The Grantville Gazette - Volume 4 Part 32

"Just Marla, please. You make me sound like I'm an old maiden aunt!"

They all laughed, and Anna continued, "Marla, then, to please you. Again, thank you. Franz is very dear

to us, and we worried so about him when he left. We were so surprised to receive the letter he sent. It was the first word we had had since he left over a year ago."

"Yes," said Friedrich, leaning over, sandy-colored hair falling into his eyes, "this crazy man took out on

his own, leaving us behind to worry. And worry we did! Not a word for months and months, and then like a bolt from heaven comes his letter, sounding almost like a story of one taken under hill to the Erl- king's domain. First he tells of the wonders of Grantville, then he tells of music not known to mortal men, then he hints of a lovely lady." They all laughed again as Marla's blush renewed.

"Indeed," Thomas rumbled with that deep voice that was so surprising from his slender frame, "nothing would do for Anna but that we come immediately and make sure that Franz was safe and hale, that he was not lying in a delirium someplace, or under some kind of enchantment." Now it was Anna's turn to blush as the rest laughed.

"But I did not expect you," said Franz, as the laughter died. "I thought you would write to me a letter of your own. I have been looking for one these past few days, but instead, you are here yourselves. I do not complain, I am glad to see you, but why?"

"Because we care about you," said Master Hans. "We must see for ourselves your wellbeing, see for

ourselves the wonders of Grantville, see for ourselves the fraulein who has lifted you up."He raised his mug to Marla, then continued, "Und see for ourselves the music and the instruments you wrote about. Anna would see you, so nothing would do but that Friedrich and Thomas would come und see the other wonders you named. Me," he chuckled, "much have I heard about the new ways and devices of Grantville, of changes good und bad, of people growing rich who grasp change. If new music und new instruments come, then Riebeck will be at the front. Must see them all, especially piano that shames the n.o.ble clavier."

"So," Thomas said, leaning forward, eyes shining brightly "when can we see these marvels?"

"Thomas!" Anna hissed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Enough," the diminutive woman said sternly, looking around the table. "There is time enough to talk

about that tomorrow. Tonight, let us just enjoy old and new friends together." And they proceeded to do so.

* * * The next morning was bright and crisp and clear, the sun was shining brightly, and Franz's head was thudding like the tympani in the opening fanfare of Strauss' Also Sprach Zarathustra. As he turned onto the sidewalk leading to Marla's aunt's house, a particularly bright beam of sunlight made its way through the naked limbs of the trees and lanced into his eyes. He threw his good hand up to shade his eyes and stopped, swaying a little. Flinching when the front door slammed, he looked up and peered under his hand to see Marla walking toward him, smiling.

"I told you not to drink that wine last night, not after drinking all that beer." Marla's voice held a note of gleeful satisfaction, and pierced Franz's ears much as the light had a.s.saulted his vision. He moaned a little. She took his arm and turned him, walking back out to the street. "Had anything to eat?"

"Please, not so loud. Some bread, some aspirin, a little water."

"You'll start to feel somewhat better soon, then. Next time, listen to me, all right?"

"Yes."

Aunt Susan's house was only a couple of blocks from the Methodist church, which was where their

friends from Mainz were supposed to meet them this morning. As they turned the corner, they saw Friedrich helping Anna down from their wagon and Thomas tying the horse to a convenient tree in the parking lot. Master Riebeck was looking around, and he smiled and waved when he saw them. Within moments, they were all together. Franz was somewhat gratified to note that Friedrich and Thomas looked about as bad as he felt. Master Riebeck was apparently none the worse for the evening's experience. Marla began herding them through the main doors of the church.

"You wanted to see a piano, so I thought we'd start here." They could hear ringing tones unlike anything the visitors had ever heard before, which became clearer as Marla opened the doors into the sanctuary.

They entered through the rear of the room, and stopped for a moment in awe. The room was not as large as a cathedral, but there was a certain majesty to it nonetheless, with its high ceiling, dark wooden beams and pews, and large stained gla.s.s windows. Marla led them down the aisle toward the platform at the front.

There was a large instrument on the platform which was the source of the tones they had heard. By deduction it must be the piano. A gray-haired man seated at it was banging on a key to produce the sounds. He looked up as they approached.

"G'mornin', Marla."

"Hi, Ingram. You going to be long?"

"Nope. Just about done. Reverend Jones called me a couple of days ago and asked me to check the

tuning. Near's I can tell, it's right on."

"Great. Ingram, these are some friends of Franz's, from Mainz. This is Master Hans Riebeck, an

instrument maker, Anna and Friedrich Braun, his daughter and son-in-law, and Thomas Schwarzberg, their friend. Everyone, this is Ingram Bledsoe, my friend and a good instrument maker in his own right."

There was much shaking of hands and exchanging of pleasantries, then Marla continued. "They came all

the way down to see Franz, and to learn as much as they can about the music and instruments he wrote to them about. I brought them in to see the piano. I'm glad you're here, because I was going to call you about bringing them around to see some of your instruments and kits."

"No problem. It's Sat.u.r.day, so I was going to putter around in the shop anyway. I'll just wait here and we

can go on over there when you're done."

He got up from the bench and she sat down, while he raised the lid on the grand piano to its greatest opening. Marla rippled a chord up and down the keyboard, then looked up at the visitors. "How do you want to do this?"

Everyone looked at Master Riebeck, who simply said, "Play music, zings you know."

She looked down at her hands, and began with a short piece in the contrapuntal style. "Two-Part Invention Number 1, by Bach." Then came a slow legato piece with a repet.i.tious arpeggio in the ba.s.s.

She stopped after a minute or so. "Part of the first movement of the 'Moonlight Sonata,' by Beethoven." A martial theme. "'Onward, Christian Soldiers.'"Master Riebeck raised his hand, and she stopped. "Good. The sound, we know it." He muttered in German to Franz, who said, "He wishes you to demonstrate the power of the piano, what it can do that the clavier cannot."

"I am not very accomplished," Marla began.

Ingram snorted, and said, "Girl, you're the best pianist in town, and one of the best I've heard, period.

Just play that thing you were working on before the Ring fell."

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sat motionless for several moments. Then she opened her eyes, raised her hands, and literally attacked the keyboard. Franz was astounded. He had never seen anyone's hands move so fast, and the volume of sound coming from the piano was amazing. The arpeggios of this piece made the Beethoven sound like a child's exercise, and the percussive hammering of chords was incredible.

All too soon it was over. Marla lifted her hands from the keys and sat back, breathing heavily. No one else moved. Friedrich and Anna were both staring wide-eyed at her, Master Riebeck was gazing at the piano through narrowed eyelids, and Thomas stood like a statue with his eyes closed.

She caught her breath, and said, "That was the "Revolutionary Etude," by Fredric Chopin, a Polish composer and pianist who would have lived about two hundred years from now. Or at least, it was supposed to be. I made so many mistakes it was ridiculous. Got to practice more. Anyway, he'll probably never be born, and the only place his music exists is here in Grantville. And Ingram, the A-flat three is a little flat."

Thomas broke out of his stillness, threw himself to his knees by the bench and took her hand in both of his. "Teach me."

Startled, she tried to pull away.

"I beg of you, teach me! I will pay anything to learn this!"

The happy-go-lucky young man of the night before was staring at her with burning eyes, and his clutch on her hand was fervent and strong to the point of pain. "Please, I must have this music! This power, this pa.s.sion, this . . . this . . ."

"Thomas," Anna said, touching his shoulder, "let go, you're frightening her."

He dropped her hand as if it burned him, and shrank back, saying, "Sorry," over and over. "Please . . ."

"I'm . . . I'm not a teacher," Marla said unevenly. "I can't teach you. I don't know enough to teach."

"Marla," Ingram said. She looked at him. "You know plenty. What you don't know, you can find out or

teach yourself. You can teach. You were going to eventually, before. Looks like you just get your

chance earlier than you thought, is all."

She looked into his weathered face for long moments, and seemed to draw strength from his confidence in her. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to Thomas.

"What I know, I will show you. And maybe together we can learn what I don't know." Then she turned

to Franz and held out her hand. "And you, too, dear heart. We will find a way for you to do music again."

The young people gathered around the piano, talking back and forth, chattering, even. Marla began playing something light and bouncy. Master Riebeck drifted over to stand next to Ingram Bledsoe. "She is good?"

"Oh, yes. For her age and the amount of study she had before the Ring of Fire, she's very good. And she has the potential, the talent, to be as good as they come. She's right, there's a lot she doesn't know, but even so I'd bet she knows more than anyone except Marcus Wendell, the school band director.

Experience, he's ahead of her, but knowledge . . . she's probably not far behind him even now. She'd absorbed everything the piano and voice teachers here in Grantville could teach her a few years before the Ring, and was studying with teachers in Morgantown." He smiled in satisfaction. "Yes, she's good.

She even has perfect pitch."

"She is . . ." he stopped, muttered in German, then called out, "Friedrich!" When his son-in-law stepped over, he spoke rapidly in German. Friedrich nodded, and said, "Strong-willed." Master Hans turned back to Ingram and raised his eyebrows.

Ingram laughed, but didn't say anything.

"A good match for our Franz, then." Riebeck nodded. "So."

With the air of a man who's settled his mind about something, the craftmaster marched over to the piano