The white dog dream woke me up. Why would a white dog be so disturbing? The big dog reminded of Ms. Jardin, my piano teacher. Her cruel ruler hit my fingers when I ventured to the black keys. She had white hair and pale lips.
"You're not ready for the black keys yet!" she stormed. The ruler's flat side rapped me again. I was tired of the torment, and the lesson was over. Thirty minutes felt like hours.
When I sank into the car seat, I turned to my mother. "Mama," I said, "Ms. Jardin hit my fingers with a ruler." Mother was silent, frowning. Had I done the right thing to tell her? The Jardin family were friends of Papa's. Would he be angry?
Mama released a sigh. "I'll find you another teacher," she said. "No one should hit you when you play the piano. You always practice without being told. You love playing." She looked at me and smiled gently. "I'm glad you told me," she said. Relief flooded through me. I had been honest, and she wasn't angry.