Once more, Shizuka’s thoughts drifted to Lan.
“I can see the appeal,” she said.
“A lot of her fans say she’s the greatest violin player alive. O-of course, well, they might not know about classical music,” Katrina stumbled.
Shizuka pulled into the Matías’ parking lot and shrugged.
“Who am I to say? Besides, she seems like a force of good in the universe.”
“Just like you,” Katrina said innocently. “Except you don’t dance!”
By the time Shizuka recovered, Katrina was already halfway to the store.
* * *
“She looks different.”
Lucy Matía placed the violin in Katrina’s hands. “Think of it as a makeover. Careful!”
“What? Oh, shit!” Katrina gasped. Holding her violin was like holding air.
“Good,” Lucy said gently. “I didn’t want you to drop her.”
“It’s like carbon fiber.”
“It’s much nicer than carbon fiber,” Lucy said, trying not to appear miffed. “Why don’t you try her out? She’s already in tune. Andrew, get her a bow.”
“No, no. I brought my own,” Katrina said. She did not mention it was carbon fiber.
Katrina adjusted the shoulder rest. She played a note, then stopped.
“Is everything okay?” Lucy asked.
Katrina nodded.
She played a few measures more. She held the violin to her ear.
Nothing more needed to be said.
Once back home, Shizuka and Katrina returned immediately to the practice hall.
“So, Katrina, I take it that you cannot sing.”
“I’m sor—”
Shizuka put her finger to her lips.
“Katrina, I understand. It’s not that simple. So, just imagine, what would you sing, if you could?”
Katrina closed her eyes and thought of every song she wanted to sing, as a child, at karaoke—every “Happy Birthday” that she could not join in, every “America the Beautiful” in which she could not participate. She thought of Christmas, wishing she could do more than mouth “O Holy Night.”
“Now, pick up Aubergine and your bow. Do not open your eyes.”
“Miss Satomi?”
“You are holding a violin, but you are not holding a violin. You are simply in your body. Forget vibrato, glissando, crescendo, diminuendo. Forget sautillé and ricochet. Just be there, in your body.”
Katrina nodded. Aubergine’s newfound lightness made it easier to forget she was there.
Yes, Leopold Auer was right. But Leopold Auer had never been conditioned so completely to despise his own voice.
Shizuka hit middle C.
“… ah-Ah-AH-AH-AH-Ah-ah…”
Then the D.
“… ah-Ah-AH-AH-AH-Ah-ah…”
Then the E.
“… ah-Ah-AH-AH-AH-Ah-ah!”
And besides, there was more than one way to sing.
17
“Captain,” Markus Tran said, “statistically speaking, there is no way our customers should be detecting any repeat donuts. Perhaps the problem lies with the replicators, or with carbohydrate modeling, or even the emitters.”
“Emitters? Mother, if there is a problem with the emitters, that would also affect the space-time filaments. I suggest a level-four diagnostic,” Shirley said.
Lan nodded. “Make it so. We can afford neither defective space-time filaments, nor any further drops in donut sales.”
Edwin frowned. He knew that a level-four diagnostic, whatever it was, was not going to work. But what could he do? Unlike his sister, he had little aptitude for technology. As such, most of the crew thought he was useless.
Then Edwin noticed Aunty Floresta. She motioned to him and retreated to the kitchen. Edwin nodded and followed.
Once in the kitchen, she gave him a donut.
“Here, eat. What do you think?”
“Um. It’s okay.”
“Really?”
Aunty Floresta watched his reaction carefully.
“Get your coat,” she finally said.
Edwin and Aunty Floresta got to the stop just as the bus arrived. From there, the bus rumbled north, then east.
Edwin did not often leave the store, and when he did, he was usually with his mother in an automobile. The bus was completely different. Its rhythm had less to do with the red and green lights and more to do with people leaving and getting on. Sometimes there was a cart with groceries or a mother pushing a stroller.
So many different people! And Aunty Floresta seemed to know all of them. Edwin had never heard Aunty Floresta speak so much. Someone would get on the bus, Aunty Floresta would wave, and there would be more talk and laughter. Edwin could use Spanish, English, and Cantonese to take donut orders, but his great aunt was having real conversations.