[Short Story] Arthur Hirsch

This story is inspired by this portrait or Heechul in
Magolpy's MV that I watched back in early 2007 :D 

I am half-awake. It is almost eight o'clock from what I can tell, but Gosh, I am too lazy to open my eyes until a nurse comes into my room and pulls open the curtains. The sunshine blinds my already-closed eyes and forces me to wake up defiantly.

"Good morning, Ms. Sherman. How are you feeling?” she asks while examining me. Her name is Stella, a young strawberry-blonde nurse who always looks timid around me. Well, maybe she feels intimidated because I am the only daughter of the head chief of this hospital. I don't know.

"Good." I pluck the damn needle out of my vein and jump down from the bed, "I just need some fresh air." Her blue eyes are begging me to stay so I won't cause any problem for her. "I will tell father that it is my call." I walk to the door and turn my head right before I step out of the room, "and you can do me a courtesy of making a medical certificate saying that I won't be going for classes in a week." I walk out of the room.

***

I decide to take a walk around the hospital yard, just to escape the hell out of that boring-to-death room. It is such a beautiful Sunday morning, just that I woke up at the wrong place. I should be at home getting ready for my contemporary dance practice. But the fatigue has gotten me at last. My mother insists that I stop dancing and focus on my doctoral study instead. She wants me to be like my father, but I just want to be more like me.

Tired of walking, I sit on an empty bench under the tree, closing my eyes, just enjoying the sun, the wind, and the silence. To my surprise, I hear an instrumental sound not far from where I sit. I open my eyes and look around. I see some children, a couple of elderly on their wheelchairs, and a man in suit playing his violin under a tree not far from mine. The song is so intense. There is a lot of emotion in it that I cannot quite tell. I close my eyes and imagining myself dancing to it. It is full of passion. So sad. So dramatic. So…..alive. I am so drawn into my imagination that I don't realize the music has stopped. I open my eyes and scan through my surrounding. There is no trace of him.

***

The next day, I find myself walking to the bench again and thank God that he is there. It is the same song as yesterday. I quickly sit and close my eyes, try to memorize the dance moves that I can make out of this song. But then again, he is gone while I open my eyes. This is weird.

***

The third day, I get there earlier, but he is already there, not yet playing the song. He glances at me, and I don't know but why he looks a little bit surprise. I close my eyes waiting, a little bit excited to rewind all the moves that I manage to memorize yesterday. "I should ask him for the title of this song once he finishes," I thought to myself. He is finally reaching the end of the song, the climax. I danced passionately in my imagination. Then I struck, but he has disappeared. "Tomorrow," I got up "tomorrow I won't close my eyes." This is getting annoying!

***

The fourth day, I come a bit late, been having a stomachache since dawn. I am sitting on a beach closer to him. He hasn't play his jam yet, probably waiting for his loyal listener - me. Today he pulls his black hair up, leaving just the side fringe down. He looks so...artistic. I keep my eyes open, watching him finally engrossed in his own play. "Ms. Sherman!!" I hear Stella screaming from afar. She is out of breath, probably has been running around to find me. I go after her, do not want her to disturb the performance. "Someone named Mr. Koon is waiting for you. He said that it's very urgent." She suddenly grabs my hand and drags me. I battle, but damn she has a lot of strength stored in that tiny body. “And your father just called to check on you. You are 30 minutes late to take your medicine, and I’m not backing off today.” Shoot!

"Estelle!" Mr. Koon looks very excited to see me. It's weird because I never saw him showing any kind of emotion, including smiling. Well, unless while he’s dancing, he becomes a whole different person. "Remember the contemporary dance audition I told you last time?" he grabs my shoulder "I sent your practice video, and you are accepted!!" He shakes my body excitedly. Oh my God! It is my dream to perform in that show. I know that if I win, I’ll gain my parents’ acknowledgement and they will finally let me do what I love the most. To my excitement, I blurt out about the violin guy, and my A-plan to use his song for my performance. I’m just so sure that I’ll nail it. 

***

The fifth day, I sit on a bench right in front of him, waiting him to finish. It is strange because it seems only me that is enjoying the performances. Those kids and elderly clearly do not understand about art. Poor them.

"Hey!" I jump out of the bench nervously right after he finishes the song, "I am Estelle Sherman. Do you mind telling me where I can get the song that you just played?" 

He just stares at me in disbelief.

“Why? Well, can you PLEASE at least tell me what the title of the song is?” I beg him a bit.

“It’s secret” He answers shortly and starts packing his stuffs in hurry.

I am dumbfounded, in a major disbelief on how unfriendly this guy can be. “So, here’s the thing…” I try to press my annoyance as he keeps ignoring me “I am a dancer and there is this really important competition coming up. Well, maybe you don’t have any idea on how important this is for me or maybe you just don’t care, but I really need…”

“It Secret” he cuts off my talk, looking straight to my eyes as he finishes up his packing. Some parts of my words earlier definitely caught him. “The title is Secret.” I can see him smiling inside through his eyes.

“Oh” I blush “Then, would you mind telling me who is the composer? Just so I can get the right song.”

“Arthur Hirsch.” Now he does smile “but you won’t find it anywhere. It’s not yet published.”

It takes me about 7 seconds to go straight from a deep confusion to an extreme awe.  “Are you Arthur?”

“Nice to meet you, Estelle” He smiles, showing off this white teeth. And it takes less than a minute for him to go straight from a super annoying stranger to this charming mysterious man.

My heart skips a beat. My body freezes, but my eyes are exploring his pale face. I can see some fading scars on his face. Not from acne or break-out, but more like incisions from sharp objects, like glass shards. Haven’t I come back from heaven, a soft voice from a sick young boy suddenly surprised me “what are you looking at?”

A little bit pissed because he disturbs my moment, I ask him back “what are YOU looking at?”

“Why are you talking to yourself?” He wonders.

I wonder back. I am just about to point at Arthur, but then I realize that he is gone. Like a wind. Leave me looking like some kind of patient from a mental hospital.

***

The sixth day, I find out that walking to the bench has become a habit of mine. I really can’t wait to see him today. I have been thinking about him since yesterday, I even saw him in my dream; sitting beside my bed, watching me sleeping.

Finally I arrive at our secret rendezvous, excitedly, but he is nowhere to be found. I wait and wait until the sun reaches its peak and wait again until it nearly sets. Stella has to come and drag me back for the second time because I haven’t had anything since morning. I am so disappointed, confused, and worried.

I am lying on my bed, dazing at my terrace. I don’t know since when it becomes so seductive. I go there, just to clear up my mind. The view from this 15^th floor is so beautiful, why haven’t I just once come to this terrace during my stay in this hospital? Satisfied looking at the sunset, I throw my vision to the park nearby. People are getting ready to get back in as the darkness approaches; except for this familiar figure who just standing beside the swing, waving at me. It’s my violin guy! I ran towards him.

“Why didn't you come this morning?” I ask

“I am sorry” He looks sad “my family visited me today. They haven’t visited me for quite some time.”

“How long have you been here?” I am curious “And why are you even here in the first place?”

He doesn't answer my question. Instead, he talks about other things, many other things. About his childhood, about his stubbornness, about his dream, about Secret. I always know that we both have a connection, but never expected that it would be our dream. He is just like me, trying to prove to our parents that our dreams are worth living for.

“You will, you know” I assure him “be a great violist”

He smile bitterly, “Maybe I would, but I couldn't”

“What do you mean?” I am confused “don’t give up on your dream just because anyone else does not support you” My tone raises.

“It’s really great to finally meet you, Estelle” He smiles “you should win the competition then; for the sake of both of us” He walks back to the building.

I run after him. “Why do I feel like a goodbye right here?” The thought suddenly makes me very sad “Are you leaving? Have you recharged from this hospital? Is there any way we can still keep in touch?”

He just smiles, ignoring my questions attack “I’ll pay you a visit tomorrow. Now have some good sleep, Estelle.” He stops at 13^th floor. I just stand there looking at his back before the elevator doors close down.

***

“Estelle” a familiar voice wakes me up, “Come on, it’s already ten o’clock. We’re leaving after you have your breakfast. Have you been studying for your test?”

“Mom?” Suddenly I realize that this is my last day here “Was there anyone coming when I was sleeping?”

“No. Why?” She looks curious, but that doesn't stop her for packing my clothes up.

I quickly go to the 13^th floor, hoping that Arthur hasn't left yet. I force Stella to find out in which room he is staying and start running there. Stella is chasing me, trying to prevent me to get in the room. “What’s the big deal, Stella?” I am annoyed.

To my surprise, there are lots of people in that room. Everyone looks so sad, some are even crying. A lady beside the bed whom I assume to be Mrs. Hirsch can’t even stand on her own feet because she is so weak from all her crying. I step inside the room and there he is, sleeping on the bed peacefully in spite of all the screaming and crying. I just stand there, not knowing what to do. Then Stella pulls me out.

“You can’t get in there, Miss” She holds both of my hands which have turned pale and cold “You are not supposed to interfere, unless you are a relative which I am sure that you are not.”

I whisper “what happened to him?”

"He had a fatal car crash six months ago. Ever since, he has been in comma, struggling for his life. A couple times the doctor said that he wouldn't make it, but he miraculously lived yet another night as if he was still meant to do something. But last night he finally let go, peacefully. Well, I guess his business is over at last.”

It creeps me out. I go back to my room, shaken. Well, how can I not?? I talked to him every day for the past six days. I talked to a spirit for crying out loud!

“Estelle, where did you go?” My mom asks “A guy came and left you these things. You bought a violin, Estelle? For real?”

“No” I almost lost my voice in fear “what guy, Mom?”

“This tall and skinny guy, dressed in suit. Is he some kind of ball dance refugee?” She joked around before realizing that her daughter is in fright “Why? You don’t know this guy? I thought he is a friend of yours.”

I reach for the envelope on top of the violin case and open it. There is a CD and a note saying: The Secret is yours. I believe in you, Estelle. Good luck. -Arthur Hirsch I become so overwhelmed. The fright was nonsense. He was once a friend, physically or spiritually, and now I  might have lost him forever. The sadness suddenly clouded me, and I can’t hold my tears anymore.

“Estelle? What’s going on? Do you want me to return it to him, or just throw it away?” My Mom starts to worry.

“It’s okay, Mom” I smile behind my tears “It’s a gift”

***

Couple months have passed and everything is going really well. Even though Arthur is gone, but his masterpiece lives on. The Secret has gone viral and people start to wonder about Arthur Hirsch. However, what people know of him is only as far as the Secret goes. As in for our little secret, it will stay hidden. 

Sometimes, I would hear the sound of his violin in the middle of night from where I keep it, and I know that he is there. I am just waiting for the time when he would finally come to me. Then we will talk until the dawn.