Chapter 5 cellist

Cellists After lunch, this is the third time we played the theme song of "The Godfather".I glanced around at the sightseers in the square to see how many had heard the previous round.While favorites are usually one or two times you don’t mind listening to them, you can’t repeat them too many times, or the audience will suspect that the band doesn’t have a decent playlist.At this time of year, the phenomenon of track overlap is basically okay.The cool autumn breeze and the outrageously expensive coffee prices often make the crowds come and go steadily.Anyway, I read every face in the square, and that's how I saw Tiber.

He waved his arm. At first I thought he was saying hello to us, but then I realized he was looking for a waiter.He looked older and fatter, but it wasn't hard to recognize him.Although I couldn't move my two hands on the saxophone to point him out clearly, I pushed the accordionist Fabien sitting next door and nodded to the young man.After looking around the members of the orchestra, I suddenly realized that after the summer when I met Tiber, our original lineup had only me and Fabien left. Well, this was all seven years ago, and the throbbing is still there.Practice like this every day, you will regard the orchestra as your own home, and the other members are like your own brothers.And if by chance someone leaves, you want to believe that he'll keep in touch, and send a postcard back from Venice or London or something, or a Polaroid of his current band like a letter back home.So when something forces you to face up to the speed at which things are changing, it's always an unpleasant moment.Today's bosom friends, but tomorrow they become wandering strangers, scattered all over Europe, each playing the theme song of "The Godfather" or "Autumn Leaves" (Autumn Leaves) in squares or coffee shops that you will never visit .

After playing the piece, Fabuen gave me a hard look, angry that I interfered with him in his main section︱Although it is not called a solo, it is also a few sections where the violin and clarinet stopped, and I sketched in the background The faint tones are all dominated by his accordion.I tried to explain it to him, pointing out Tiber, who was stirring coffee under the umbrella.Farbone didn't seem to remember him very well, and finally he said: Oh, yes, the guy with the cello.I don't know if he is still with that American woman. Of course not, I said: Don't you remember?It's over then.

Farbone shrugged.He concentrates on the score now, and we move on to the next piece. I was rather disappointed to see Farbone's lack of interest, but looking back, he was never one of the people who paid particular attention to the young cellist.Farbone has only played in bars and coffee shops.Not like Giancarlo the violinist or Ernesto the bassist we had back then.They had been formally trained, so they were always fascinated by characters like Tiber.Perhaps there is also jealousy mixed in. Jealousy that someone has a first-class musical education and a promising future.But to be fair, I think they just want to take Tiber of the world under their wing and maybe prepare them well for what lies ahead.Even if disappointment comes in the future, it will not be too difficult to accept.

In that summer seven years ago, the weather was so warm that even in our city, several times it was possible to believe that we were in the Adriatic.We played outside for over four months sitting under parasols in coffee shops facing the square and the tables and I must say it was not ordinary heat even with two or three fans blowing around.However, this is indeed high season, with tourists coming in droves, many from Germany and Austria, as well as locals who come to the beach to escape the heat.That was the summer we first noticed the Russians.Now, if you see Russian tourists, you don't think much of it, they just look like everyone else.But back then they were fairly rare enough to make you stop and stare.They are dressed in strange clothes, running around like freshmen in school.The first time we met Tiber, we were on break, sitting at the big table reserved for us at the coffee shop to replenish our energy.He sat nearby, constantly getting up and adjusting the position of the piano case so that it remained in the shadows.

Look at him, said Giancarlo: a student of the Russian Conservatory, living beyond his means.So what to do?Just waste your money on the cafes in the Grand Place. No doubt a fool, said Ernesto, but a romantic fool.I'd rather be hungry than come to our square for an afternoon. He was thin, with light brown hair, and wore unfashionable glasses with thick frames that made him look like a panda.He came every day, don't remember how it happened, but after a while we would sit and talk with him at half-time.Sometimes, if he showed up at the evening show, we'd call him over after it was over and maybe treat him to a drink and some croutons.

Soon, we found out that Tiber was Hungarian, not Russian.Also, his actual age may be older than he looks, because he has finished his studies at the Royal Academy of Music in London and spent two years in Vienna, studying with Oleg.Petovic.Learning from the old master was a bumpy journey at first, but he learned to deal with the violent temper for which he was famous.In the end, he left Vienna full of confidence and received a series of invitations to perform in various well-known venues in Europe.However, the concert was later canceled because the box office was deserted, and he was forced to play obnoxious music and live in a place that was either too expensive or too dirty.

Therefore, when the city carefully planned the art and culture carnival, it was the main reason that attracted him here that summer. It was the nourishment he desperately needed.In addition, a friend from the Royal Academy of Music offered him a free summer apartment by the canal, and he accepted it without hesitation.He told us he loves our city, but cash has been an issue.Although there are occasional small concerts, he now has to seriously think about what to do next. After listening to these concerns for a while, Giancarlo and Ernesto decided we should try and see if we could do something for him.In this way, Tiber indirectly knew Mr. Kaufman from Amsterdam, who was a distant relative of Giancarlo, and had a well-connected network in the hotel industry.

I remember that night very clearly.In early summer, Mr. Kaufman, Giancarlo, Ernesto, and the rest of us sat in the back room of the coffee shop, listening to Tibera on the cello.The young man must have known that he was auditioning for Mr. Kaufman, so he pulled very hard and eagerly, and it is very interesting to think about it now.He was obviously very grateful to us, and Mr. Kaufman promised to arrange a visit for him when he returned to Amsterdam. You could read the joy on his face.And when people say that Tiber's downfall started that summer, that he let his ambition go for self-interest, that the American woman was to blame for everything, well, maybe there's something to it.

While drinking his first cup of coffee of the day, Tiber noticed the woman.The square was cool and pleasant then, and the end of the coffee shop was in shadow most of the morning, and the cobblestone pavement left the workers drenched with hoses.He came over without breakfast, and looked enviously at the woman at the next table who ordered glass after glass of mixed fruit juice, which was obviously the result of a whim, because it was before ten o'clock and he added a bowl of steamed sea mussels.He vaguely felt the woman sneak a glance back at him, but didn't think much of it. She looked very comfortable, even beautiful, he said to us at the time: But you also know that she is ten or fifteen years older than me.How could I think there was any ambiguous feeling?

Afterwards he forgot about it, and planned to go back to his room and practice the piano for a few hours first, lest his roommate turn on the radio when he came back for lunch later.At this moment, the woman suddenly stood in front of him. She smiled brightly, as if they had known each other for a long time.He was shy by nature, so he didn't say hello to her.She then put a hand on his shoulder, as if he failed a certain test, but was still forgiven.Then she said: I went to your concert that day.in San Lorenzo. Thanks, he replied, though he knew it sounded a little silly.Then the woman continued to smile at him, so he said, Oh, yes, San Lorenzo.That's right.I did give a recital there. The woman smiled, and suddenly sat down on the chair in front of him.You sound like you've got a string of gigs going on lately, she said, with a hint of sarcasm. If so, then you have misunderstood.The concert you went to was the only one I had in two months. But you're just getting started, she said: It's nice to be invited.Besides, there were quite a lot of audience that day. Quite a lot?Only twenty-four people. For an afternoon session, it's pretty good. I shouldn't be complaining.However, there are not many people, and there is nothing for other tourists to do. Oh, don't be so downcast.After all, I have to go.I am also one of the tourists.His face turned red because he really didn't mean to offend her, and he patted his arm again, and said with a smile: You're just getting started.Don't care how many people there are.Besides, this is not the purpose of your performance. oh?If not for the audience, then what am I performing for? I don't mean that.I want to tell you that at your current career stage, it doesn't matter if you have twenty or two hundred listeners.Shall I tell you why?Because you have that! Which do I have? you have that.It cannot be faked.You have potential. He tried to squeeze the smile off his lips.In fact, he blamed himself more than he blamed her impulsiveness, because he originally expected her to say words like talent or talent, but now he felt that his idea was ridiculous.However, the woman continued: Now at this stage, you just wait patiently for that person to appear and hear your piano sound.That person could have been in a room like that on Tuesday, even if there were only twenty people around Twenty-four in total, not including host That's twenty-four, it doesn't matter.What I want to emphasize is that it is not the number of viewers that matters now.But that one person. Do you mean the record label guy? record?Oh, no, no.That will work itself out.No, I mean someone who will make you blossom.Someone who hears you and knows you're more than just a trained mediocrity.So even if you're still in the chrysalis stage, with a little help, you can emerge as a butterfly. I understand.So, is it possible that you are this person? Oh, come on!I can see that you are a proud young man.But in my opinion, it doesn't look like you have many spiritual guides around you.At least, not at my level. At that time, he felt that he was about to fall into trouble, so he looked carefully at the woman's facial features.Now that she took off her sunglasses, she saw a gentle, kind face, but not far from sullen and angry.He continued to look at her, hoping to recognize her true face soon, but in the end, he had to say: terribly sorry.Maybe you are a famous musician? I am Eloise.McCormack, she announced with a smile, held out her hand to him.Unfortunately, the name meant nothing to Tiber, and he found himself in a real mess.His instinctive reaction was to feign shock, but he blurted out: Yeah, that was amazing.Then he concentrated, thinking that not only was such a bragging dishonest, but it was likely to be embarrassing in a matter of seconds.So he sat up straight and said: Miss McCormack, it's an honor to meet you.I know this may seem unbelievable to you, but please forgive my ignorance and my background in Eastern Europe, after all, there used to be Iron Curtain countries.There are many movie stars or political figures who are household names in the Western world, even today, I probably still don’t know anything about them.So please forgive me for not really knowing who you are. Well, your honesty is appreciated.Having said that, she looked visibly humiliated, and her previous elation seemed to fade.After an awkward silence, he said again: Are you a famous musician? She nodded, her eyes drifted across the square and into the distance. I have to apologize again, he said: I am really honored that a distinguished guest like you came to my recital.Can I ask what kind of instrument you specialize in? Like you, she said quickly: cello.That's why I'm coming over.Even though it's just a small recital like yours, I just can't help it.I couldn't turn around and walk away.I think I came with a mission. Task? I don't know what else to say.I hope that all cellists can play the piano well and produce beautiful melodies.The way they play is often misguided. I'm sorry, but are we cellists the only ones who should criticize this misguided performance?Or are you referring to all musicians in general? Maybe other instruments too.But I'm a musician myself, so I listen to other cellists, and if I hear something wrong you know, the other day I saw some young people playing in the Stedelijk Museum, and everyone just passed by, I But you have to stop and listen.And then you know what, I had a hard time stopping myself from going up and correcting me. Did they go wrong? Not exactly wrong.But it is not in place.And not so far.But I think I'm asking too much.I know I shouldn't expect everyone to reach the goals I set for myself.They're just conservatory students, I think. She leaned back in her chair for the first time, looking at the children in the central fountain, chirping and trying to splash each other.Finally, Tiber said: So on Tuesday, maybe you feel the urge too.Want to come up to me and make your suggestion. She smiled, and suddenly, her expression became very serious again.Yes, she said: I do.Because as soon as I hear your piano sound, I feel like I hear my past.Sorry if this may sound rude.But the truth is, you're not on the right track yet.When I listen to you playing the piano, I really want to help you find your way.It's better not to delay this kind of thing. I have to let you know that I have been to Oreg.Petovik as a teacher.Tiber said this sentence calmly, waiting to hear her response.Unexpectedly, he actually saw her trying to restrain the smile on her lips. Petovik, well, I know, she said: Petovik was a very prestigious musician in his day.I also knew that he must still have a certain status to his students.But now, many of us feel that his concept, his whole set of methods, she opened her arms and shook her head.Tiber was speechless for a moment, and continued to stare at her as she put a hand on his arm again.I have spoken too much.I have no right to do so.I'm leaving first, leaving you quiet and quiet. She stood up, and the gesture instantly calmed his anger.Tiber is a gentle man, and he has never been angry with life for too long.Besides, the woman's comments to his teacher just now had no intention of touching a string deep in his heart. He was a little uneasy and uncomfortable, something he hadn't dared to confess to himself for a long time.So, when he looked up at her, the most expression on his face was actually confusion, not anything else. Listen, she said: Maybe you're mad at me for even thinking that, but I really want to help you.If you finally decide you want to have a good chat, find me over there.To the Excelsior Hotel. It was the biggest hotel in our town, and it was across the square from the café.She pointed to Tiber now, and started walking that way, smiling.When she was near the central fountain, she turned suddenly to scare away some pigeons, and he was still looking at her.She waved to him and continued on her way. For the next two days he found himself thinking often of that adventure.He saw the smug smile on her lips when he said Petovik's name so proudly, and he couldn't help but get angry again.Looking back, though, he could see that he wasn't really mad at his teacher.It felt more like he'd been used to just mentioning Petovik's name for a long time, and there was an immediate response, always relying on his reputation to attract attention and respect. That is to say, he was used to it. A kind of guarantee, by which you can travel all over the world without any disadvantages.What bothered him was that he feared that the guarantee had lapsed and no longer had the weight he expected. He also kept thinking of her invitation before she left.During those few hours sitting in the square, he found that his eyes drifted to the distance from time to time, looking at the gate of the Excelsior Hotel, where taxis and limousines stopped in front of the hall attendant and formed a line. Steady traffic. Finally, with Eloise.On the third day after McCormack's conversation, he finally crossed the plaza into the marble lobby and asked the counter to put her extension.The receptionist said a few words on the phone, asked his name, and after a short chat, handed him the receiver. I'm sorry, he heard her say: I forgot to ask your name that day, and it took me a while to remember who you are.But of course I haven't forgotten you.In fact, I think of you a lot these days.There are so many things I want to have a good chat with you.But you also know that we have to have a proper procedure.Did you bring your cello?No, of course you didn't.Would you like to come back in an hour, just in an hour, remember to bring your cello this time.I'm here waiting for you. When he returned to the Excelsior Hotel with his instrument, the receptionist pointed him in the direction of the elevator and told him that Miss McCormack was waiting for him. The thought of being alone in her room, even in the middle of the day, still made him feel weirdly intimate.He was relieved to find that it was a large suite and the bedroom was completely out of sight.The high French windows were fitted with venetian blinds, which were drawn up now, and the lace curtains fluttered in the breeze; once on the balcony, he found himself overlooking the square.The interior has rough stone walls and dark wooden floors, almost giving the impression of a monastery. Only flowers, pillows, and antique furniture slightly soften the hard atmosphere.She is in stark contrast, wearing a T-shirt, sportswear, and jogging shoes, as if she just came back from a run.She greeted him curtly, and said directly to him without any ceremony or tea or coffee: play for me.Any repertoire from your recital is fine. She pointed to a polished upright chair, carefully positioned in the center of the room.So he sat down and took out his cello.Unexpectedly, she sat down in front of a large window, almost only her silhouette could be seen; while he was tuning, she kept staring at the space in front of her.When he started to play, her posture remained the same; when he finished the first song, she didn't say a word.So, he hurried on to the next track, and then another.Half an hour passed, and then a full hour.The shaded interior, the austere acoustics, the afternoon sun muffled by the blown lace curtains, the noise rising from the plaza below, and above all her presence all inspired him to pull out Different from the previous notes, it contains new depth and new meaning.An hour later, he was confident that he must have far exceeded her expectations.Then, when he had finished playing the last piece, she sat for a while in silence, and finally turned around in her chair and said: Well, I know how far you've come.This project is not easy, but you can do it.You can absolutely do it.Let's start with Belljal Britten.Pull it again, the first movement is fine, and then we'll talk.We can adjust together, a little at a time. As soon as he heard it, he felt an urge to pack up the instrument and leave.But some other instinct might have been pure curiosity, or maybe something deeper had overcome his arrogance and compelled him to repeat the passage she had asked for.After a few bars, she interrupts him and starts talking, and he feels the urge to leave again.Out of sheer politeness, he decided to accept this unsolicited instruction for a little longer, five minutes at most.Instead, he found himself staying longer than expected, and then longer.He pulled a few more paragraphs, and she spoke again.At first hearing, her words were always artificial and too abstract, but when he integrated these viewpoints into the music, there were unexpected results.When I came back to my senses, another hour passed. I suddenly thought I saw something, he explained to us: a garden that I had never entered.There it is, in the distance.There are many things along the way.But that was the first time I discovered their existence.A garden like I've never seen before. The sun was nearly setting when he left the hotel.He crossed the square, came to the coffee shop, and indulged himself in extravagantly ordering a piece of almond cake, squeezed with whipped cream, and his satisfaction was beyond words. For the next few days, he would return to her hotel every afternoon, and when he left, if not full of the inspired feeling of the first visit, at least it was full of fresh energy and hope.Her comments grew bolder, and might even have seemed presumptuous to any bystanders.However, Tiber was no longer able to see her intervention in this light, and instead worried that she would soon be leaving the city, and the worrying thoughts began to haunt him and keep him awake, even when he had finished yet another motivating session. When I went to the class and stepped into the outdoor square, I felt a shadow in my heart.However, every time he tentatively asked this question, the answer he got was always vague.Oh, just wait until it's too cold to stay, she had said.Or else: leave when I get bored. But what about herself?We kept asking him: how is he playing the cello?How is the strength? The first time we asked the question, Tiber didn't come up with a decent answer, just said: She told me she was a celebrity, from the beginning, and then changed the subject.We insisted, though, that he sighed and began to explain to us. In fact, from the very first lesson, Tiber has been curious to hear her play, but has always been too intimidated to ask her.He was only a little suspicious when he looked around the room and didn't see her own cello.However, it would be perfectly natural to say that she didn't take her cello with her on vacation.It is also possible that behind the closed door stood a musical instrument, perhaps rented. However, the more classes he went back to, the more his suspicions grew.He did his best to put these worries out of his mind, because by this point he had no reservations about their meeting.The mere fact that she patiently listens to his music seems to stir up a whole new dimension for his imagination; the rest of the time, he often finds himself rehearsing a track in his mind, imagining her comments, her shaking her head, her frown, her little bit of approval. What pleased him the most was that sometimes the passages he played made her so fascinated that she couldn't help closing her eyes and directing the passages he played with her hands as if involuntarily.Still, his doubts lingered.When he entered one day, the bedroom door was open, revealing a larger stone wall that looked like a medieval four-poster bed, but no cello.Is it possible for such a famous artist to keep himself from playing musical instruments for so long even if he is away on vacation?But this question, he also drove it out of his mind. As the summer progressed, their conversations stretched, and they would stop by the coffee shop together after class, and she would buy him coffee, cake, and sometimes a sandwich.Now, they don't just talk about music although it always comes down to music in the end.For example, she would ask him about a German girl with whom he had been very close in Vienna. You gotta understand, she was never my girlfriend, he would tell her: We were never in that relationship. Are you saying you've never been physically close?That doesn't mean you don't love her. No, Miss Eloise, not so.I like her, it's true.But we are not in love.But yesterday when you pulled Rachmaninov, you were recalling an emotion.That was love, romantic love. No, that would be ridiculous.She is good friends, but we are not in love. But when you play that passage, it feels like a memory of love.You are still so young, but you already know the taste of abandonment and betrayal.That's why you can pull out that flavor in the third movement.Most cellists play with joy.But the sound of your piano is not joy, but the remembrance of a happy time, a time that will never come again. There is such a dialogue between them, and he often has the urge to ask her.But just as during his time with Petovik he had never dared to ask him personal questions, he felt the same way now.So he allowed himself to dwell on her offhand details that she now lives in Portland, Oregon, moved from Boston three years ago, that she doesn't like Paris because of some sentimental connection and doesn't dare to pursue it go down. She smiled more easily now than she had at first, and she had further developed the habit of taking his arm as they walked out of the Excelsior Hotel and across the square.That's when we started noticing them, weird combination, he looked much younger than his age, she was mother-like on the one hand, and flirtatious mistress on the other, just like Ernesto said .We used to spend a lot of time schmoozing about this topic before we even talked to Tiber, which is what band buddies do.If they walked by us arm in arm, we'd look at each other and say: What do you think?They're dating, right?But even if they enjoy the speculation, they eventually shrug their shoulders and admit that it's impossible: they just don't taste like lovers.Especially as we get to know Tiber as a person, and he tells us about those afternoon hours in her suite where no one wants to taunt him or make any ridiculous suggestions. Then one afternoon, as they sat in the plaza over coffee and cake, she started talking about a man who had wanted to marry her.His name is Peter.Henderson, who sold golf equipment in Oregon, had a fairly successful business.He is smart, nice, and well respected in the industry.Although he was six years older than Eloise, he could not be called old.He had two children from his first marriage, but everything was settled. So you'll know why I'm here, she said, laughing nervously, in a tone he'd never heard before.I'm avoiding him.Peter had no idea where I was.I guess I'm being cruel.Last Tuesday, I called him and told him that I was in Italy, but didn't say which city.He's angry, and I think he has a right to it. So, says Tiber: You've been thinking about your future all summer. Not really.I'm just hiding. You don't love this man? She shrugged.He is a good man.I don't have much choice right now. This Peter, is he a music lover? Oh, where I live, he definitely does.After all, he was going to the concert.Afterwards, we go to the restaurant and he compliments what we just listened to.So I guess he is. But he appreciates you? He knew it was never easy to live with a fiddler.She sighed.I've been swirling around with this problem my whole life.It won't be easy for you either.But people like you, like me, we don't really have a choice.We have our way. After that, she didn't bring up Peter again, but now, after that conversation, their relationship opened up a new space.When he finished playing the piano, she thought for a moment in silence; or when they sat together in the square, she became distant and stared at the neighboring parasols, and there was no discomfort in that atmosphere.Not only did he not feel left out, but he knew that her company was meaningful. One afternoon, after he had finished playing a piece, she asked to replay a small piece of music, only eight bars near the end.He did as she asked, noticing that her forehead was still slightly wrinkled. The music doesn't sound like us, she said, shaking her head.She was also sitting in front of the big window, her body was like a silhouette.The rest of your pull is fine.All other passages are our taste.But at that passage she shuddered a little. He played it again, playing it differently, although he was really not sure where he was going.So he wasn't surprised when he saw her shaking her head again. I'm sorry, he said: You have to express yourself more clearly.I really don't understand what it means to be unlike us. Do you want me to pull it to you myself?Is this what you mean? Her tone was calm, but because she was turning to face him now, he felt a tension between them.She looked at him for a long time, almost provocatively, waiting for his answer. Finally he said: No, I'll try again. But you're wondering why I don't just pull it out for you myself, don't you?Why don't you borrow your instrument and just say what I mean? It's not that he shakes his head, hoping the action seems natural.No.I think we've been in a good model.You suggest with words, and I pull out the artistic conception.In this way, it is not like I have been imitating, imitating, imitating.Your words can open new windows for me.If you pulled it yourself, those windows wouldn't open.I became only an imitation. She thought about it, and then said: Maybe you are right.Well, let me try to express myself clearly. Over the next few minutes she began to talk about the gap between the coda and the fill.Then he replayed the bars again, and this time she smiled again, nodding in approval. However, since that brief exchange, their afternoon classes have been quietly dusted.Maybe the shadow has always been there, but suddenly it came out of the cage and hovered between them.Later, when they were sitting in the square, he told her a story about how the previous owner of his cello had bought it in Soviet times for a few pairs of American jeans.After telling the story, she looked at him with a slight smile, and said with an unusual expression: This is a fine instrument.The sound quality is good.But since I've never touched it with my own hands, I can't judge carefully. He could tell immediately that she wanted to bring the topic back to the restricted area, so he quickly averted his eyes and said: For a player of your level, the weight of this instrument may not be enough.Even for me now, it can only be called unsatisfactory. He found that when talking to her, he couldn't relax anymore, because he would always worry about her sudden attack, and brought the topic back to the detonation zone.Even in the happiest conversations he had to keep a part of his mind ready to shut her up if she found another opening.Even so, he still couldn't transfer her successfully every time, if she said: Oh, if only I could just pull it to you!He also had to pretend not to hear. At the end of September, there was already a chill in the breeze. Giancarlo received a call from Mr. Kaufman from Amsterdam. The small chamber orchestra of a five-star hotel in the center of the city released a vacancy for a cellist.The band plays in a minstrel gallery overlooking the restaurant area four nights a week.At the same time, the musicians are also responsible for other light, non-musical duties at the hotel, with board and lodging provided.Mr. Kaufman immediately thought of Tiber, and made this vacancy for him too.Immediately after hearing the news, we informed Tiber that he was at the coffee shop the very night Mr. Kaufman called︱ but he only responded coldly, and I think we were all taken aback.This attitude is obviously in sharp contrast to the audition we arranged for him with Mr. Kaufman earlier this summer.Giancarlo was particularly outraged. What exactly is it that requires you to think so carefully?He pressed the boy: otherwise what do you expect?Carnegie Hall? I'm not unappreciative.However, I have to think carefully about this matter.To play for those who eat and chat.There are other hotel duties as well.Is this kind of thing really for someone like me? Giancarlo's temper always comes too quickly, and now the rest of us have to stop him from grabbing Tiber's jacket and yelling at him in his face.Some of us even felt that we should side with the boy because it was his life after all and he wasn't obliged to accept any job that made him uncomfortable.As things calmed down, Tiber began to agree that the job, from a short-term perspective, had its merits.He said not very considerately that our city will become a pool of stagnant water as soon as the peak tourist season is over.In contrast, Amsterdam is at least a cultural center. I will consider this matter carefully, and finally he said: Maybe you can tell Mr. Kaufman for me, and I will let him know my decision within three days. Giancarlo was certainly not satisfied with such a response. After all, he was expecting a flattering thank you, but he still called Mr. Kaufman back.Although the entire discussion that night did not mention Eloise.McCormack's name, but we all know that Tiber's words are largely influenced by her. That woman turned him into an arrogant little scum, Ernest said after Tiber left: Let him go to Amsterdam with that attitude.It will hit a wall soon. Tiber never told Eloise about his audition with Mr. Kaufman.Several times he was close to saying it, but always backed away, and the deeper their friendship grew, the more he felt that taking the job seemed like a betrayal.Therefore, Tiber naturally didn't want to ask her about this recent development, or even let her know any clues.But he has never been good at hiding, and his decision to keep it a secret brought unexpected results. It was unusually warm that afternoon.他照例來到旅館，開始拉私下準備的幾首新曲目給她聽。但是，不過三分鐘以後，她要他停下來，對他說： 有什麼地方不對勁。你一進門時我就注意到了。提伯，我現在把你摸得很透，不過從聽你敲門的聲音，我就聽出來了。現在我再聽你拉琴，就更加確定了。沒用的，逃不過我眼睛的。 他有些氣餒，頭一垂，正準備把實話一傾而出，她卻忽然舉起手說： 這件事我們逃避不了的。你一直想避免，但不會有用的。我想拿出來討論。過去這一個禮拜，我一直在等著討論。 Really?他震驚地看著她。 沒錯，她說，接著把椅子一挪，首度和他面對面坐著。我從來都不想欺騙你，提伯。但是過去這幾週，對我來說並不容易，你也一直是個很好的朋友。要是你以為我想玩什麼廉價的把戲，我會很痛心。不，拜託你，這次別試著阻止我。我想說出來。如果你現在就把大提琴給我，要我拉奏，我得說，我做不到。不是因為樂器不夠好，絕不是那樣。不過，如果你覺得我是冒牌貨，覺得我假扮成自己明明不是的樣子，那麼我想告訴你你錯了。看看我們一起達成的結果。難道這樣的證明還不夠，不足以說明我沒有造假什麼？沒錯，我告訴你我是位名家。唔，讓我解釋這句話的意涵是什麼。我的意思是，我天生就有非常特別的天賦，和你一樣。你和我，我們都有大部分的大提琴手一輩子也不可能擁有的特質，這和多努力練琴是無關的。我在教堂聽見你拉琴的那一刻，就立刻辨識出來。在某些方面，你一定也有在我身上讀到什麼。所以你才會決定走進這間旅館。 我們這種人其實不多，提伯，而且我們能認出彼此。我還沒學會拉大提琴的事實，並不會改變什麼。你得了解，我確實是一位名家。只不過，我的身分尚待拆卸。你也是，你還未拆卸完全，這是我過去幾週來一直在努力的方向。我一直在試著幫你剝除那些外層。但我從沒想過欺騙你。百分之九十九的大提琴家，在那些外層之下其實一無所有，沒什麼待拆待解的內容。所以像我們這樣的人，一定得互相幫助。要是我們在擁擠的廣場上看見對方，我們得向彼此伸出手，因為這種人真的不多。 他注意到她的眼睛泛起淚，但她的聲音依舊穩定。這會兒，她安靜下來，又把臉別開來。 這麼說，妳相信自己是個特別的大提琴家，過一會兒後他說： 一位名家。伊洛絲小姐，我們這種人得鼓起勇氣，像妳說的，為自己拆卸，雖然並不確定會在底下發現什麼。但是妳，妳本身並不在意這種拆卸工作。You did nothing.偏偏妳很確定自己就是技藝非凡的大提琴手 拜託別生氣。我知道這聽起來有點瘋狂。但是事情就是如此，這是事實。我還很小的時候，我媽媽就一眼識出我的天賦。至少這點，我對她抱持感激。但是我四歲、七歲、十一歲時她為我找的老師，素質實在不佳。我媽不知道，我卻清楚得很。雖然年齡還那麼小，我卻有這種本能。我知道我必須妥善保護我的天賦，以免被人徹底摧毀，哪怕他們的出發點有多善意。所以我把他們阻絕在外。你也得這樣處理，提伯。你的天賦非常珍貴。 原諒我，提伯插嘴說，這會兒口氣緩和一些：妳說你小時候拉過大提琴。but now 我十一歲以後就沒碰過樂器了。自從我跟我媽解釋我不能再跟魯斯先生學琴，就再也沒碰過。她了解，也同意先停下來等等看。首要關鍵就是別破壞我的天賦。或許我還有發光發熱的一天。好吧，有時我也覺得自己實在離開的太久。我今年都四十一歲了。不過至少，我沒有破壞天生的才情。這幾年來，我遇過好幾個說想幫我的老師，我卻一眼看穿他們的實力。提伯，有時就連對我們來說，都很難辨識。因為這些老師，他們是那麼專業，那麼會說話，聽著聽著，不免會被愚弄。你心想，沒錯，最後終於來了個能幫我的人，他是我們的一員。接著你發現，他其實根本不是這塊料。這個時候，你就得強悍起來，把自己隔絕。要記得，提伯，蟄伏等待永遠是上策。有時我覺得好糟，都幾歲了還沒展露我的天賦。但至少我沒有破壞它，那才是最重要的。 最後，他拉了幾首準備好的曲子給她聽，但兩個人都無法回復先前的情緒，那天的課也提早結束。到了樓下的廣場，他們喝咖啡、稍微聊了一會兒，然後他把出城幾天的計畫告訴她。他說他一直想去看看鄰近的鄉間，所以他為自己安排了一個短假。 對你會有好處的，她靜靜地說：但是別去太久。We still have a lot to do. 他跟她保證他頂多去一個禮拜就回來。不過，分開時，她的態度還是有些異樣。 他對他的遠行並沒有完全誠實：他根本就還沒有任何計畫。但是，那天下午離開伊洛絲以後，他回家打了幾通電話，最後在翁布里亞邊境附近的山區，訂了間青年旅館。那晚，他來咖啡店看我們，也把他的行程告訴我們我們給他各種五花八門的建議，像是去哪裡、看什麼景點然後他有點怯懦的請吉昂卡羅轉告卡夫曼先生，說他願意接受那份工作。 不然我還能怎麼辦？他這麼對我們說：等我回來時，身上就一點盤纏都沒有了。 提伯在我們的鄉村玩得相當愉快閒適。他沒多說什麼，只說他和幾個德國健行客交朋友，還在山區小餐館點了超出預算的食物。一星期後他回來，氣色顯然爽朗許多，卻急著想確定伊洛絲．麥考梅克還沒離開這座城市。 那時，觀光人潮已開始減少，咖啡店侍者開始抬出陽台暖器擺在戶外桌間。他回來的那個下午，提伯準時抱著大提琴去愛克賽西奧旅館，欣喜地發現不僅伊洛絲在那裡等他，而且，她顯然很想念他。她滿溢情感地迎接他，其他人若是情緒高漲，可能會端出一大堆食物、飲料招待，她則是一把將他推進平常的那張椅子，迫不及待的取出大提琴說：拉給我聽！hurry up!pull! 那天下午，他們非常開心。原來，他還在擔心氣氛不知道會變成怎樣，尤其在她告解、他們那樣分手以後。不過現在，所有緊繃似乎都已煙消雲散，兩個人的氣氛比以往更融洽。就連他拉完一首曲子後，她閉上眼睛、開始一串冗長、嚴厲的評論，他也不感到憎恨，反而充滿想盡可能了解她的渴望。隔天和之後那天，情況也是一樣：放鬆，有時甚至愉快打鬧，他心裡很確定，他這一生是不會再拉得更好了。他們絲毫沒有提起他遠走前的對話，她也沒有問起他的鄉間旅行。他們聊的只有音樂。 然後，他回來第四天，一連串的小麻煩包括他房裡的馬桶貯水箱漏水讓他沒辦法準時抵達愛克賽西奧旅館。等他經過咖啡店時，天色已經暗下，侍者在小玻璃碗裡點亮蠟燭，我們的晚餐曲目也已奏了幾首。他朝我們揮揮手，然後繼續穿過廣場朝旅館走去，懷裡的大提琴讓他看起來像瘸了腿。 今天，他注意到接待員在打電話給她之前有些猶豫。然後，開打門，她溫暖的迎接他，態度卻有些不一樣。他都還沒來得及開口，她很快就說： 提伯，我好高興你過來了。我才在跟彼得講你的事。沒錯，彼得終於找到我了！然後她朝房裡大喊：彼得，他來了！提伯來了。還帶了他的大提琴來！ 當提伯走進房裡，一個高大、腳步搖晃、頭髮花白、一身淺色有領休閒衫的男人微笑起身。他緊緊地抓起提伯的手，說：噢，我聽了好多你的事。伊洛絲堅信你會成為大明星。 彼得就是這麼堅持，她說：我就知道他會找到我。 你躲不了我的，彼得說。然後他為提伯拉了張椅子，從櫃子的冰筒裡拿出香檳，為他倒了一杯。來，提伯，和我們一起慶祝團圓吧。 提伯嘗了嘗香檳，注意到彼得拉給他坐的，剛好是他平常的大提琴椅。伊洛絲不知道去了哪裡，好一會兒，就只有提伯和彼得兩個人聊天，手裡都端著玻璃杯。彼得感覺挺和善的，問了他許多問題。在匈牙利那樣的地方長大，提伯是什麼感覺？他第一次造訪西方世界，是否感受到文化衝擊？ 真希望我也會一種樂器，彼得說：你真幸運。我也好想學。現在恐怕太晚了，我猜。 噢，想學永遠也不嫌晚，提伯說。 You're right.永遠不嫌晚。說晚只是一種藉口而已。不，事實是，我是個忙碌的男人，我總告訴自己沒時間學法文、學樂器、讀《戰爭與和平》。所有我一直想做的事。伊洛絲小時候常常拉琴。我想她有告訴過你。 沒錯，她有。我知道她天生多才多藝。 噢，她確實是。認識她的人都看得出來。她非常敏銳。她才是應該上這些課的人。我，我只不過是笨手笨腳的庸俗先生而已。他抬起手笑了笑。我想彈鋼琴，但手這麼拙，你還能怎麼辦呢？倒適合挖挖土，我們家的人幾代都這麼過活。但是那位女士他用玻璃杯朝門的方向指了指她可是敏銳的很。 最後，伊洛絲從臥室走出來，身上是一襲深色晚禮服，還配戴了許多珠飾。 彼得，別講無趣的話煩提伯，她說：他對高爾夫沒興趣的。 彼得伸出手，求情似地看著提伯。請告訴我，提伯。我有跟你提到任何一句有關高爾夫嗎？ 提伯說他該走了，他看得出來自己干擾到他們用餐了。但兩個人齊聲抗議，彼得說： 看看我。我穿這樣，看起來像要去吃晚餐嗎？ 雖然提伯覺得他穿這樣相當合宜，卻還是迎合他原意，改口笑了笑。然後彼得說：你不能沒拉點東西就走。你的琴藝可是我耳聞已久的。 提伯一頭霧水，開始解開大提琴盒，伊洛絲卻忽然堅定開口，聲音裡有股新的音質： 提伯說的沒錯。It's getting late.這座城裡的餐廳，要是客人遲到，是不會保留位子的。彼得，去把衣服換好。或許順便刮個鬍子？我陪提伯出去。我想私底下和他聊聊。走進電梯後，他們對彼此親切地笑了笑，卻沒有說話。一走到戶外，他們發現廣場的夜已點上燈光。當地的孩子放假回來，或踢球或繞噴泉互相追著跑。晚間漫步正流動蔓延，我想我們的音樂會飄到他們駐足的地方。 唔，就是這樣，最後她說：他找到了我，所以我想他值得擁有我吧。 他是個很迷人的人，提伯說：你們現在打算回美國了嗎？ 幾天後。我想我會吧。 你們打算結婚嗎？ I guess so.有那麼一秒，她認真地看著他，然後又把眼神別開。我猜是吧，她又說。 祝你們幸福。他是個好人，也是個音樂愛好者。那對妳來說很重要。 沒錯，那很重要。 妳剛剛在準備時，我們聊的不是高爾夫，而是音樂課。 oh really?你是說他的還是我的？ 你們倆都是。不過，我想奧勒岡波特蘭那裡，不會有太多能教妳的老師吧。 She smiled.就像我之前說的，像我們這種人總是很難找到。 沒錯，我能理解。尤其這幾週以後，我比之前更能體會。接著他又說：伊洛絲小姐，在我們分開以前，有件事我得告訴你。我很快就會去阿姆斯特丹，有間大旅館提供工作機會。 你要當門房嗎？ 不是，我要進旅館餐廳的一個小型室內樂團表演。我們負責在客人吃飯時娛樂他們。 他仔細地盯著她瞧，在她眼裡看到有什麼東西引燃，卻又消退。她把一隻手擺在他手臂，然後微笑。 唔，那麼祝好運。接著她又說：看來那些旅館客人有耳福了。 hope so. 接下來一會兒，他們依舊一起站著，在旅館正門投下的一池光線後，笨重的大提琴夾在他們中間。 我也希望，他說：妳和彼得先生在一起會快樂。 我也這麼希望，她說，又笑了起來。然後她在他臉頰一吻，快速給他一個擁抱。自己保重，她說。 提伯向她道謝，都還來不及回神，就看著她朝愛克賽西奧旅館走回去。 那之後不久，提伯就離開我們這座城了。上次和他一起喝飲料時，他顯然很感謝吉昂卡羅和厄內司托幫他找了那份工作，感謝我們的友誼，但我不免覺得他和我們有些疏遠。有幾個人也有同感，不只有我，但是可想而知，吉昂卡羅現在換站到提伯那一邊，說那小子只是對新的人生階段既興奮又惶恐罷了。 excited?他怎麼可能興奮？厄內司托說：他整個夏天都被捧成奇才。現在換這份旅館工作，算是降級的了。坐在這裡跟我們說話，那也算降級。夏天一開始時，他還是個好孩子。但是那女人對他做了那些事以後，我慶幸我們看到了他的另一面。像我之前說的，這一切，都已經是七年前的事了。吉昂卡羅、厄內司特還有那時後的哥兒們，除了我和法布恩，大家都各走各的路了。直到前幾天在廣場發現他以前，我已經好長一段時間沒再想起我們的年輕的匈牙利大師了。他並不難認。確實胖了一點，脖子也增粗了些。他喚服務生的手勢，有某種或許只是我自己的想像某種不耐，舉手投足頻頻流露著一股苦澀。不過，這麼說或許並不公平，畢竟只是匆匆一瞥。即便如此，還是覺得他失去了那份想取悅人的青春熱切，以及往時那些小心翼翼的舉止儀態。或許你會說，在這世上如此過活也不算壞事吧。 原本，我想過去和他聊聊天，但等我們的曲子奏完時，他早已不見。據我所知，他只有下午來過。他身上穿著一套西裝不是特別豪華，只是普通的式樣或許現在白天在什麼地方有份辦公工作吧。也或許他是來附近談生意，順道過來我們這座城看看，單純為了往日情懷，誰知道呢？要是下次他再回來廣場，我也沒有忙著演奏的話，我會過去和他說說話。 (End of the book)