The violinist

Palms sweaty, anxious red eyes bulging out of their sockets. His pulse was a racing metronome, each beat more erratic than the last. As each eyeball slowly gained the courage to survey the room, each wall seemed to be getting longer, each drooping face another dagger through his withdrawn soul. But still his mind willed him on. The jeers had continued for several seconds now but felt long enough to almost allow his ears to become immune to them! This was in fact an individual to whom the loneliness of the stage was no more a fright; his years growing up as an orphan had taught him much about mental strength and character.

But then his ears shot up.

“Give up and get a proper day job” chuckled a heckler, “though it was a good laugh at least mate!”

Those cold, icy words were enough; no more than a joking remark had been expelled harmoniously into the orchestra of disapproving chants but it was enough. Too often had he heard such words, too often from those close to him. It echoed the last words of his wife, to whom he was so devout, as she left him for riches and dreams.

The grip of passion and iron will on his violin finally failed as it tumbled violently towards the floor. His eyes shut. A teardrop rushed down his pale cheeks almost racing to cushion the fall of the violin, but in vain. A string snapped on impact sending out one final note , only to be met by ironic cheers. He quickly picked up his items, packed up and scurried towards the exit door. Exchanging only glances with the doormen, Tim stormed out in a smog ridden haze of re-energised door dust. But to him, simply a blur!

Raised in a communal foster home, Timothy always showed self resolve and determination. Whilst one couldn’t say his upbringing was hostile, he always understood that he was on his own and built his shield on the same. This inevitably created a rather stubborn and focused boy, whose passion for music superseded his need for popularity; indeed he was more than satisfied perfecting solo symphonies whilst his peers revelled in each other’s companionship. Fortunately, as Tim graciously moved through adolescence, the flower of his confidence towards others slowly blossomed, gently locking away his old defensive self to become far more a loveable character. With promise of a successful musical career and a seemingly loving marriage, Tim no longer lived under the orphan’s glass ceiling or so would seem.

A chilling breeze gnawed through his coat only to be greeted by the chattering of Tim’s coat. He glanced back slowly at the door that he had just exited, finally ready to turn his back on a life he so thirstily craved. No more marching towards the lush green horizon – a white dwarf remnant accepting of its fate having blazed gloriously only to collapse catastrophically under its own self.

His eyed peered forward, a long winding yet dark path appeared. Its meandering path concealed its mystical secrets beckoning the curious rambler with every hiss of the wind. Tim slowly stumbled forward, kicking the rocks from side to side. His eyes gazed at the floor beneath him, interrupted by brief upward glances towards the stars. Only the irritated screech of a squirrel dodging one of his wandering kicked stones could reawaken him from his machine state, even bringing out a small chuckle. This however would remain brief. The slow dragging of feet continued as the clogs fired up again to lifelessly wander through his own thoughts of limbo.

Wondering what could have been with every step, Tim began questioning his own self resolve and whether this in itself was his downfall. He couldn’t help but playback memories of countless arguments he had engaged in with his wife and friends about finally packing in his dream and acquiring that job. The offers passed him by and even considered a few. But he had a good feeling about this concert. Sure he only had a few minutes to impress behind the main act, but he had a good feeling.

With this thought the monotonous look gradually began to wear off; his face becoming a less pale shade to resemble a calm figure.

“Can’t blame it on the nerves anymore” muttered Tim to himself whilst gently shaking his head.

What seemed like an eternity had passed since Tim had left the auditorium but he finally began taking an interest into his surroundings. Looking around properly, an electric jolt crept up and down his arms as he realised he was deep into a dark, unfamiliar alley; his new found carelessness though overriding his rational apprehension. The road itself was littered with cracked pathways and puddles filling into them, catching the dim streetlights to paint disfigured rainbows on the road. Rotting furniture could be seen lining the sides, narrowing the alley further. Perched above such an old sofa, Tim spotted two curious looking green lights floating above. He peered towards them to be greeted by the hiss of a stray cat, its black fur camouflaged perfectly, almost as if to ambush and ward away unwanted visitors.

“No-one’s been here in a while then. Even God’s probably deserted this bloody wasteland!” commented Tim rather loudly to himself confident that no other soul would hear him in this derelict area. Almost instantaneously, this was followed by a shriek as the alley’s stray cat suddenly jumped off and hurried in the opposite. A look of general confusion appeared on Tim’s face, but quickly disappeared as the event rather fitted into his opinion of the road he was walking through.

Walking further on aimlessly just for self-satisfaction, Tim continued to notice the derelict nature of the alley but somewhat now felt less threatened and apprehensive, realising there was nobody else around to do him harm. He almost felt he was king of the hill, a derelict hill but the king nonetheless – a rather large contradiction to his earlier feelings.

Peering further ahead, he did though notice a blazing streetlight in the distance, cutting through the darkness like a laser beam. As he approached, he noticed a peculiar looking man sleeping underneath the light. His long white beard was far too nicely groomed to be that of a rough sleeper. Bizarrely even his hair was neatly combed with glimmering, polished black shoes and a red jacket baring no marks whatsoever. It was almost as if he had fallen out of the sky and landed in the wrong part of town.

“Are you ok there sir?” Tim asked the mysterious man, gently raising his voice to awaken him. The man gently opened his eyes and followed it with a beautiful smile; his teeth reflecting the light almost in unison to create a halo around his mouth.

“Why hello there young one. Just fell asleep on my walk through to meet a son of mine” continued the man, “Gerry O’Drake’s the name by the way”. He extended his hand forward with a look of benevolence on his face, one which immediately gave Tim the feeling he could trust him.

“Oh hi there! Its Tim” he said and just before he was about to continue, he was surprised by Gerry’s acknowledging look, one which suggested this was no news to him. He paused to take a breath.

“Mr O’Drake, what’s further on then. I’m guessing ya probably know whats going on further ahead if your son lives there, anywhere I could get a quick bite of summat?” inquired the younger Tim.

“Got a few of my sons down there to be honest.” Gerry chuckled to Tim’s growing confusion. But here that’s a nice piece there” said Gerry looking at Tim’s violin case, ignoring the question posed to him.

The man moved towards, who without being able to explain why felt compelled to hand over the violin to his new found stranger. He clicked open the latch to expose the violin with a broken string so badly in shape, even a layman would be horrified to see it. But despite this, the man picked it up expertly in a position ready to play demonstrating a familiarity only a man could have with his own possessions. Tim expected him to reject it on the basis that it was clearly in need of repair.

“May I? It’s been a while since I last picked one of these things up” asked Gerry politely with a hint of nostalgia. Tim nodded agreeably wondering only how awful a sound he was about to hear. Gerry looked at the instrument, gazing at the strings before crudely flicking them as if to swat away some dust. He took another quick inspection before raising the bow.

What seemed like simple brushes of the strings at most produced a most heavenly sound, worthy of even the heights of Zeus’ court. So taken aback by the beauty of what was flowing through the air, Tim himself had forgotten the broken string and could be only transfixed in pure delight. He felt as though he was almost levitating to the power of the melody. It was truly divine in nature. But rather abruptly Gerry stopped to hand the violin back to its owner as reality dawned back onto Tim.

“Wow!” exclaimed Tim, lost for words and for some odd reason, lost for breath. “I almost felt like you took me up to the heavens or something” Tim went on trying to be as eloquent as his demeanour would allow him to be.

“Glad I could take you there” replied Gerry cheekily, grinning all the way. “My kids tend to all love my music, glad you did too, which reminds me I better head off.” Offering only a gracious smile and warm handshake, Gerry took off at once, almost hurrying and quickly blending into the darkness of the night sky.

Not knowing what to think or say at the last few minutes, Tim could do nothing more than shrug his shoulders. He was a puppet in his own life, finally handed back the reigns. After a long pause taken to reclaim his thoughts, Tim remembered his broken string. He pulled out the violin and to his astonishment; it was no longer in dire straits but rather in immaculate condition. Both excited and almost scared, he was like a kitten seeing snowflakes for the first time. Instinct almost took over as he too placed the violin near his chin and raised his bow. What flowed out mesmerised a joyous Tim, who’s musicianship seemed to have hit new heights. It made no sense. But, to Tim it no longer needed to.