🔵 By Travis Zukic. Photo by lauragrafie.
This piece is a short story written for one of my university courses. The assignment was to imagine a God or Goddess as they would appear on Earth interacting with us mere mortals. I chose to write about a Goddess of Music who controlled people through her piano.
Performing Beethoven’s Piano Concerto #14 in C# Minor
AKA: The Moonlight Sonata
“Eva, Why’d you play such a depressing song?”
“So you shut the hell up…”
On a mild day in June relaxing in the lobby of a generic chain hotel, a group of three couples are waiting for two events. First is for the fourth couple who are still upstairs carnally exploring each other’s bodies to come downstairs, and second for the shuttle that will ferry them all to a friend’s wedding to arrive. Bored, they turn their attention to a beautiful Grand Piano behind red velvet ropes with the mandatory “Do Not Touch” sing printed off Microsoft Word in a plastic sheet protector, zip-tied to the dangling rope, all flanked by fake plastic trees.
“Why have it if nobody is allowed to play it?” asks one of the more sarcastic members of the group, “If it’s only for show that’s about ten grand wasted!” He finishes emphasizing the pun at the end, collecting eye-rolls and groans from his companions.
“Hey Eva, you play right?” Asks the member of the group known for playing Mara, tempting them towards perdition everywhere they go.
“No…” Eva lies, hiding her beet-red flushed face behind her raven-black hair. Like most musicians put on the spot she extends her hands that are shaking like an alcoholic with the DT’s.
“We are already dressed up, you will look like you belong!” He pushes through a forming Cheshire Cat’s grin missing only the canines, “I will pay you a hundred dollars for just one song.” The hot air pours out like broth for her stewing thoughts.
Eva pauses and looks at the group. Her heart is pounding through her almost translucent skin twitching her chest. Blood rushes to the tips of her ears pushing through the hair draped to cover them. Anyone would be mistaken if her pupils did not dilate, burying her emerald irises within a field of ebony. Silently on shaking legs she rises, gracefully accepting both the challenge and the money from the spawn of Satan sitting beside her. Smoothing out her discount rack purple dress she lithely glides silent as a cat over the scarlet ropes and takes her seat on the piano bench.
Eva’s blush dissolves into a pallor as she collects her thoughts, recalling a memory of dreadful depression that will fuel the drive behind her upcoming performance. Her hands push and arrange her hair behind her ears opening the curtains to her soul now on display to the unsuspecting crowd. Shaking her head to rid her mind of evil thoughts she catches her reflection in the flossy varnish finish of the Steinway. Her eyes have misted, polishing the now uncovered emeralds into holding a shimmer.
A creak sounds from the hinge of the dust cover and her now steady hands gently rub the matte finish on the black and white teeth of the monster she is about to awaken. The group of friends watch in silence as Eva rubs the warmth into her lotionless hands, laying her bony fingers over the keys.
Immediately Eva becomes One with the piano as if they are long lost lovers returning from a long lost separation. Her right foot presses firmly into the sustain pedal testing the feedback through her purple velvet heels. Her concert straight posture maintains its stoicism as she breathes in deeply and relaxes her tensed muscles. She bows her head sightly and cocks her left ear towards the beast as the light refracts a white halo off her glossy hair for all to see.
Eva closes her eyes and bites her lower lip.
Her amethyst painted finger lets loose with the first bass note while the rest of her left hand follows with the underlying melody. The notes ring out in a pulse that nurtures the warmth of the opening hymn calling the lost flock into the fold. Suddenly the murmur of the lobby ceases all at once missing only the movie perfect scratch of the record. The calm start lulls the audience into a moment of false security until the main melodic notes puncture the air when Eva’s right hand calls the second voice into play. One by one travel bags are are deserted to float on the rippled sea of the marble floor as their owners flutter like moths to the flame around the source of the welcome distraction.
A tenor drop of the melody adds a sense of foreboding to the destructive denouement Eva has prescribed for those standing before now motionlessly beating their chest “Mea Culpa” to Eva and her monster’s pulsing hearts. As the first section nears its end Eva crescendos and slows the tempo to build tension up to a moment that is ready to be cut with a knife. The melody overplays the last bass note by a few bars and lumps form in the throats of the audience gathered around as the strings of the universe pull tighter to the point of no return.
When Eva decides to cut the cords the monster is unleashed for all to see in its untamed glory. Her free leg curls under the bench and her heel taps out a sharp staccato on the notes of the second voice she wishes to accentuate while her lithe body sways with the melody. A once timid and whimsical piano now roars as a mighty Wurlitzer as the notes exorcise the resonant tones previously hiding in the aged wood of the piano case, filling the lobby with the full sound of an orchestra tuned in heaven.
The congregation has become focused solely on this roaring beast and its fearless tamer with nobody the wiser to the demon who set this concert in motion with his cowardly challenge. Even he is now restrained by the chains of a bitter memory from long ago returning to torture what’s left of his soul. Little lamps have been driven to the comfort of the mothers as the now weakened males place their laws on the shoulders of their lionesses. Tears well in the eyes of all as this lone woman entrances them all with a song that has led weaker men to venture into the land of which none return.
Eva drives the melody into an uncomfortable minor phrase while the congregation follows unfazed by this change, listening to the sound solidify and unrelentingly choke them as an unseen vampire drains their life force for Eva’s whim. The sharp taps of her heel on the marble floor is the gavel closing judgment on their hearts and souls found guilty and sentenced to an eternity within her own. When the key returns to a comfortable and graceful flow her own heart pours out the blood of her life through the seven wounds to rain down upon them, the unwilling subjects, as their life force joins the storm to form a hurricane controlled by a pale Goddess in Vera Wang.
The storm rages as Eva and her piano toss on the sea of her own making testing the flood gates at every swell. At the height of the violence Eva calls upon every fiber of her being to donate to the crescendo to the apex that threatens the very limits of time and space. She forces the pendulum to obey her every command as the clock unwinds to the fateful end of all those present before her.
A well-timed pause on the subdominant note edges the collective orgasm that is under the complete control of this seemingly innocent dominatrix with ha spell only she has the power to break. Silently with the anxiety of burning gasoline in their veins the crowd begs this cruel mistress to push them over the edge into pure ecstasy. The collective release is palpable as Eva breathes the last of her energy reviving even the coldest of hearts as the ether dissolves. With the final disassembled chord the dominant is returned in a sustained note to hover over them as a spectre looking upon the living in pure unadulterated jealousy.
As the resonant tones dissolve back into the now peaceful air of post-coital bliss there are few left who are strong enough to maintain the stability of the dam holding back the reservoirs of repressed memories and emotions. Most have already cracked and released a torrential flood that drowns the very life force they were sworn to protect with tears of bittersweet agony and vengeful love. In this moment of collective silence this mass of humanity is trapped in the maelstrom of a deathly depression and despair only a few unlucky souls are ever unfortunate enough to experience themselves – weightlessly cast into the abyss unsure of which way to float or drown only to drain into the purgatory of Eva’s deranged mind. No sound is heard as the dust cover is returned over those precious keys which at the command of a Femme Fatale pulsed out music none of the congregation was worthy of hearing.
“Oh my God…” a mawkish voice timidly breaks the silence which sets off a thunder that only Mjolnor could be the cause of exploding from the hands of the select few who were unknowingly thrust into this Mass of Human Suffering. The High Priestess stands with movements still beating in tempo to her now silent music. With heels clacking on the marble floor she rushes away from the now sleeping beast with bleeding mascara staining her overwhelmed and flushed scarlet face. Falling into the arms of her Earthy lover amid a torrential storm of veneration her body becomes a rag-doll, exhausted and drained from the supernova of Pentecostal Holy Fire originating from her soul. One by one the congregation turns away and returns to their mundane lives, blissfully unaware that this Eucharist of Eva’s soul will hold power over their thoughts and actions for days to come, seeping into their lives as an outpouring of love free of charge to those who were unable to partake in the Chalice of Communion.
The shuttle will arrive shortly, sending this group of friends now bound together by the body and blood of their Messianic sister to witness another sacrament dear to the Gods. Joining them will be the sinful couple who will babble incessantly the incoherent and meaningless trifles of Atheistic practice, which his now alien to the select few who worshiped in the nave of that makeshift temporary chapel; located in the lobby of Marriott.