Double Time
Chapter 85
“She seemed to grow taller as the resonance of the music swept through her like a raging flood.”
—Ryan Sylander, Opus One
SUNDAY MORNING, Beca joined the family for breakfast. No, she hadn’t spent the night. I drove over to her house at seven and picked her up. She was joining me again as my audience for my Sunday morning concert. It was her second time and I had a lot of girlfriends who hadn’t joined me for a concert, but today was Beca’s sixteenth birthday and everyone else yielded to her request.
“I’ll probably have to lick every one of them to orgasm this afternoon for this privilege,” Beca sighed as she settled into the beanbag next to me. “You’ll help me, won’t you, Jacob?” I snorted.
“Yeah. I’ll be glad to help. You want to split them up or double team them?”
“Oh, definitely double team! I’ll probably owe you a blowjob after that, too.”
“Um… Beca. You don’t have to do that. We can just focus on the girls in our lives.”
“Is it because I was a boy?”
“No! Kitten, never. You have never been a boy to me. And you never will be. But not one of my girlfriends ever has to do something against her nature. I know you prefer girls. You don’t have to have sex with me to prove you are a girlfriend, too,” I said.
“I would,” she whispered.
“Beca…”
“I know I said I was lesbian and I truly believe I am, Jacob. But maybe not quite as much as I once was. That’s part of what transition did for me. When I had one, I hated penises. And since they were attached to boys and boys had always been mean to me, I hated boys, too. But I don’t have a penis to hate now. I guess surgery enabled me to separate my hatred of my own genitalia from my feelings about boys in general. And you specifically,” she said.
“Beca, all I can say is that I love you. I fell in love with you long before I knew you were transitioning. Maybe because you are so small, that love has been more like a big brother, but never doubt that I love you.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen anytime soon, regardless,” she laughed. “My vagina is still virgin. It’s only nine months old. The first three months, while I was in Thailand, were pretty bad. I was in pain most of the time. You know what it’s like to get kicked in the balls. Imagine what it’s like to get your penis shoved inside out. I did a lot of lying out by the pool, but I didn’t swim. The last time I went swimming was the day I told you last May. I bled a lot during recovery and then I had to dilate my new vagina three times a day with a perspex rod to keep it from closing up. I still do that a couple of times a day. Not a very pretty image, is it? It’s functional and eventually, I’ll probably want to try it out with something other than my girlfriends’ fingers. What I’m saying is that I love you, Jacob. If there is ever a time when I want a boy’s penis in my vagina, it will be yours. You mean so much to me.”
“I think you are the bravest person I know,” I said. I could feel V1’s tears welling up in my eyes. They were not so much tears for Beca as they were tears of regret for my attitude and actions in that life. I had to come face to face with a petite vulnerable little girl in order to adjust my thinking. What if she hadn’t been petite? What if she had been a more ‘masculine’ looking girl? Would I ever have made this adjustment? I kissed her softly and we got ourselves in position for recording.
I was breaking a little with the tradition of strictly classical or Spanish music. Vinnie convinced me there was a lot of contemporary music that sounded great on an acoustic guitar with good fingering. I started off with Eric Clapton’s ‘Wonderful Tonight.’ Beca smiled and just relaxed on my shoulder. Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly Me to the Moon.’ Elvis Presley’s ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’ Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect.’ Michael Jackson’s ‘You Are Not Alone.’ The Carpenters’ ‘Close to You.’ Gavin James’ ‘The Book of Love.’ I had some others, but you get the idea. When I finished and turned off the recorder Beca suddenly pretended to be asleep. I set my guitar in its stand and reached over to carry her to bed. Mom, Dad, and Pey had left for church so I figured a little nap before I uploaded my video wouldn’t hurt anything.
Beca cuddled into my arms and pulled my left over her waist. I felt her fuss a little and then my hand made contact with her bare tummy. She pushed it up from there and soon I was cupping her perfect little tit in my hand, just softly caressing it. She sighed.
“I really like my breasts,” she said. “I hope you do, too.”
There was no school Monday for Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Mom had me drive her to work and told me to go to Louie’s and pick up my tux. Then Cindy and I had back to back rehearsals with Jannie and Vinnie. Mrs. Marvel had her hands full with Cindy’s younger brother as her older brother was at a weekend sports camp. After telling me about a million times to drive carefully, she let Cindy get in the car with me to go to our lessons.
“What you did in your program last week,” Cindy said excitedly when we got to Vinnie’s. I thought she’d been reserved and kind of formal with Jannie during our lesson but she didn’t have any reservations getting excited with Vinnie. “I want to play Libertango.” Piazzolla wrote the piece for flute and guitar and I’d done a solo rendition during my performance with Brittany and Sophie. Vinnie gave us some instructions before we started playing and stressed how important it was for us to connect on the piece. We had to play it as if we were dancing a tango with each other.
Once wasn’t enough. Cindy wanted to run through the piece again. In a way, I felt like I was dancing with her as we moved our heads and hands in concert with each other.
“Now ‘Tango Ladeado’,” she demanded. O-kay. It took me a second to center on the music for her recital. Jannie hadn’t been pleased with this piece and had us do it three times in her session. I looked up at Cindy and she nodded. We were off and running. The difference was that she never turned toward the audience a step ahead of me. She stayed facing me and we played with a lot of eye contact. It was fantastic!
“Yes!” Vinnie yelled when we finished. He was applauding in the little rehearsal room. “You figured it out. A tango requires a connection. Very good.”
We ran through the other four pieces in the recital and I took Cindy back to Jannie’s house. She was going to get more rehearsal with her teacher on the pieces she was doing with the orchestra. I went to pick up my tux.
“We’re so excited!” Rachel said.
“I’m glad I don’t have a game today,” Livy added.
“Mom and Dad are going to work on a cosplay for you so you can carry your guitar at the next con,” Desi added. “We’ll all be there tonight.”
“I can’t believe all of you bought tickets for this tonight,” I said. “It’s really Cindy’s show. Just wait till you hear her performance of Chaminade. They could have made that the whole program. Really.”
“Oh, we’re going so we can see her play,” Beca said. “But we’re going to see her play with you. There will be a whole section of the audience devoted to your fans. All our parents are coming and even Nanette will be there.”
“Hey,” Brittany whispered to me. “Rumor has it that several teachers are going, including you know who.”
“Who…?” I started. Then it hit me. Ms. Levy. “No!”
“Who’s got a crush on Jacob?” Joan asked. All six girls raised their hands.
“Not that I’m worried, but just… um… be polite, you know? It’s an orchestra concert, not a basketball game.”
“We’ll cheer silently to ourselves,” Rachel grinned.
“Oh! My!” Mrs. Marvel said when she saw me before the performance. I really liked this tux but I wasn’t sure if she was on board. They had a chair in the wings where I could sit and watch the first act. “You will complement Cynthia’s dress as well as you do her playing,” she said at last. That was it. I was a side-dish to Cindy’s main course. That was fine with me. I would do my best to see that everything went well for her.
I’d found out at last night’s rehearsal that the rehearsal the week before was only for Cindy’s pieces, not the entire concert. In fact, there were two pieces in the first act that didn’t feature her at all so she could retreat offstage to rest between her solos. They’d also done some rearranging and the program indicated she would do the Debussy ‘Syrinx’ at the opening of the second act instead of in the middle of the first. We were given staging instructions for the opening and it was dramatic. Cindy would enter alone on the bare stage and take her position, flute vertical in her right hand. When she was in position, the house lights would come down and she would be center in a spotlight. From there she would raise her flute and begin the haunting melody. She would bow for applause and exit stage right. There I would meet her and when the audience had settled down, I would escort her back to the stage, staying upstage so she was in the audience view the whole time. I would hold out my hand toward her as she bowed to the audience and then take my seat on the stool. When we finished our pieces, we would stand and bow. Me once and then simply holding my hand out again to present the star as she bowed again. We would exit and if there was sufficient applause, we would return to the stage together so she could bow again.
My guitar was in my dressing room and I’d go there during intermission to retrieve it. I kept looking around for Cindy, but first the concert master entered and the audience applauded. He gestured to the oboist who played an A and the orchestra tuned. Then Maestro Sokolov entered, shook the concert master’s hand, bowed to the audience and stepped up to the podium. The first piece, was ‘Hungarian March’ by Hector Berlioz. No one made announcements about what was being played. You had to keep track in your program. I could see why they chose this. The full orchestra version nonetheless had significant flute parts, played by the two flautists who normally sat beside Cindy. It gave them some special time and set the tone for a flute soloist. The audience applauded and Sokolov left the stage. That was when I saw that Cindy had arrived backstage. Sokolov greeted her and as the applause died down, he followed her onto the stage.
She repeated the ritual of shaking hands with the concert master and bowed to the rest of the orchestra then she mounted a small platform next to the conductor and nodded that she was ready for the Chaminade ‘Concertino for flute and orchestra.’ She was breathtaking!
Her black dress was tailored on top with long sleeves and a vee-neck. The waist looked almost like she was wearing a formal cummerbund and then the dress fell in a loose skirt to the floor. Her black hair and large black glasses simply added to the overall effect. The applause was enthusiastic as she left the stage and found her mother waiting with water. I started toward her but her mother waved me away. I understood. I would be a distraction Cindy didn’t need while she prepared for her second piece. In the meantime, Sokolov led the orchestra in what I thought was a rather heavy performance from Prokofiev’s ‘Romeo and Juliet, Dance of the Knights.’ On the other hand, it made an incredible contrast to Martin Blessinger’s ‘Rhapsody for Flute and Orchestra’ when Cindy entered the stage once again. I was entranced by the number of voices Cindy coaxed from her instrument. And fifteen minutes later, the first act came to a close. There was a lot of applause before Cindy came off the stage and the audience broke for intermission. She rushed to her dressing room and I made a leisurely stroll to mine to retrieve my guitar while the stagehands cleared music stands and chairs from the stage.
I decided it was a good idea to use the bathroom before we started up.
When I returned to the stage, I saw my stool was still sitting backstage. I saw a stagehand I recognized.
“Do I need to position my own stool?” I asked.
“Oh, no! We’ll get it after Miss Marvel does her solo. The Maestro didn’t want anything else onstage with her for the ‘Syrinx’.” I breathed a sigh of relief. And then I saw Cindy and forgot to breathe again. What a transformation. The purple dress was floor length, but it stopped a long way below her chin. It didn’t flaunt her breasts—she didn’t have that much up top to emphasize. I mean, she’s only fourteen. But the bare shoulders and arms were a stark contrast to the long-sleeved black dress she’d worn in the first act. Brittany or Sophie could have danced in this dress. She also had removed her glasses—I don’t know if she had contacts or was feeling her way along—and her short black hair fell carelessly over her left eye. She nodded to the stage manager and the curtain opened. House lights were still up and Cindy walked onto the stage and simply stood like a small goddess at the center. The noise of intermission died into applause as people realized she’d taken command. The lights came down until there was only one light on this sparkling jewel.
And then she played. I dug in my pocket for a handkerchief. I couldn’t help the tears that welled up in my eyes.
It’s only three and a half minutes long and after bow and applause, she left the stage. The stagehand I’d talked to earlier took my stool to the stage and checked to see that the rungs were pointing the right direction as well as having the feet on the tape marks.
“Be ready for anything, Jacob,” Cindy said as she took my right hand in her left. “This isn’t a rehearsal. This is live.”
We got the cue from the stage manager and walked onto the center stage. I stood as Cindy bowed, then took my place. I plucked my A string and she softly blew the same note. Then I struck the first chord of ‘Francesco en Paraiso’ and we were in the music. People recognized this as a suite with five movements and there was only expectant silence between the end of this piece and the beginning of ‘Canción Desierto.’ This seven-minute movement begins with a flute solo for nearly a full minute. When I came in, I felt almost like an interloper echoing her sounds and then filling the background with a counterpoint. Then, about two and a half minutes in, I had a very gentle guitar solo as Cindy caught her breath for forty seconds. I really loved this piece. I could imagine playing it with her during a Sunday morning concert. I pushed that thought away as I continued to pick out the notes that would simply give substance and depth to her flute.
The third piece, ‘Quijote,’ starts with a flute stab half a measure before I enter with the guitar. This four-and-a-half-minute piece includes a lot of background repeated theme while the flute dances all over the place. The fourth movement is ‘Llanto,’ which means ‘Lament.’ As you can imagine, it is a real contrast to the livelier pieces. Cindy gave me the very slight nod I recognized as my signal to start. For the first thirty seconds, it’s just me, plucking a few sad chords and strings. Then she comes in, sounding very far away. Half way through, she hits notes that are almost beyond a dog’s hearing and you can just feel the weeping of a mourner. After four minutes, we brought it down to a slow note on the flute that just fades out.
And then I found out what Cindy had meant when she said to be ready for anything. The beginning of ‘Tango Ladeado’ is tricky because we have to start at the exact same moment. I was poised, ready to begin as soon as I saw her start to exhale. Instead, she stepped back and turned to face me. She was in a moving spotlight and the operator kept focused on her but when he realized she was going to play this facing me, he immediately opened the aperture enough to include me in the spot.
Cindy held my eyes and we hit the first note precisely at the same time. For only a little over three minutes, neither of us took our eyes off the other. We were so connected at the end, we could have kissed. The audience erupted. I stood and we faced the audience to bow. I took mine and then simply held out my hand to her. She bowed again and we walked off stage. The audience kept applauding and the stage manager pushed us toward the stage for a curtain call.
“Are you ready for anything?” she asked as we returned to center stage.
“What do you want, Diva?” I asked.
“Mozart in Hell.”
“Really? You have the energy?”
“Just try to get away from me,” she laughed as she bowed and I took my seat again. The audience suddenly hushed as we faced each other again. There was no encore on the program.
I struck the opening notes and then she jumped in with the rapid moving Crary part of what was usually a guitar duet. We took the audience by surprise. And when we wrapped up the riotous piece, Cindy held out her hand to me and we turned to face the audience. They stood. We bowed. I tried to step back to let her have the second bow but she kept hold of my hand and dragged me down with her. Still with hands held, we each raised our instruments to the audience and then left the stage.
“You surprised us on that,” the stage manager laughed. “Warning next time, okay?” This time the curtain was closed and we heard the last spattering of applause die out as Mrs. Marvel and Jannie reached us.
“That was amazing!” Jannie said before Mrs. Marvel could open her mouth. “Is that something you worked on with Vinnie? We need to do more!”
“Mom, may I…?” Cindy began.
“No!” Mrs. Marvel said firmly. “You may not date him. You are too young and he is too old. There is no way I will approve that.”
“But… I didn’t… He has girlfriends…” Cindy spluttered.
“Well, in that case, there is nothing wrong with you playing duets together,” her mother smiled. “Just behave yourself, young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. Wow!
END PART VII
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