The Quartet            by: Heidi

 

The change-rooms backstage were literally buzzing with excitement. The visiting Montpelier Quartet had just completed the last of the cycle of Beethoven’s quartets here in Vancouver and it had been a huge success. There were several members of the media interviewing the Quartet. Then one reporter noticed the teddy bear mascot on the dressing table. It looked so cute with "M Q" boldly embroidered on its little T-shirt.

"That’s a neat mascot. I’m sure it must have a story associated with it?" he asked in typical reporter fashion, fishing for that extra bit of interest-grabbing information.

"Strange that you should ask that now. Yes, it has a story! The mascot is very dear to us. If you have time, I’ll tell you," replied the cellist.

"Oh, please do!"

"It happened when we first performed Beethoven’s quartets in Vancouver exactly ten years ago. Well, on the opening night we noticed a lady and her daughter in the front row. The daughter was a charming young girl, oh about ten or eleven, I guess. She was clearly so enthralled by the music! She sat forward in her seat and her eyes glowed! At the end of every piece she would sit up and applaud with tremendous feeling. Such appreciation is really a boost for the performers."

"Then at the next performance, there they were again in the front row! Well - they came to every performance. Such a rapport developed between us that we ended up playing virtually only for them - it was marvelous. When we got backstage after the final performance, there she was waiting for us with her mother. She thanked us from her heart and said that she was going to miss us so much, and wished she could go with us. Instead, she had taken her teddy and embroidered our initials on it. She wanted us to take him so that she would in that way, always be with us. Needless to say there was not a dry eye anywhere."

"But that’s beautiful!" replied the reporter. "Would you mind if I wrote about it?"

"No, of course not."

 

Cathy Miller sat quietly as she watched her son practice. The cello music filled the room bringing a certain peacefulness with it. The sun was shining on his fine blond hair and gave it a sheen almost like a halo. He was such a beautiful child, she thought to herself. It was not that she did not love her other two sons but she had much more in common with John. He was the only one who also loved classical music.

"If only he had been ...." Cathy mused half-aloud. "No, I mustn’t think that." At least all her children were healthy and strong. She had a lot to be thankful for.

This thought had often come to the surface but she would firmly push it right back to her subconscious mind. She had been very disappointed when her last child turned out to be another boy. She had so much hoped for a daughter that she been looking forward to ever since she was still a little girl herself. But she had since resigned herself to living a lonely life in a house where all the talk would be about cars, fishing and sport. Fortunately, John turned out to be a gentle child who shared her love for music and art.

"That was beautiful John. But I guess I need to go and make the supper."

"OK Mom. I’ll come down in a mo and lay the table."

 

For Cathy the supper was just another typical supper in the Miller home. No matter how much time she spent preparing, the guys would gulp it down as if they had a train to catch. In a sense that was true because they couldn’t wait to get to the TV. The two older boys were arguing about who was the better basketball player. Her husband was browsing through the entertainment section of the newspaper to see what was on the television that evening.

"Hey listen to this, John. Here is a piece about a group who is coming to Vancouver soon and they will be playing your Beethoven stuff!" said Mr. Miller.

John’s eyes lit up: "Really Dad? Who are they? What will they play?"

"It says here that it’s the, umm, Montpelier Quartet. They will be playing the complete cycle of Beethoven’s quartets. Say, I didn’t know this Beethoven guy could ride a cycle!" replied Mr. Miller with big grin.

"Oh that’s fantastic! Will you take us Dad? Please!" begged John, blissfully unaware that his father was having him on again.

"You must be kidding! At $20 a seat? I could go to four ball games for that. Besides I’m broke - you know I had to have our car repaired this month."

With that Mr. Miller continued reading his paper. To him the matter was closed. But Cathy could see how terribly disappointed John was. Being able to go would like a dream come true for him. She watched him take the newspaper after his father had finished, and carefully cut out the article.

Over the next few days John was very quiet and withdrawn. Cathy could really feel for her son. She wondered if there was just some way ....... Suddenly the idea struck her with such clarity that she was quite taken aback!

"I am being totally ridiculous", she chided herself, "I must be crazy to think that!"

This time she could not suppress the thought. It just kept coming to the surface at the most unexpected moments. She caught herself a few times actually thinking through the details.

That afternoon while she was watching John practice again, it somehow just came out as if driven by some deep desire. Which, of course, it was.

"I was thinking that I might know of a way that we could go to see the Montpelier Quartet, John. Would you like that?"

John nearly fell off his little stool. "Oh wow, you know I’d love that, Mom. I’d do anything to be able to go."

Cathy liked that response - "anything". In an almost evil way she could already sense victory. But she did not expect anything like what she was about to discover.

"Weeell, for some time I have been putting aside a little of my housekeeping money every month for a rainy day. I could use some of that ...... but I would want you to do something for me." replied Cathy as she watched her son closely.

John jumped up, ran to his mother and hugged her tightly. "Will you, Mother? Really? Oh, thank you, thank you! But what is it you want me to do? I’ll do anything."

Cathy replied slowly: "You know that I love you very much, but that I’ve always wanted a daughter?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Well, it would make me so happy if you went as my daughter. I have always dreamed how I would go to concerts with my daughter." There it was out! Cathy could not believe that she actually said it and regretted it immediately.

"You mean I would have to dress up like a girl?" asked John incredulously.

"Oh I’m sorry. Look, I know it was silly of me to even think that. Let’s just forget I suggested it. I don’t know what came over me," Cathy replied with genuine remorse.

"But Mother! I would love to do that for you," replied John with urgency in his voice.

It took a moment before Cathy registered what he had said. She was totally taken by surprise. "What? You would do that for me?" And then came the bombshell.

With tears starting to swell up in his eyes, John replied in a whisper: "I’d love that more than anything, Mother. I’ve always wanted to be a girl rather than a boy. I always pray at night that I might wake up one morning and find that I am a girl!"

Cathy held her son tightly. She had not expected that at all! For a long while they just sat there like that, with John crying softly. It was clear to Cathy that it was a great emotional relief for him to have said that. But what now?

"There now, I love you even more than always. Sit up and let’s talk about it," said Cathy as she gently forced John to look up.

"Will I get to wear a beautiful evening dress like the ladies in the picture on the Mozart record cover?" asked John, giving a huge sigh and a sniff, but eyes all lit up with excitement.

Involuntarily Cathy was caught up in the excitement. "Why no, John. Those are evening wear for older women. But we will make something as beautiful but more for your age." She had already rehearsed in mind many times the kind of dress she would make.

"Oh yes, we are going to sew it ourselves? Can I help Mother?"

"Of course, John, you always help when I sew. But I guess I should call you Joan now, shouldn’t I?" replied his mother teasingly. "Why don’t we go to town right now and select the pattern and the fabric!"

John blushed deeply on being called Joan. Cathy couldn’t understand the rush of excitement that she was feeling. She suppressed the thought that somehow it had to be wrong. She took John by the hand and they walked towards the garage, chatting away like two excited teenagers - which in a way they were.

As they were driving to town, Cathy was going over all the things she would have to arrange before the Big Night.

"You know, Joan?" she started, just loving how that made him blush. It made them giggle. "You look so cute when you blush! Anyway, I was thinking that you will need to practice being a girl before that evening, you know, how to walk and how to sit and so on. So we had better make a few dresses then you can wear them in the afternoons when you do your cello practice. What do you think?"

John was bubbling over with excitement. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and could only manage: "Ooooh!"

They spent a beautiful afternoon in the department store choosing patterns, fabrics, and buying all the other things that would be needed. That afternoon, the primordial bond between them that had suppressed for so long, asserted itself in a new way that clearly would endure forever....

 

The reporter scribbled some notes on her pad and then turned back to the cellist: "Do you know what happened to them? I assumed you stayed in contact?"

"Actually no, we did not stay in contact. In all the emotions of that evening we had forgotten to ask her address! I only remembered that her name was Joan," replied the cellist. "But did you notice the young lady I was hugging as you came in?"

The reporter nodded: "The one with the long black evening dress? Yes. She left just after we came in. Quite attractive - who is she?"

"When we got backstage after tonight’s encore, she was waiting here for us," continued the cellist. "She asked if I remembered her. I was embarrassed and had do confess that I did not. That really made her smile. Well, you won’t believe it, it was the very Joan of ten years ago that I have been telling you about! Believe me, what a pleasant surprise it’s been for all of us!

 

Heidi Mueller

 

 

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