Ellen Seidel smiled. Yes! The student was even worse than Ellen had imagined. Surely, Tamiko would see Shizuka Satomi had gone either crazy, or senile, or both.
Katrina felt herself twisting back, back to Evan in the shower, the women on the bus ride, her father kicking the door. She was a dumbass. A tranny. Worthless. Ugly.
Then Katrina remembered.
What do you smell?
The boxes of donuts. The grass, the car exhaust, the kids smoking weed …
Fresh rosin, gently dusting her bow. The perfume Astrid had lent her, wafting off her skin, her hair, her beautiful, shimmering dress.
Suddenly, she was back onstage.
Okay.
She was onstage, and she was in trouble. But she was playing. Katrina relaxed her wrist, and Aubergine instantly responded.
Good. I still have technique.
Her legs steadied. Yes, she had her legs … Kev had called them gorgeous, hadn’t they?
And Aubergine.
Remember? Eggplant?
Katrina let herself smile. Gradually, her eyes became used to the spotlight. She looked into the park, and something glinted at her, and there was one face, a little boy with glasses, his head propped up on his hands, watching intently.
The child was looking at her as if she were an angel.
And then, “Oh shit! She’s playing Axxiom!” a voice in the darkness said.
Darkness. Katrina recalled all the nights she had spent listening in the dark. But where she had been alone before, now there were others. They were listening. They were feeling.
A friendly face. A supportive glance. Whether or not she could see them, Katrina knew they were there.
Ellen Seidel noticed the change, but surely this was all due to Shizuka Satomi’s arrangement, right? Whatever else she was, Shizuka Satomi was a masterful illusionist.
The bowing was dynamic, but conventional. The string jumps were fast and pretty, but they spanned nearly identical intervals. And, whenever possible, Shizuka had slipped in an option to sound an open A or D in case her student needed to check her intonation.
This was the perfect way to make a beginner seem better than she was.
But then Ellen Seidel noticed Tamiko Grohl swaying, her eyes tightly shut. She looked around at the rest of the park, all taken by this music. And then, the music took Ellen Seidel as well.
In Axxiom, mathematical and logical concepts were personified as nonplayer characters. Working with them created the laws of your universe, and from there, one could build ever more elaborate and involved realities. The music to the game reflected this—developing, curving back on itself, creating new complexities that curved and developed in turn.
Katrina had imagined that there would be a time onstage where she would sneak a peek at Astrid for reassurance, or to Miss Satomi for strength. But instead, Katrina focused on that boy with glasses. And next to him was a girl with a Poké Ball hanging off her violin case.
Katrina heard an old woman collecting plastic bottles. And somewhere was a girl feeling too awkward in her flowery dress.
From the darkness, Katrina willed her violin to build their world. To let there be light, let there be colors, then calculus and molecules and starlit vistas, let there be home after home after home where no one yelled and no one was beaten.
You can do this, Katrina’s song seemed to tell them. This is your universe. Your creation. Please don’t be afraid. Let’s not be afraid anymore.
A few more people stopped to listen. Some kids rode up on their bicycles. A young couple with a baby stroller. A man holding a dirty jacket and a lunch box.
Katrina played for people who loved Axxiom. For people who never played Axxiom all their lives. Katrina played for people who had never thought they could play the game at all.
As she played, she thought of a helpful voice bringing clothes she wanted, a friendly face selling Cinnabons.
This world is for you. You. You.
You …
She hadn’t even noticed when she had stopped playing.
Katrina looked at Astrid, then the audience. Finally, she realized the music was over. Then the crowd started clapping. It felt like sunshine. It sounded like rain.
She looked for her teacher, but Ms. Satomi was not in her seat. She started walking offstage to find her, but Astrid grabbed her arm.
“Katrina, thank your fans.”
Oh. Oh!
Katrina bowed. She bowed once more, and again. Then, as her legs turned to jelly beneath her, she held on to Astrid’s arm and somehow managed to leave the stage.
Immediately, Katrina was surrounded by festival staff, and then others who had come around behind the stage. Some wanted to thank her. Others wanted to share their love of violin, or ask if she played music from other games and where could they find more of her music.