XPLR | Colby Brock

Little Red Riding Hood

I walked onto the stage. Fifth performer. An hour into the show.

My white dress, the one my mother wore for her final big performance when she was seventeen, nineteen years ago. She had just found out she was pregnant.

My long brown hair bounced behind me, and I pushed my nerves down as the lights shown on my face. Will they see?

Colby is out there somewhere, watching me. There's no telling who else has gained an interest in short girl with small hands, bringing her everything to the table.

I lower the piano bench a little so I can sit comfortably. It was so quiet in the auditorium, I could hear myself breathing. Breathe slower. You got this. I told myself.

Quietly slipping my heels off so I could press the pedals a little easier, I gently place my hands over the cold keys. Silence, again.

You need something to chase, like the wolf in the story.

Little Red Riding Hood. My dreams in music.

My white painted nails glistened in the bright lights of the stage, and with a sharp breath in, I lift my hands up and begin to play the keys, bending down over them a little. Emotion. Emotion. What am I feeling?

Who cares? Just let whatever happens happen. I don't care. Even if nothing comes of this, at least I can remember the day I played the piano in my mother's dress.

My hair fell over my shoulder, and in a swift move I nod it back. I should've pulled it up. Stupid girl.

The voice in my head said. The malicious one. The one who doesn't want me to have times like these. No life changing moments.

You'll never amount to anything.

You're doomed to be a nobody and live a boring life. No one will remember you when you're gone.

You really thought you could make your mother proud.

Wrong note.

No, that's not true. She is proud of me.

Wrong note.

Calm down, Rose. You're rushing. You're rushing. You're rushing.

Sweat beaded down my face, my eyes opened wide and not blinking. I can't miss this.

Is this one of those moments you never realize until it's gone? You never realize that this moment, here and now, is the moment that will change your life?

And when you try your hardest to remember every details, the way it sounds, the way it smells, the way you feel, but none of it comes back.

My playing slowed, and my breathing went back to normal. In, two, three, four... out, two, three four..To the tempo.

My hands danced across the keys, my senses overrun by everything. It all felt so loud, the smell of wood overwhelmed me, every time my fingertip touched a key, it tingled all the way up my arm.

Can they feel it?

Will it reach them?

Is there a girl in the auditorium, a young girl who loves piano just as I did, listening with all of her mind, to the story I'm telling.

The notes traveled up and downs, throwing them to each of my hands, the wolf is running.

Is Colby sitting in his seat, sweating as much as I am now? Is anyone in their seats, sweating as I am now?

Are they watching the way I move, the way I pound my hands on the keys for every accent and soften them.

Three-fourths.

Momma...

A young voice in my head cried. I've replayed that memory over and over and over in my head. I'd never forget that voice.

Rose. Fourteen. She cries, tugging on the body of her mother. Please come back, Momma, I'm sorry. Please come back, please hug me, please tell me you forgive me. Please please please please please please-

Focus, Rose.

Tears threatened to fall.

Momma, if you could hear me now.

She would be so proud.

I moved back a little bit, leaning my back up straight as my hands moved across the keys. I remember every single note and every single rhythm, I practiced this so many times.

I stared into the lights, letting them blind me as everything around me disappeared. Now, it's just me and this piano, and the sound I'm making. The emotions I'm telling. The love for what I do and who taught me what it means to be a musician.

Accent.

I'm back in. I lean back over the keys and ignore the ritardando, I never liked it anyway. Speed up. Speed up. Speed up.

The chase is coming to a close. By the end of the concert, I will have my prize. No matter what that is.

Tears fell from my eyes on to the keys but I didn't care. I played and played and played.

Careful, Rosie. You don't want people to think you're mad at the piano.

But I am! I am! How can you love something so much but hate it all at the same time? If it hadn't been for piano, my mother would still be here, she'd still be here! I could tell her about the wonderful friends I've made and the boy who always wants to see me...

Piano didn't take me away, darling.

Yes it did, yes it did... yes it did...

It keeps me alive in you, my beautiful daughter.

I look up suddenly, the voice sounded close. In a box seat, there she was. An angel.

She and I do look alike. She didn't say anything, but her long hair fell down her shoulders and I stared, my hands still moving.

She smiled at me, muttered something I couldn't  hear, and just like that, she was gone.

Am I hallucinating?

Six of my fingers held down a cord, and I stared at the white and black keys in my hands. Momma....

I sat for a moment, the room was dead silent. Two tears at a time fell out of my eyes. I am numb. But at the same time, I'm feeling every feeling in the world.

And before I even remembered where I was, thunderous applause erupted in the auditorium. I flinched at the loud noise and slowly turned my head to look over.

Standing ovation.

I smiled. I didn't even mean to smile, I just smiled so wide I couldn't even stop. I stood up, tears still flowing out of my eyes as I waved.

My dear Rose, I'm so proud to be your mother. I love you, so much.