The Nocturne

Operetta

     "I Edgar Rossini, I am a liberator!" I cried out to the assembled crowd of supporters who ceremoniously cheered back in chorus.   

    At this precise moment in time I was still standing, wearing nothing but a black bathrobe on the Bainswick University lawn. The police had shown up surprisingly promptly! A male and female constable, who were over the other side of the quadrant listening to Old Bulwark ranting and raving about me. At least I supposed he was talking about me? As while he was speaking he kept looking over to where I was standing, nodding his head towards me, and throwing me disapproving looks. In reality I could not hear what he was actively saying as they were far too far away from me. So, I could not hear the actual words spoken, but I could see the lively gestures he was making. Old Bulwark was very animatedly waving his arms around excitedly.. He was pointing over now in my direction, his face getting a hotter and hotter shade of hellfire red. While witnessing this spectacle I concluded that they were discussing my impending future, or lack of one, here at Bainswick. I listened in closely trying to catch the essence of what they were saying. But the breeze caught the sound and whipped it away from me like it was a forbidden confidence, only reserved for the privileged few. 

     At this hour of the morning that winsome wind was blowing in the opposite direction and carrying the sound far away and wondered where that sound might end up, and who might hear it. I wondered if the cows in the neighbouring field could hear this show of contempt and scorn Old Bulwark was pouring out about me. I wondered in an odd moment of whimsical flight of fancy, whether the sound could travel on the wind far away, to another country maybe. I remembered vaguely the chaos theory, the butterfly effect about the butterfly flapping its wings and potentially causing a hurricane in some far-off place? I wondered if the same thing could happen with sound? Could it travel on the breeze to another country maybe? I thought perhaps not, but I liked the idea of it. 

    I pondered this odd imagining for a few moments then discarded the idea. No, I did not really think this could be scientifically possible. I mean I very much doubted it. From my very, very limited understanding of science and physics I seemed to remember that sound waves could not travel very far, although I admit I was no expert. I thought it a fun idea though that perhaps the tourists, backpackers, or hillwalkers down by the picturesque part of the canal about a mile and a half away, sitting to have a pint and a Cornish pasty in the Bainswick Arms pub, would suddenly hear Old Bulwark snarling and growling away about some scallywag called Edgar Rossini. His voice would crescendo up and down as he was ranting and raving like a mad man. The wind swirling around them, carrying that sound around like it was sand and depositing it in a new location. Or maybe even someone further afield would enjoy hearing the show.

     I pondered this for a moment. I was clearly no scientist, that was true.  Science was not my forte at all, I was studying Classical Art and Literature here at Bainswick. I made a mental note to ask Ellie my twin sister about this theory, next time that I caught up with her over the Spacetime app over the internet. She would probably laugh and tease me about being such a 'numbskull' or 'dingbat' when it came to her forte astrophysics. She was studying astronomy and other complicated; sciences, which I freely admit were way out of my ability range and skill set, and that I had no hope of understanding. She had won a scholarship to MIT the prestigious University in America. And when she was eighteen she had gotten on a plane and just left. She just left me here alone, with dad. A man I am sure had come to loathe me with every fibre of his being.  Ellie and I had never been apart for such a long time before. I had not seen her in the flesh for nearly two years. We spoke regularly over the internet but it was not the same. Thinking about her now made me realise just how much I missed her.