Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: MUSIC (04/02/20)
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TITLE: A Deaf Uncle | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
04/05/20 -
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“I hear the old man left this poor child to the guardianship of Ludwig,” muttered a woman overhead as if he wasn’t even in the room. “How is a forty-five-year-old celibate going to care for an orphan? Especially when he’s going deaf.”
The glowering eyes hovered over him. “You think this orphan is going deaf?”
The buxom protector pressed her hands hard against his skull, slightly above his ears. “No, I said Ludwig. Are you going deaf yourself?”
The man covered his own ears. “Sorry, the piano started. Who is that playing?”
The crowd surged into a compact mass like sardines bundled into a net. “That’s the uncle. Ludwig. He’s from Belgium you know.”
The man pushed back and formed a small sanctuary for the woman and the boy. “I just came from the Russian front where Napoleon is in full retreat and all that banging sounds like I’m back in the battle.”
A quick elbow from the woman to the soldier’s mid-riff raised a grunt. “It’s a wonder they let you in among the civilized. He was taught by Haydyn and Salieri you know. Even Mozart was impressed when he heard him in Vienna.”
Another voice interrupted. “He stretches the limits of emotion and bends every rule of the classics. I’m not sure anyone can teach him.”
The soldier snatched a goblet of wine from a passing tray. “What good has he done for this world?”
The woman smirked. “I heard he wrote his third symphony in honour of your man Bonaparte until the little man declared himself as emperor.”
The boy squeezed through several legs and hips to get closer to the mesmerizing music resonating through the room. His uncle had been entertaining the family as long as he could remember.
“What happened to the boy’s mother?” The voice filtered through a pianissimo section. “It seems odd to will the child to a brother.”
“She’s a ‘queen of the night’ according to Ludwig. Fancies herself a trophy of the chivalrous sorts. Plays and parties are her world.”
An elbow connected against his jaw. “Sorry, lad. Wonder if I’ve met her? Her name’s Johanna, right?”
“Never mind her, look who’s standing by the piano.”
“Who is it?” A bearded chin jutted in the direction of a quartet of violins assembling around a lean aristocrat with piercing eyes. Curls nestled around his ears like squirrels in hibernation.
“It’s Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. He’s a poet, novelist, artist, critic and playwright. I hear Ludwig’s been putting some of his work to music.”
The boy crawled through the last legs and stood near his guardian. Ludwig turned and a glint in his eye joined the smile on his face. “Come, come, Karl,” he beckoned. “For you and the good Lord above, I will compose music for the ages. We must get you the best teachers so you can carry the baton of this marvellous discipline.”
“Uncle,” Karl spoke up. “Why have you never found a woman to help you create a son for yourself?”
Ludwig raised his eyebrows and scanned the crowd nearby. Turning toward Goethe he said “Little does the boy know I have a love which may never be returned. Even this week I have written a letter declaring my heart. Now, all I need is the nerve to send it.”
Facing Karl, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Son, from the time I could crawl my father put me before a keyboard and filled my head with music. She is my one true love.” He placed his hands on the keyboard and let the music grow. “She grabs my deepest emotions and transports them into union with the creator of all emotion. That is what I live for and that is what I hope you will one day also learn to love.”
Karl nodded and backed away from the guardian whose heart had been taken. Looking toward the chaplain he raised his chin and walked as stiffly as a soldier. “I am yours,” he said, “until I am God’s.”
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