Minuet in G

The music teacher was a tiny man, not much taller than the girls at Miss Porter's themselves but he had an air of authority about him that brooked no nonsense. In her initial interview with Pappy, the headmistress had discovered that Regina had learned to play the spinet and had done so for several years. Since Pappy was willing to pay the additional fee for lessons, Regina came to the music room three days a week and sat, with a handful of other girls and practiced on a cardboard keyboard. There was only one piano, an old ornate instrument with a rich, lustrous sound. Regina took turns with Mr. Abrams and the other girls playing it, but the chords reached deep inside her and she felt freed by the music -- when she managed to play it correctly.

The girls were allowed to come into the music room and practice. The students had to sign up and leave the room as they'd found it, but they could play for an hour with no distractions and no interruptions. Regina found herself practicing more and more often. The simple etudes and bacarolles she'd learned from her Gran soon gave way to longer and more complex pieces. Mr. Abrams was delighted with her progress and encouraged her obsession.

Regina was sight reading a new piece, Mozart's Minuet in G a little haltingly when the door to the sunlit room opened and Mr. Abrams entered. He sat, without speaking, behind her and simply listened. When Regina had finished her run-through, he applauded lightly and smiled as she turned to him.

"Very nicely done," he said. "You've never played that piece before, have you?"

"N- no, I found it in the piano bench. It looked like I might be able to play it..." Regina's voice trailed off. She didn't want to sound egotistical by saying any more.

Then another thought occurred to her. "Did I overstay my time, Mr. Abrams?"

"No, child, nothing like that. I've come to see you about something entirely different, Regina," the music teacher replied. He ran a heavily veined hand through his sparse gray hair and smiled at her. "You've been progressing quite well in your piano. Practicing a great deal. Quite motivated, I must say. I've noticed you're dedicated and your ear is very good. You can use more work on your fingerings and on the dynamics, but overall, I think you have a measure of talent, my dear Regina."

Regina could feel a flush rising on her cheeks but bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from speaking aloud and breaking the spell of whatever was happening.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in taking more lessons, Regina? I know it would take up your free time, but you should pursue your gifts." Mr. Abrams smiled, a warm kind of paternal smile and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. " There would be no additional charge, of course. Just allow this old man the joy of having a truly talented student once again, please. It would be my honor to work with you -- if you would like to?"

Regina released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and slumped slightly on the hard wooden piano bench. This seemed too good to be true. She'd lost everyone she cared about, she was thousands of miles from home, and she missed Kentucky so much her heart ached. Could this be a real offer? Something to pour her heartaches and sorrow into, something to help her forget, at least for a short time, the losses she'd suffered?

Unable to speak, Regina simply nodded.

Mr. Abrams clapped his hands together once again. "Good, good. I'll talk to Miss Porter about your schedule, but we can start tomorrow if you like, Regina."

He rose and walked over to sit beside Regina on the piano bench. He looked at the sheet music and pointed, "This section here should be more allegro, fuller. Do you think you can try it again and this time, use all of that emotion you have inside, Regina. Use it. That's the best thing to do -- get it out and make it into something productive.

"Now, from the beginning..." and he counted off the beat. Regina quickly scanned the page again and poised her hands over the keys, prepared to begin.