Harmony

 Harmony

A Short Work of Fiction by Selina De Luca

Written in 2013

     There was something about that sheet of music that frightened me.  After only a few moments of looking for a melody beneath the fog of dread, I hid it away – buried it under a pile of dusty spell books in a chest in the darkest corner of the attic.  The wind that night banged so violently on my window I was certain something powerful and dangerous was trying to get in.  Sarafina always said that we were hiding away in this house because the world outside was so dangerous.  She also always told me to sing whenever I was afraid and it would all go away, so I did, and soon forgot about the dangerous world outside and the sheet of music in the attic.  

     I was ten years old then, half-blind and ugly, living in a hidden house alone with my Russian Blue cat Sarafina and a world of music.  This world belonged to someone else before me, but I knew I was allowed to live in it.  Between the piano, harp, and violin, thousands of handwritten scattered sheets of music lay across the floor.  I painstakingly deciphered each one, and in the seven years that followed I never again came across another piece that frightened me.

     “You sound like your mother when you play,” Sarafina would always say.

     “Tell me about her,” I would beg, knowing nothing of my mother or my past, but she never did.  I immersed myself in the music; the deeper I went, the further I could escape from the unanswered questions of an unknown past.

     One day when I was playing a piece I had written, Sarafina said, “did you make that up? Sounds like something your mother always played.”

     “Please,” I said, “can’t you tell me more about my mother?”

     At her usual response, I turned back to the piano and exploded into a torrent of angry, confused chords.  Who was I, and why was I a prisoner in this strange house?

     “What is the matter with you?” Sarafina asked.

     “What’s the matter with you?” I snapped back.  “You won’t tell me anything.  You once told me that one day we would return to what we were before, but I have never known what exactly wewere before.  I have never been beyond the front walkway.  And what is so dangerous about the world beyond? How many times must I ask before I get an answer?”

     Sarafina sighed.  “My child, you will –”

     “Don’t say that I will learn in good time, don’t you dare.” 

     “Harmony –”

     I stormed out of the room with the violin in tow, and went out to the front garden to play.  My music said what words could not; the frustration, the questions, the longing for a life beyond what I knew.  I played furiously, wildly – then suddenly I froze in horror, bow mid-air.  That piece.  I had begun to play that horrid melody, the one I had buried in the attic years ago.  How in the world had that come to mind?

     “Harmony?”

     “Go away, you dumb cat.”

     “Harmony, come inside.”

     Her voice was calm but something in her tone alarmed me.

     “Harmony!”

     I saw the bushes rustle as though a large animal was about to emerge and I ran inside, not knowing what I had shut behind me just in time.

~

     “Too far, too soon… my little one, come home.”

     I wasn’t sure, most of the time, if the songs I wrote were my own or from my memories.  I spent the long summer days alone in the house or the garden, for no invisible force held Sarafina captive, and I played and sang, and wove my dreams together with pieces of melodies.

     It was on such a summer day as this that I saw a figure outside.  Startled, I went to the window.  Nobody had ever found their way here before.  To my great surprise there was a man – a real man! – standing outside my house.  I had never seen a real man before, only pictures in books.  I watched him stand for a moment as though stunned, then kneel down by the roses and begin digging in the dirt.  Puzzled, I went outside.

     “Good day sir,” I said.

     “Oh!” he cried, jumping up and holding his hat to keep it from blowing away.  “I beg your pardon.”

     “Sorry if I startled you,” I said. “Are you looking for something?”

     “As a matter of fact, yes.”

     “What?”

     “Something buried in your garden,” he said.  “So it was you then?”

     I cocked my head. 

     “The music.  I heard a violin.”

     “Ah. Yes,” I said.  “I play violin, piano, and harp, and I sing.”

     “Is that so?” he said, looking at me strangely.  “I had no idea anyone lived here.  I wasn’t sure I’d even find a house here at all.  Have you lived here long?”

      “All my life, that I can remember,” I replied.

     “Interesting.  May I take a look inside?”

     He made for the door, but stopped abruptly, as though he had hit a wall.  He made to move again and went nowhere.  A look of alarm crossed his face.

     “It’s magic,” I told him, “and it is not controlled by me.  It appears you won’t ever enter the house, just as I shall never leave it.”

     “What do you mean?” he asked, startled.

     “Exactly this,” and I tri    ed to walk out to the trees.  Partway there, I stopped.  I continued to move, but it was as though someone were pulling me back from behind.  “No further, see?”

 “Yes.  I see.  That is very interesting,” he said.  “Do you live here alone?”

     “No, I live with Sarafina. She’s a cat.”

     “But otherwise alone?”

     “Yes.  Sarafina brought me up. She’s out getting my supper now.”

     “I’m sorry?”

     “She said she would be back shortly.”

     “She… your cat talks?”

     I could tell he thought I was making some kind of strange joke.

     “Yes,” I said.  “If you don’t believe me, try walking into my house again.  If I can have an enchanted house, I can have an enchanted cat.”

     He looked at me like he was assessing a creature from another world, but without the slightest trace of fear, only interest.

     “So…” he said after a moment, “if you don’t control the magic… who does?”

     “I don’t actually know. Sarafina might.”

     “This is so very fascinating,” he said.  “The legend is perhaps true then, after all.”

     “Legend?” I repeated. “What legend?” 

     He took a step closer and lowered his voice.

     “Have you got anything buried in your garden?”

     “No, not that I know of,” I said.  Except for what I had put there myself, but I hadn’t seen anything else when I was digging there.

     “Well, no matter,” he shrugged.  “It’s just a story.  Anyway, I should be going.”

     “Already?” I cried.  Being the first person I had ever met, I wasn’t ready to see him leave.

     “Yeah,” he said.  “It was nice meeting you – uh…”

     “I’m Harmony,” I said.  He smiled, a beautiful smile.

     “What a nice name,” he said.  “I’m Arion.

     He bowed, then walked out to where I could not follow.  I watched him go before going back inside.  The music that came from the violin now was beautiful and glad.  If Sarafina noticed how light my heart was when she returned home, she didn’t comment.  She seemed only to silently disapprove somehow.

     “Sarafina,” I said that evening, “do you think I will ever get out of here, and go beyond the garden, to the town or something?”

     Sarafina shrugged.

     “Someday, perhaps.”

     “I don’t want to live here anymore.”

     “It’s not safe out there.”

     “Why not?”

     “Because.  Look, dear, don’t worry about it.  It isn’t safe for me even to speak of it.  Someday you’ll understand, I promise.  Someday soon.”

     “How soon is soon?”

     “Probably at least before you are twenty.”

     Twenty! I thought, but said nothing. 

     Summer turned to autumn before Arion paid me a second visit.  It hadn’t occurred to me at first that I might never see him again, and I had just begun to fear he would never find his way back when I heard his voice behind me in the garden.

     “Harmony.”

     I jumped up with a cry of delight.

     “Arion!”

     “Did you find it?” he asked.

     “What?”

     “The thing hidden in your garden.”

     “What thing?”

     He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s just a story.” He stepped closer to the garden bed and cupped the head of a rose in his hands.  

     “This is a really nice garden,” he said.

     “It is, isn’t it?  It’s always been here, since before I came.”

     Arion brought his nose to the flower.

     “I have never touched a rose before,” he said.  “I’ve never seen any of this before.”

     “Really?” I said, shocked.

     “Really. We’ve suffered drought ever since I can remember.  Nothing grows now.”  He looked at me.  “That’s in the legend too.”

     “Oh,” I said.  “Well, I have never seen another person in my life, before you.”

     “Really?”

     “Yes.”

     He continued to examine the flowers for a moment before he said,

     “I think you should hear the story that brought me here.” He glanced at me.  “The king’s son sent me here.  Chasing a legend.”

     The king’s son! I thought.

     “Would you like to hear it?”

     “Yes.”

     I led him to the wooden bench.

     “So,” he began. “People don’t talk much about this story, though everyone knows it.  I didn’t believe it was real, but I didn’t expect to actually find… well, anything. Not the house, and definitely not you.  According to the story, there once was a couple that lived here, in this house, or in a house in this location, just outside the town.  The wife sang and wrote beautiful music, and her music was a kind of magic that made the kingdom prosperous.

     “One day – now, this is just a story, see – but one day, a sorcerer came who wanted the kingdom for himself, and who was jealous of the lady’s music.  When she refused to weave her magic for him instead of our king, he killed her and her husband.  They had a baby, who escaped with her nurse.”

     “Who’s out there?”

     Sarafina’s voice from inside, loud and sharp, startled me.  

     “Sarafina, don’t worry, it’s just my friend.”

     “Your what?”

     “My friend.  I am allowed to have a friend, of course.”

     “Harmony, come inside.”

     I looked at Arion.

     “Maybe I should leave,” he said.

     “I don’t know what her problem is.”

     “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll see you some other time.”

     I went inside after he was gone, stormed past Sarafina to the piano, and started banging on it.

     “Harmony,” she said.  I ignored her. “Harmony, it isn’t safe for you to interact with people outside, do you understand?”

     “Sarafina, Arion is not dangerous!” I cried, still banging. 

     “How do you know?”

     “Look, whatever’s bothering you doesn’t mean that the whole world is bad!”

     Extremely loud banging.  Sarafina jumped up onto my lap and put a paw on my arms to stop me.

     “Harmony.”

     I pushed her off and walked away.

     Arion came back a few days later, while Sarafina was out.  I went outside and played the violin for him upon his request.  He was beautiful; I didn’t need good eyesight to see that.  I knew I was not very pretty, but that didn’t matter.  I could tell he was happy with me, and I was happy with him.  He told me about the king’s son, the crown prince, and then after a while he said he had to leave.  I was sorry to see him go so soon.  He kissed my hand when he left, and thanked me for the music, and promised to show me something next time he came.

     It wasn’t until he was out of sight that I remembered the unfinished story.

~

     A few mornings later I woke to Sarafina’s voice yelling for me to come quickly.  I ran.  She was just outside, with the door wide open.  There was a small child sleeping on the doorstep, about four years old.

     “What in the world?”

     “I have no idea,” Sarafina responded.  She nudged the child.  “She probably wandered here by accident.  You had better take her in.”

     I brought the child inside and lay her on the couch.  When she awoke, she looked around with interest rather than fear.  I smiled at her as she sat up.

     “What is your name, sweetheart?” I asked.  She shrugged and shook her head.  “How did you get here?”  She shrugged again.  “Did you wander here?  Did you get lost?”  All she did was shrug.

     “Can’t speak, child?” Sarafina said gruffly.  The girl shook her head no. 

     I called her Calypso, “Silent One”, and we took to each other immediately.  Sarafina said she would try to help her get home, but in the meantime she didn’t seem unhappy or homesick at all.  She followed me everywhere and especially loved the garden, where she delighted in drawing pictures in the dirt.

     When Arion came back a few days later, I was outside with Calypso.  

     “And who is this?” he asked.

     “I don’t really know,” I said.  “I call her Calypso.  She can’t speak.  We just randomly found her on our doorstep.”

     “Oh,” he said.  “How odd.”

     “Yes,” I said.  “Well, come join us.  I am glad to see you.”

     “Are you?” he said softly.

     “Yes.  Now, first, you have a story to finish telling me, and second, you said you had something to show me.”

     “Yes,” he said.  “Here, this is what I wanted to show you.”

     He handed me a pencil sketch of a young woman.  She was very sweet looking, and was playing the violin in a garden in front of a small stone house.  The garden was exactly like this one, each rose exactly in the same place, and well-drawn.  The girl’s clothes were like one of my own dresses, and the violin was like mine. But…

     “That isn’t me,” I said.

     “Yes.”

     “No.  Doesn’t look like me.”

     “Really?” he took it back and looked at it, then looked at me.  “I thought it was pretty good.”

     “No.”

     His face fell.  

     “Well, my family doesn’t really like my artwork either,” he said.

     “Oh,” I said, “I like it.  Arion, I love it.  It just doesn’t look like me.  I have seen myself, I am not that pretty.”

     “No, you are prettier.  Hey Calypso, does this look like Harmony?”

     The girl nodded.  I couldn’t help but smile.  The drawing was lovely.  I felt tears come to my eyes, but I was still in denial.

     “I don’t look like that.”

     “Ever looked in a mirror?”

     “Sure I have.”

     “A non-enchanted one?”

     I said nothing, because this hadn’t even ever occurred to me before.  The mirror in the hallway was the only one we had, and it was broken and distorted.

     “Anyway,” Arion said, “the story.”

     He sat down beside me in the grass.  

     “So, the sorcerer killed the couple, and then the nurse ran away with the baby. The nurse wandered around from place to place, and they were pursued by the sorcerer who thought that the child would inherit her mother’s skill.  But he never found them again, and he abandoned the kingdom he had coveted.  But without the lady’s music, the land withered away into a desert.”

     “And then what?”

     “That’s all, except the crown prince says there was a prophetic postscript that said that in the garden at the house something was buried that would unlock the mystery.”

     “Harmony?  Harmony!  Who are you talking to?  Come inside!  Bring Calypso!”

     I furrowed my brow.

     “It’s just my friend Arion.  I don’t want to come inside.”

     “Harmony!”

     “She doesn’t want me here,” Arion said.  “I’ll go.”

     “No, you don’t have to.  She’s not in charge.”

     “No, it’s alright, I’ll go.”

     “No, really, you don’t have to.”

     “I’ll come back another day.”

     “No you won’t,” I heard Sarafina hiss.  “You won’t be coming back here, if I can help it.”

     “Sarafina!” I cried.  “Arion, don’t go.  You just got here.”

     “Bye, Harmony,” he said.  He leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheek, and then he quickly walked away.

     “Sarafina,” I cried, “he is my friend!”

     Sarafina came outside.

     “Harmony,” she said, “I vowed I would protect you with my life.  You are in danger as long as… well, you are in danger, you understand?  I am doing my best.  I’m only trying to protect you.”

     “No I do not understand! Arion is not dangerous.  I have said so before, and I will swear to it!”

     “Harmony, I cannot risk anything.”

     “What about Calypso?  If Arion’s dangerous, so must be she,” I cried.  The child, hearing her name, came and sat in my lap.  My eyes filled with tears.

     “Harmony, you have to trust me.”

     “But, I like Arion.  He’s my friend.”

     “You hardly know him.”

     But I did know him.  I felt I had known him all my life.  I looked at his pencil sketch, titled Harmony, Lady of the Garden.  I wanted to ask Sarafina if it looked like me, but I couldn’t bring myself to show her the picture.  I went inside, followed by Sarafina and Calypso, and went to the harp.  Of the three instruments, I played the harp the least.  I plucked a few notes at random.  

     “What are you protecting me from?” I asked.

     “Play the piece you used to always play on the harp,” Sarafina replied.

     “Which?”

     “The one… wait, I think it’s here.”  She pawed around the music on the floor, and picked up one in her mouth.  I squinted at it, trying to see the little squirming notes.  But the room was dark, and I couldn’t read it.

     “I can’t read it,” I said.  “And I don’t remember which one you’re talking about.”

     “Of course you remember,” she said.  “Try to remember.”

     I searched my mind, but nothing came.  I walked absently to the piano and put my hands on the keys, but nothing came.  Nothing.

     Alarmed, I turned to Sarafina.

     “Something’s wrong with me,” I cried.  “There’s no music in my mind.  There’s nothing.”

     “What do you mean?” asked Sarafina.

     “I don’t know!” I cried, panicked.  “I don’t know!  It’s empty!”  I pressed a few keys.  I couldn’t play, I just couldn’t.  Nothing came.  It was the most horrible, hollow feeling.  I pushed a few more keys, then banged really hard, then put my head down in my arms over the keyboard and burst into tears.

     “Don’t worry, child,” Sarafina said, but her voice was high and anxious, and I knew something was wrong.  Something was really, really wrong.  I fled to my room and collapsed onto my bed, and fell into a net of troubled dreams.

     When I woke the next morning, I felt everything was fine.  I went to the ugly broken mirror in the hall and looked at myself.

     “Everything’s fine,” I told my distorted blurry reflection.  “Everything. Is. Fine.”

     Then I went to the piano and tried to play.  I knew in an instant that everything was not fine.  I tried the violin.  Screech.  Screech.

     “SARAFINA!”  I hollered.  “SARAFINAAA!!”

     No answer.  She wasn’t home.  I went outside, my face wet with tears, and abruptly walked into Arion.  I started crying into his chest.

     “What’s the matter?” he asked.

     “I – can’t – play!” I sobbed. 

     “What do you mean?”

     “I don’t know!  I just… lost all my music.”

     “I don’t understand.”

     “Neither do I!”

     “It’ll come back, I’m sure.”

     “I don’t know.”

     “Hey, what’s that kid doing in the garden?”

     “Drawing in the dirt,” I shrugged, wiping my eyes.

     “No, look!”

     I looked.  She had dug a hole behind the rosebush, and was trying to pull something out.  Arion was there in a second, me right behind.

     “Here, let me help you,” Arion said.  He reached in.  I looked, but I knew already what it was.

     “That is just a key,” I said.  Arion turned to look at me.

     “How do you know?” he asked.

     “Because I put it there.  Sorry to disappoint you, but that is just a key to a chest in the attic.”

     Arion dug around the object, and after a moment he pulled it out.  

     “What’s in the chest?”

     “Nothing,” I said quickly.  He gave me a suspicious look, and I blushed.  “I promise I’m not hiding anything from you.  I put it there myself, so I’m sure it’s not part of your legend.”

     “Can you show me what’s in the chest?” he asked.  I took the key from him and went up to the attic, to the back corner, and unlocked the chest.  I pulled out the spell books one by one, until I got to the very bottom, where that one sheet of music lay.With trembling fingers I picked it up and stared at it.  I could see it clearly.  I looked around me, startled.  I could see.  I could see the dust on top of things.  I could see the cobwebs in the corners.  

     I brought the music downstairs and sat at the piano.  I played the first few measures, but had to stop.  The music was sending chills all over me; I couldn’t stand it.  I turned the paper over and tried to play my own music.  Nothing happened.  Nothing came.

     “That sounded creepy,” Arion’s voice said right behind my ear.

     “You got into the house!” I said, looking at him.  I could see his face clearly.  It was even lovelier than I had thought.

     “Yeah, I did,” he said.

     “Something is wrong.  All the magic is wearing off here.  Sarafina!  SARAFINA!”

     But Sarafina wasn’t there.  I was scared.  She was trying to protect me from something, and now the magic was wearing off while she was gone.  Had she been right about not trusting Arion? No. 

     “Arion,” I said.

     “What?”

     “I need you to take me away,” I kept my voice calm, but my heart was in my throat. I located my dagger.  “Take me somewhere safe and hide me.”

     “Now?”

     “Yes. I have to run.”

     I rushed out to the garden.

     “Calypso!” I cried.  “Calypso, where are you?  Come now!”

     No one came.  I looked at where I had last seen her, digging in the garden.  Her pictures were still etched in the dirt, familiar shapes.  I looked at them.  I bent down to look closer.  I knew these shapes!  Staves, treble clefs, notes – this was music.  

     This… this was the music.

     “It’s the same,” I whispered.  A wave of cold washed over me and I reached for Arion.

     “What’s wrong?” he asked.

     “Let’s go, quickly.”

     “What about Calypso?” he said.  “Calypso!”

     A terrible scream resounded from the side of the house, and the child came tearing around the corner, her eyes wide with terror. 

     “Come on,” I beckoned, my heart pounding, holding my arms out for her.  “We’re going to go somewhere safe.”

     She ran to me, tears streaming down her face.  I expected a great and terrible sorcerer to appear behind her from around house any moment now, and I both wished Sarafina was here and was relieved she wasn’t.

     It took me a second to realize that Calypso hadn’t made it to my arms.  I wasn’t sure what I had just seen – I just stood there and blinked as Arion, who had stepped in front of me at the last second, doubled over Calypso, a knife in his stomach.

     “Harmony,” he gasped.  “Run!”

     At that moment, a magnificent woman with silver hair and shimmering blue-violet robes came around the house.  I screamed and rushed towards her, brandishing my dagger.  

     “HOW DARE YOU!” I shrieked.  “How dare you kill my parents, ruin my life, curse this land, and hurt my friends, you horrible filthy witch!”

     She blocked my dagger easily with a knife of her own and looked at me over our locked blades with pleading grey eyes.

     “Harmony, it’s me,” she said.  “It’s Sarafina.”

     I was so angry and frightened I didn’t hear her at first.

     “What?” I said.

     “Your enemy is there.” 

     She pointed behind me.  I turned to see Arion and Calypso locked together in a deathly embrace.  Arion was bleeding profusely from his knife wound, but he did not let go of the squirming, grunting little Calypso.  He appeared to be trying to strangle her.  I looked back at the woman claiming to be Sarafina.

     “I don’t understand.”

     But an instant later, she had jumped in front of me and I was peeking around her robes watching Arion grapple with a fully grown man.  I tried to go to them, but Sarafina held me back.

     “Harmony. Sing,” she told me.

     “What?”

     “Sing.”

     “Sing?”

     The man in Arion’s arms broke free, and I opened my mouth in a panic.  Something squeaked out. The man looked at me.  He had Calypso’s eyes, but he was nothing like Calypso.  I faltered.

     “Sing, Harmony.”

     I tried again.  My voice was shaky and hoarse, but when I looked at Arion bleeding to death on the ground and his eyes locked onto mine, I found a piece of a melody my heart knew well, and I sang.

     The man who was Calypso drew himself up and advanced towards us, and I sang louder.  Tears streamed down my face, terror clutched at my heart, but I sang louder.  The man was nearly upon us.

     “It’s not working.  Try singing something else,” whispered a petrified Sarafina.  But no, I knew what I was doing now.  I sang even louder.  The man lifted his hand towards Sarafina.  I pulled her back and stood in her place as shield.  One more glance at Arion told me we were almost there.  I looked into the man’s eyes as I sang, louder yet.  A shoot of triumph sprouted in his eyes and he smiled, but I matched his smile.  He did not sense the danger that was behind him until he felt his own knife cold on his neck.  He jerked, but he was too late.  The knife slashed across his throat and he fell at Arion’s feet.

     There was a moment of stunned silence before Arion took my hand.

     “Was that a healing song?” he asked.

     “No,” I said, “it was a song of… of…”

     I felt shy all of a sudden, and giddy with shock and relief.  He supplied the word for me.

     “Of love?”

     I could only nod.

     Sarafina came to me then, and for the first time in my life I could embrace the woman who had devoted everything to keeping me and my music safe, as a woman instead of a cat.

     “Thank you,” I said into her robes as her tears dampened my hair.

     After we cleared out the body of the sorcerer, Arion took me to the top of the highest hill in the kingdom, overlooking the town and across from the castle itself.  I sang, and the barren land turned green before our very eyes.  We stood there hand-in-hand, and he soon joined in with me, the melody to my harmony.