Listen to the Violin

A storm was coming.  It had been raining all day, so the lightening didn’t surprise her.

Rosalie reached for the ringing phone.

“Hello?” her tired voice lingered on the word.

“Rosalie, it’s Mom.”

“Hi. How have you been?” Rosalie asked as she stared down at her hangnail.

“Well, I’ve been alright Rosy, but your father just –”

Rosalie interrupted, “My audition for Ascoltare La Musica is today.  It’s a beautiful opera.  But they need six violinists and I really think I can get the part.”

“Rosy, have you been reading the paper or watching the news? This crazy man has been murdering young women and shaving their heads and sometimes their teeth are missing, or their limbs have been removed and it’s just, its just horrible. There have been two deaths in the last month; one, a very successful singer, and the other a figure skater in the Olympics - you know that red head?  Anyway, both of the murders occurred not too far from where you live and I just…”

“Mom, everything is fine.  I promise I won’t get murdered.”  A faint laugh escaped from her lips.  

“Don’t get smart with me. What, do you expect me not to worry? Your father even suggested that you come back to New York City with us for a while, but I knew you wouldn’t do that and then I…” She paused, and sighed.  “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will Mom. I promise. I have to go - I’m going to be late for my audition. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Good luck.”

Rosalie scrambled to grab her glasses, violin, and a bite to eat before leaving the house.  

As she walked down the street to the Opera House on 13^th and Palmetta she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand tall. She felt as if she was being followed.  She would turn around and swear that she saw someone out of the corner of her eye.    Rosalie pushed through the heavy doors and entered the old building.  Violins, cellos, and beautiful voices flooded her ears. She swallowed, feeling vaguely uneasy.

A short stumpy man stood at the door holding a clipboard and papers.  He looked up at Rosalie and smirked in a perverted way.  He held out her number but as she got closer he tried to clip it to the front of her shirt but she pulled back immediately.  “I can do it myself, thank you.” Rosalie was surprised at how cynical her voice sounded.  She felt that this doorman was a suspicious character, but realized that she was just paranoid.  She forced an awkward smile to redeem her rudeness.

Rosalie walked into the room tightly grasping her violin.  Her pale blonde hair shimmered.  There were four people sitting at a table facing her.   On the end was Vincenzo Molinelli, wearing a tuxedo with his head tilted down. He was dark and his skin seemed leathery with wisdom.  The other judges seemed bland and that made her feel calm.  Rosalie stood there waiting for a cue.

“Begin,” Vencenzo said softly, swooping his finger in the air.

As Rosalie played, the judges looked hypnotized.  Her sound held grace and beauty.  Although each note was played with precision, she made it look so easy.  Vincenzo Molinelli kept his head down, angled to one side, but he seemed enthralled with her sound. 

He interjected with applause as he nodded. He then stood up and walked out of the room.   Rosalie smiled and felt her cheeks flush. The woman at the end of the table told her that she should feel blessed for having this opportunity and how much of a genius Vincenzo Molinelli was.  She handed Rosalie a rehearsal schedule for Ascoltare La Musica. Rosalie slipped the sheet into her violin case and took a deep breath as Vincenzo re-entered. Rosalie was one of the last to audition and the selected group stood in the theater.

“Ascoltare La Musica began in Rome, in 1817.  It tells the story of two lovers, Bella, and Jacopo Ferretti.  The two are madly in love.  But on their wedding night she stands him up.  This devastates Ferretti so much that he kills Bella.”

 Rosalie could barely understand his thick Italian accent.  His bushy eyebrows overpowered his grey eyes.  “I am looking forward to working with you all. See you at rehearsal.” 

                                           *********************

“Good evening. I’m Carla Chin.  This evening the body of a twenty nine-year-old plastic surgeon, Jennifer Blunder, was found at 5:00 pm. on Fifteenth and Grand in an alley.  Her head was shaved but that was the only visible sign of mutilation.  An injection mark was found on her neck, possibly some sort of poison. Whoever is doing this is not trying to be inconspicuous.”

Rosalie sat in front of the television eating Rice Krispies with a ladle out of a salad bowl.  She got chills and changed the channel.   The phone rang, but Rosalie thought it would be her mother so she didn’t answer.

                                          ************************

Dark grey clouds scattered across the ominous sky. Sprinkles turned into heavy rain and Rosalie was now running to rehearsal, trying to stay as dry as possible. 

            Vincenzo called, “Rosalie.” Her name sounded way more beautiful with his accent.

            “Yes?” Her perky voice tried to show complete dedication and respect.

            “You have something, you know; something very special. Your sound, it is…it is different. I hear you when you play.”

            Rosalie looked at him in awe. She smiled.  “Coming from you that’s, well wow. Thank you.”

            “Let me teach you the solo you will be playing for the opening scene.”

            “What? Me?”

“No, the girl standing next to you. Yes, you!” Rosalie was embarrest by her childish reaction.

“I mean, thank you.” She said smiling.  Rosalie knew she was good, but Vincenzo Molinelli seemed to think she was brilliant.

            “Yes, come here tomorrow at 7:00 am. I will show you.” His sentences were usually short and simple. Never revealing too much about him.  He had been writing symphonies since he was a boy; he was born a natural prodigy.  His music was complex. His music was sharp.  His music was powerful. 

                                    ************************************

The knock on the door jerked Rosalie from her dreams, the incessant bangs clearing the sleep from her mind.  Who would be knocking at the door this early? Rosalie sat up, feeling slightly lightheaded.  She was apprehensive about opening the door.  What if they kill me? No, you’re just being paranoid.  She answered the door, slowly opening it to get a peek of who stood on the other side.  His face was uncomfortably close to hers. It was a tall man with fake black hair and hairy arms who appeared to be wearing eyeliner.

“Hi, are you Rosalie Wenden?” He smiled creepily.

“Yes…who are you?” Rosalie was ready to slam the door.  The man held something behind his back and she thought it could be a gun. His eyes were sunken and he looked as if he would have bad breath.

“Here, I have a package for you.  Just sign here.”

“Oh, uh yeah.” With a sigh of relief, Rosalie took the box, remembering she had ordered a new tuner for her violin.  She signed the clipboard and shut the door.

Rosalie showered and used her new jasmine and cucumber lotion. She picked up a black shirt and black pants from her floor and quickly got dressed.   

Strapping her violin to her back, she climbed on her blue bicycle and rode off.  Rosalie entered the Opera House, still shaken from her interaction with the UPS man.  The hall was darker than usual, but the neon lights reflected off the floor, creating rectangles of light on the ground.  Rosalie walked down the hall stepping only on the reflections, when she noticed Vincenzo standing outside of his office. 

“Hello, Rosalie. Are you ready to learn your solo?”

“I was born ready.”

“Good, well let’s take a look at the music. Step into my office.”  I’m actually going inside Vincenzo Molinelli’s office!

“You have a really nice office.” Rosalie scanned her eyes over all the nice pieces of art and music hanging on the walls.

“Wow, are these all your violins?”

“Yes, I had them all…custom made you could say.” Vincenzo smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“But Rosalie, I want to talk about you.  We both know you are special and special people deserve not to be wasted.”

Rosalie was far too distracted by the violins to respond.  She noticed some of the violins appeared to be made out of a different material than wood, a harder medium dyed darker.  

“And look at all these bows you have…wow, I’ve never seen colors like this but…” Rosalie paused.  She stared at Vincenzo’s bows lined up against the wall.  Usually the hairs were white, but he had light brown, dark brown, black and red…Horsetail isn’t red…it looks like human hair. Red.

Rosalie gasped at her epiphany. Red - like the girl from the Olympics.  He shaves his victims’ heads and uses their body parts to… Vincenzo interrupted her thoughts.

“Do you like those bows? If only I had a blonde one, my collection would be complete.”

Rosalie felt his hand stroke her head as he held a piece of her hair to his nose.  She began to breath hard but before she could turn around only darkness fell over her.

                                   *****************************

“Are you Ms. Wenden?”

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

“Hi. I’m the assistant coordinator, Jules.  You look so much like your daughter I knew you were related to her.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. Have you seen Rosalie? She was going to pick me up from the airport, but she didn’t answer her phone and I had to call a taxi.”

“Oh, I was going to ask you the same question. We have been frantically looking for her.  The show is going to start any minute and she plays the opening scene. This isn’t like her.”

“Well, I’ll keep calling her but I’m getting worried.”

“I’m sure she will get here soon.” The assistant coordinator smiled optimistically and took her seat next to Ms. Wenden in the balcony. The lights dimmed and a man walked out onto the stage. The curtains remained closed.

Jules whispered to Ms. Wenden “That’s Vincenzo Molinelli. He is a genius. He is very proud of Rosalie.  She plays so beautifully.”

Ms. Wenden half smiled, as she thought of possible places her daughter could be.

“Good evening.  Rosalie Wenden is not here tonight so I will be taking her place for the opening song - Ora siete mio.”  Vincenzo cleared his throat with arrogance and placed his chin on the violin, ready to play.  His posture was impeccable. 

The song began slowly. A beautiful melody floated through Ms. Wenden’s ears. She closed her eyes and moved with the music, as if taken over with passion. Something about this song and the way it was played touched her.  Goose bumps popped up from her arms as she listened.  Ms. Wenden felt her daughter in this song and disappointment itched her heart.  She looked up at Vincenzo absorbed in the sound.  The pale blonde hairs on the bow shimmered with each gentle arm movement.