stared down at the boy irritatedly and tapped his foot as if he had nothing better to do in the whole world.

"Signor Sanfelice, I was not aware that you would be late this morning," he said sarcastically. Gabriele sighed and prepared to give an excuse when the man looked down to see that Gabriele was barefoot.

"I was also led to believe that you, as any respectable person should, would be wearing shoes. May the Lord forgive you."

As Maestro Perosi berated him, Gabriele could not help but focus on the shining spot on his bald head. Every thought he had screamed at him to smack the middle-aged choirmaster's hairless head and shout:

"You resemble an egg!"

The boy became increasingly aware of his own straight dark brown locks. He began to imagine himself flying away on a pair of white-feathered wings.

"Are you as deaf as your little brother, let us go inside! We--no, you are late enough as it is!" Maestro Perosi yelled.

For a second, Gabriele saw red and felt his face burn. Instead of striking the man across the face however, he plastered on a visage of cheerfulness and nodded.

Up in the choir loft, the fellow choristers stared at Gabriele with looks of amusement or pity. He could hear some of them, mostly boys his age, unabashedly snickering as he passed by. Lorenzo looked at him from where he and the other altos were standing with kindly expression of compassion and a brief, tight smile. Now, his face was red with shame, rather than anger. His friend Matteo, a fellow boy soprano, raised his eyebrows and shuffled to the side to accommodate him.

Taking his spot beside Matteo, Gabriele unrolled his sheet music. Ah. Yes. He was to sing a motet during mass today.

Maestro Perosi raised his hands, and a silence fell over the choir loft. Gabriele's eyes made their way to the stain made by an egg yolk on the corner of the choirmaster's mouth and tried not to laugh. When he looked down at his music, all the others were already singing.

The boy opened his mouth to join the other singers. A sharp elbow poked his ribs and he did all he could to resist jumping away.

"Ow! Why on earth did you do tha-"

"Gabriele! You must have discovered the world's best hiding spot...or did Maestro Perosi or Gianfrancesco catch you before we did?" loudly whispered Matteo. The old choirmaster raised his glossy head to regard the two boys with a fiery glare.

"Speak softer, will you? Perosi looks like he could rip your heart out of your chest just with his eyes!" Gabriele hissed back.

"Alright, alright! But did Gianfrancesco find you, he seemed incredibly angry about that little trick," Matteo whispered, more quietly this time, "Though I cannot think of anyone who wouldn't be if a nine-year old boy cut off a massive lock of their hair! I'm but a year older than you but I would sooner strike Maestro Perosi across the face than have you give me a haircut!"

"I, er...I haven't seen Gianfrancesco sinc-"

"Signor Sanfelice, I suggest that you join the rest of the boys in singing," Mastro Perosi growled through clenched teeth, "Consider yourself fortunate that we are in a house of God."

This time when Gabriele opened his mouth, it was to sing. Before he knew it, over ten minutes had flown by and it was time for that day's service to begin. The sound of music to him seemed to make time pass quicker. The piece ended. It was time. Gabriele's heart pounded in his ribcage. The boy leaned forward slightly and caught Lorenzo doing the same. The alto raised his eyebrows and Gabriele nodded, nudging Matteo in the side.

"Duo Seraphim, clamabant...alter ad alterum..."

Lorenzo's voice had an unmatchable power to it. It was high, but lower than Gabriele's, similarly the three other altos in the choir, but it had an unearthly quality he couldn't quite describe. If Gabriele underwent a 'procedure' so he too could attain an angel's voice like Lorenzo's, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"Sancta...Sancta...Sancta..."

Beside him, Gabriele could hear Matteo's voice strain to hit the higher notes. Perhaps he was just feeling a bit ill, though he seemed well enough when they were playing hide-and-seek the day before.

"Dominus Deus Sabaoth..."

What did any of these words mean? For all he knew, he could be calling every one of the people in the church an unsightly old dim-wit with their head up their ass. Lost in his thoughts, Gabriele accidentally sang a note slightly off-key. Internally, he cringed.

"Plena est omnis terra gloria eius..."

Author's Note: I'm not the best at writing long chapters or hell, writing in general, please bear with me. However, this following week is my last week of school so I'll have more time to write! Also, if anyone was curious, the motet that Gabriele sang was 'Duo seraphim' by Claudio Monteverdi, but the recording that I based this off of specifically was the one by Concerto Vocale.