Chapter 17

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Chapter 17 Gustave's POV

I woke up the next morning excitedly. I was surprisingly full of life to have stayed up so late. I threw on the same suit as yesterday and headed off for school. I practically ran all the way there, and I waited in the yard in front of the school until I saw Elaina. I ran to her with the little leather bound notebook in tow. Being the clumsy self that I am, I ran into her, but she stopped me with a firm grasp on my shoulders. She was surprisingly strong to look so frail and delicate.

"My goodness, Gustave!" she exclaimed, "What in the world has got you so worked up?"

"Come on!" I replied to her, "I have to show you something before class starts." I took her by the hand and dragged her towards the school. One of the more recreational teachers that taught younger children had a small upright piano in her room. She was my first teacher three years ago, and she was by far my favorite. I asked her if she would mind my playing. She was always so enthusiastic and said that she would love to hear me play. She didn't even know I did. I pushed Elaina's shoulders and sat her down beside me on the little old piano stool. "I want you to help me with this," I said. I played through the piece.

"It's beautiful, Gustave. It's perfect the way that it is. Whatever do you want me to help you with?" she asked with a look of disbelief on her face. She touched the music with her hand almost as if it were a priceless painting.

"It's not finished."

"It sure sounds finished."

"I know. That's what I thought when I first played it."

"How do you know it isn't finished if you didn't write it?"

"My father wrote it. He told me that he had always intended to write lyrics, but he never really got around to it."

"Your father writes exquisite music," she said still in shock of the piece.

"His only truly exquisite ones are the ones he wrote for my mother. This is one of them."

"Oh, Gustave, I couldn't help you with this piece. It's too special to your family. I shouldn't be a part of it. I would probably just ruin it."

I was sort of hurt by her reply. She was right. I hadn't even thought about how my father would feel if he found out some little school girl that he didn't even know wrote the lyrics to his piece. Then I realized, that's the entire reason I wanted Elaina to hear it. She was my muse just as my mother was to my father. I didn't need her to write the lyrics. I just needed her to sing them. "You're right," I found myself saying suddenly, "Could you at least hum the melody for me?" She did as she was asked. I had never heard her sing by herself. She had always been singing with the other girls in her section in the choir. Her voice floated over the notes. She reminded me of Mother. Her singing was almost effortless even through the higher notes in the piece. It was all I needed. I suddenly thought as my father would, and my hand went in rapidly adding in lyrics. They were about love. They were about the love I had for my mother, the love I had for my father, and the love that I had for Elaina. I finished right as the time the bell rang. I felt sweat bead my forehead, and Elaina was staring at me as if I was a mad man. Her look of disbelief corresponded with the fact that she had no words for me. I looked at her and smiled, "Like father, like son." I took her hand and walked her to her class. She stared at me in disbelief the entire time. I gave her a little nudge to go through the classroom door, and she continued to watch me as I walked away. I was so happy that I couldn't contain my joy. I went down the hall jumping and yelling excitedly. I got even more stares from the kids than I did on a typical day, but I didn't care.

During break, I grabbed Elaina, whom was still speechless, and I pulled her to the piano our choir teacher had since the younger grades had already had their break. I handed Elaina the words and began to play. She timidly started to sing, and I stopped playing. "No, Elaina," I said in an angry tone that even surprised me. I sounded like my father. "You sang it so beautifully this morning. Don't be shy. Sing."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "It's just I have never seen you this way. It's sort of frightening."

I took her by the hands, "You will never have any reason to be frightened of me. I give you my word that I will never hurt you." I didn't know where those words came from. I suppose I was promising myself more than I was promising Elaina. She nodded, and I began playing again. Her voice was like velvet as it moved over the words. I was lost in the sound when suddenly the music ended. Elaina was smiling and holding her hand to her chest.

"This is so beautiful, Gustave," she said sweetly.

Suddenly I caught a glimpse of Ms. Lackey, our choir director standing from her desk. She had the same expression on her face that Elaina had that morning. It was the look of disbelief.

"Elaina," she said, "Would you like to sing this piece as a solo tonight at the concert? Gustave you may accompany her. Your playing is so beautiful."

I nodded my thanks, and Elaina started shaking her head nervously. She was too scared to say yes even though in her heart, that's really what she wanted to say.

I spoke for her, "We'd love to."

Elaina shot me a look that I had never seen, but I smiled at her all the same. She knew there was no getting out of it.

"Who are the composers? I need to know what to announce," said Ms. Lackey.

I replied with a smile, "That remains a mystery to you."

She looked at me confusedly. Elaina suddenly looked at me again, "I thought you said your father wrote it?"

"He did," I said, "but have I ever told you who my father was?" She shook her head. "I thought not," I replied.

"I'll just put it down as an anonymous composer," said Ms. Lackey.

"That will be just fine," I said. Elaina and I both wished her well for the concert, and we both left for our afternoon classes.

I rushed home right after school. We didn't have a pre-show rehearsal, and Ms. Lackey had told us that we needed to be dressed in evening attire for the night.

As I rushed through the door, my father jumped. "Sorry, Papa," I said, and I kissed him on the head. I placed a small white envelope on his desk in front of him. I had intended to go to my room and get ready after that, but Papa grabbed me by the arm and stopped me in my tracks.

He held up the envelope, "What's this?"

"It's an invitation to my concert tonight," I replied. "It's going to be a formal event. I want you to be there."

I could see his expression under the mask. He was nervous. He knew that there were going to be a lot of people there, but so did I. Everyone at school had heard the strange stories of Mr. Y and the legends of the Phantom of the Opera, but I didn't care. I knew that everyone would be too scared to mess with him, and I really wanted him to hear Elaina and I perform his piece. He hadn't given me a formal reply to the invitation, but I didn't really give him a choice. I kissed him on the head once more and said, "It's at eight. Don't be late. I have to be there early, and I need to get ready. The address to the church is on the invitation."

I left him there and got ready. I slicked my hair back down and put on my black tux complete with white bow tie. I always remembered my father's rule about ties. White was always to be worn before black because black was less formal. I picked up the little leather bound notebook and rushed to the boat. I left my father there sitting at his desk and staring at the invitation. I didn't know if he would come, but I had to try. His music was going to be heard, and I wanted everyone to know the master that composed it.

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