She started out and then turned to us.
"Well? Why are you all still sitting there? You have responsibilities. I've spent hours and hours, days and days preparing you for meeting people in events such as these. I don't expect anyone will let me down. Ice, fix your hair. Cinnamon, straighten out that ridiculous skirt. Rose, didn't I tell you to use less lipstick? Wipe it off and put it on lightly, lightly. Honey..."
"Yes, Madame Senetsky."
"Come along. I have someone I want to introduce you to myself. Quickly," she ordered. and I jumped up, looked at the others and they followed her and Edmond. Just outside the door. I paused and turned back to face my three sisters. No one spoke.
No one had to.
We all simply hugged each other.
And then we went to the reception.
Epilogue
Howard was gone before morning. I thought to myself that it was the surprises that made our lives interesting and even exciting. To live in a predictable world was to live in a world without high drama, a world without Madame Senetsky. Wasn't it really only when my music reached another level, an unexpected original tarn that Mr. Berman, and the audiences to follow, would smile or feel genuinely touched?
Of the six of us. Howard Rockwell began with the most assurance he would succeed. He was so convinced of it, he convinced us as well, and for a while. I think that gave me a distaste for success. If this was the sort of person who found accomplishment in the arts, then maybe the arts were really not for me after all.
Madame Senetsky said very little about him specifically. At dinner the following evening, she spoke about compassion and how important an ingredient that was in creating a successful actor, a successful performer in any field of artistic endeavor.
"The truly neat actors of my time were those men and women who could empathize and
sympathize with the tragic characters they played. If they thought themselves better or above sincere human emotions, they would never have touched so many. One can master the technique, but he or she has to have soul."
Howard would probably find his way into something. I thought. but he would never be satisfied; he would never be happy, and if you can't be satisfied with yourself, be happy with yourself, you could never satisfy others, you could never make others happy.
I didn't have to travel all this way and live in a big, sophisticated city to know that. My family had taught me that long ago.
Uncle Peter had taught me that.
I had gone flying with him a few times before his tragic death. Mommy wasn't happy about it. but I had such confidence in him. I wasn't afraid. And when we were up there above the clouds, where there was only pure blue sky around us. I did feel some of the beauty he felt.
"We're on God's front porch." he would tell me.
"It's wonderful." I said. "I should take flying lessons. too. I suppose."
He smiled at me and shook his head.
"No. Honey. You'll get here your own way. through your music. You'll fly with your violin. You'll be on the wings of angels."
I didn't know what to make of those words. I was too young then.
Years and years later. after I left Madame Senetskys School. I was on a stage in front of thousands of people. I was doing a solo. The music did make me soar. I thought about Uncle Peter.
And when I closed my eyes, I knew. I was on God's front porch.