On a cool, fall afternoon a young girl ran home from school. She pushed her straight, brown hair out of her eyes as she neared her house. She could not wait to tell her parents the exciting news. “Mom! Mom!” The girl burst through the kitchen door. Her mother looked up from peeling potatoes for their dinner. “What is it, Carmen?” she asked. “Mom, I was accepted! I’m going to audition!” “Audition for what?” “There is going to be one student that is chosen to play a solo in front of the whole school and also the parents. All the other children will accompany the soloist in the orchestra. But we have to audition first. The audition will be held on Friday. Then our orchestra teacher, Mrs. Newton, will pick the child to play the solo. I don’t know who I am competing against, though.” Carmen’s eyes shone. She was so glad that she knew how to play the violin. Ever since she was very young, Carmen loved the music of the violin, so her parents encouraged her to play. They had signed her up with an exceptionally good professional violinist, who gave Carmen lessons. Working hard, Carmen established a good rapport with her private lesson teacher, as well as her school orchestra teacher. Carmen’s parents were able to help her practice because they both played the piano very well. So, in this way, at eleven years old, Carmen was considered a very accomplished musician for her age. “That sounded very nice,” Gabriella said. “I really liked it” “What are you playing for the audition, Carmen?” Her mother’s voice broke through her daydreams. “Oh!” Carmen came back to earth. “I am playing the Vivaldi Concerto in A minor.” “The whole thing?” Carmen’s mother looked shocked. “That’s a very long piece you are taking on Carmen! Are you sure?” “Mom, I’ve been practicing the concerto for four months. I have almost fully mastered the last movement. The concert is two weeks away from now! I’m sure if I practice, then I will be ready in time for the audition.” Her mother sighed. “All right. If you say so,” she replied. “Good luck!” That night, after supper, Carmen studied her reflection in the mirror in her room. She did not think much of her appearance. It had been the same since third grade. Carmen had short, straight, rather stringy brown hair. She was sort of skinny, and shorter than most of the kids in her class. Oh, how Carmen wished that she looked like Gabriella, the new girl in her class. Gabriella had long, curly, golden hair. She had quickly become the most popular girl in the class. Gabriella chose her friends very carefully Carmen was not one of them. Sometimes Carmen saw Gabriella looking at her. It was almost as if she wanted to talk to Carmen. But every time Carmen had tried to smile, talk, or be friendly, Gabriella acted as if Carmen were not even there. Every time Carmen tried to start a conversation, Gabriella would turn away and start talking to her other friends, girls like her, who only thought about themselves and how they looked. So, Carmen had long since given up trying to be friends with Gabriella. For the rest of the week, Carmen practiced and practiced. She thought that perfecting the piece would help her feel better about performing. Instead, the more she played the concerto, the more nervous Carmen got. Again and again she told herself that it would be OK if she was not chosen to be the soloist. It did not help her one little bit! She, Carmen, wanted to be the one on stage on the night of the concert. * * * At the end of the first week, Friday morning, Carmen woke up early. This was the morning that she had been waiting for: the morning of the school audition. Carmen would also learn who she was competing against and what they were playing. Her heart thudding nervously in her chest, and with butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach, Carmen got in the car after breakfast and her mother drove her to school. Her father worked on weekdays. As soon as her mother had kissed her goodbye and driven away, Carmen went straight into the big assembly room in the school building, where the concert and audition were going to take place. Carmen took her violin carefully out of its case. She tuned it to the baby grand piano. The piano had a wonderful, ringing tone to it, and Carmen could not help but set down her violin in its case, sit down on the piano bench, and play a sonatina. Her mother and father had also taught her to play the piano. Knowing that she was very early, Carmen kept playing. Suddenly, the door behind Carmen opened. Startled, Carmen stopped playing and whirled around on the piano bench. Gabriella was standing there. To Carmen’s immense surprise, Gabriella gave Carmen a small smile. It was so small that Carmen could hardly see it, but it was still there, and it was still a small, but unmistakable smile. “That sounded very nice,” Gabriella said. “I really liked it. Do you think you could play it again?” Carmen felt so surprised that the girl she had tried so hard to be friends with, the girl who had always acted as if she were not there, was finally being nice to her. She immediately sat back down on the piano bench to play it again, when two very popular and not very nice girls came in. They both rushed over to Gabriella. “Gabby, we’ve been waiting and waiting for you,” one of the girls complained. “Where’ve you been? And what are you doing with her?” the second girl said rudely, pointing at Carmen. Without another glance at Carmen, Gabriella stalked out of the room. Carmen was almost in tears. Just when she had a perfect chance of becoming friends with Gabriella,
May/June 2006
Friendship
On a cool, fall afternoon a young girl ran home from school. She pushed her straight, brown hair out of her eyes as she neared her house. She could not wait to tell her parents the exciting news. “Mom! Mom!” The girl burst through the kitchen door. Her mother looked up from peeling potatoes for their dinner. “What is it, Carmen?” she asked. “Mom, I was accepted! I’m going to audition!” “Audition for what?” “There is going to be one student that is chosen to play a solo in front of the whole school and also the parents. All the other children will accompany the soloist in the orchestra. But we have to audition first. The audition will be held on Friday. Then our orchestra teacher, Mrs. Newton, will pick the child to play the solo. I don’t know who I am competing against, though.” Carmen’s eyes shone. She was so glad that she knew how to play the violin. Ever since she was very young, Carmen loved the music of the violin, so her parents encouraged her to play. They had signed her up with an exceptionally good professional violinist, who gave Carmen lessons. Working hard, Carmen established a good rapport with her private lesson teacher, as well as her school orchestra teacher. Carmen’s parents were able to help her practice because they both played the piano very well. So, in this way, at eleven years old, Carmen was considered a very accomplished musician for her age. “That sounded very nice,” Gabriella said. “I really liked it” “What are you playing for the audition, Carmen?” Her mother’s voice broke through her daydreams. “Oh!” Carmen came back to earth. “I am playing the Vivaldi Concerto in A minor.” “The whole thing?” Carmen’s mother looked shocked. “That’s a very long piece you are taking on Carmen! Are you sure?” “Mom, I’ve been practicing the concerto for four months. I have almost fully mastered the last movement. The concert is two weeks away from now! I’m sure if I practice, then I will be ready in time for the audition.” Her mother sighed. “All right. If you say so,” she replied. “Good luck!” That night, after supper, Carmen studied her reflection in the mirror in her room. She did not think much of her appearance. It had been the same since third grade. Carmen had short, straight, rather stringy brown hair. She was sort of skinny, and shorter than most of the kids in her class. Oh, how Carmen wished that she looked like Gabriella, the new girl in her class. Gabriella had long, curly, golden hair. She had quickly become the most popular girl in the class. Gabriella chose her friends very carefully Carmen was not one of them. Sometimes Carmen saw Gabriella looking at her. It was almost as if she wanted to talk to Carmen. But every time Carmen had tried to smile, talk, or be friendly, Gabriella acted as if Carmen were not even there. Every time Carmen tried to start a conversation, Gabriella would turn away and start talking to her other friends, girls like her, who only thought about themselves and how they looked. So, Carmen had long since given up trying to be friends with Gabriella. For the rest of the week, Carmen practiced and practiced. She thought that perfecting the piece would help her feel better about performing. Instead, the more she played the concerto, the more nervous Carmen got. Again and again she told herself that it would be OK if she was not chosen to be the soloist. It did not help her one little bit! She, Carmen, wanted to be the one on stage on the night of the concert. * * * At the end of the first week, Friday morning, Carmen woke up early. This was the morning that she had been waiting for: the morning of the school audition. Carmen would also learn who she was competing against and what they were playing. Her heart thudding nervously in her chest, and with butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach, Carmen got in the car after breakfast and her mother drove her to school. Her father worked on weekdays. As soon as her mother had kissed her goodbye and driven away, Carmen went straight into the big assembly room in the school building, where the concert and audition were going to take place. Carmen took her violin carefully out of its case. She tuned it to the baby grand piano. The piano had a wonderful, ringing tone to it, and Carmen could not help but set down her violin in its case, sit down on the piano bench, and play a sonatina. Her mother and father had also taught her to play the piano. Knowing that she was very early, Carmen kept playing. Suddenly, the door behind Carmen opened. Startled, Carmen stopped playing and whirled around on the piano bench. Gabriella was standing there. To Carmen’s immense surprise, Gabriella gave Carmen a small smile. It was so small that Carmen could hardly see it, but it was still there, and it was still a small, but unmistakable smile. “That sounded very nice,” Gabriella said. “I really liked it. Do you think you could play it again?” Carmen felt so surprised that the girl she had tried so hard to be friends with, the girl who had always acted as if she were not there, was finally being nice to her. She immediately sat back down on the piano bench to play it again, when two very popular and not very nice girls came in. They both rushed over to Gabriella. “Gabby, we’ve been waiting and waiting for you,” one of the girls complained. “Where’ve you been? And what are you doing with her?” the second girl said rudely, pointing at Carmen. Without another glance at Carmen, Gabriella stalked out of the room. Carmen was almost in tears. Just when she had a perfect chance of becoming friends with Gabriella,
Iristerra
At the very western tip of the world lies a land of clear waters and cold winters, where wild storms turn the sky and sea to dark gray, and white-sailed fishing boats once glided like swans over white-crested waves. During one particularly fearsome storm, where thunder crashed and lightning lit up the sky for miles, a group of travelers huddled in an inn. “Tell us a tale then,” urged one cloaked traveler, nursing a cup of something hot and nasty smelling. “Something to take our minds off this dratted thunder!” The flimsy wooden shutters rattled open, lending the occupants a view of huge waves pounding relentlessly against the rocks and cliff where the inn was perched, punctuated every few minutes by another bright flash of lightning falling out of the sky The innkeeper’s wife hurried forward to bolt the shutters closed, replacing the view of storm-tossed ocean with badly-painted shutter. “Come on now, Fion,” added a raggedy-looking woman in a faded red cloak smoking a pipe, “best make it quick though, before this whole cursed rock falls into the sea.” “It just so happens that I know the perfect tale for nights like these” “All right then,” conceded Fion, a younger man with a mane of long brown hair tied back at the nape of his neck, who wore a battered hat with a feather. “It just so happens that I know the perfect tale for nights like these,” he said, standing up and bowing grandly to the other inn’s guests. A storyteller by trade, he made his living by keeping audiences enthralled. The woman, Nell, told fortunes, and the other man, well, he made sure that no one bothered their small band. Together they lived their lives traveling, surviving off the small coins tossed into his cap after a performance. ” As I was saying,” Fion stepped forward into the firelight, casting dark shadows over his usually handsome face, “storms like these bring to mind a certain tale I heard a while back. You folks ever heard of Searain?” he asked, mentioning a rocky peninsula a little ways north and east of the inn. The inn’s guests nodded. “Funny name for it, eh? Seeing as there’s been no rain there for over a decade, nearly thirteen years it’s been, now, hasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t always like that. Used to be the wettest point around here, and that, my friends,” he said, as the rain pounded on the roof and the storm still raged outside, “is saying something. Now the Fisherfolk used to be quite common here in Iristerra,” he continued, naming this land where the colors of the sea and land shifted and changed like the rainbow. “Few years ago, the Fisherfolk were as common as seagulls and as good at fishing too, but then came that huge storm, you remember that one, Nell? Nearly washed her wagon off the road, it did. I was only a young man then, just starting out on my own, before I joined up with the Travelers. Wiped most nearly all of the Fisherfolk out, and the ones that survived left after that. Nowadays it’s rare to see those beautiful boats with sails like wings sailing down the harbor.” He surveyed his audience, the inn’s guests ignoring their drinks and turning their faces to the storyteller. Even the innkeeper’s wife had stopped wiping out glasses to listen. “Once, not so long ago, when the Fisherfolk sailed these waters, was a young woman who lived on one of those boats, one of the Fisherfolk, yes, but different. Most of those in Iristerra have light hair, pale brown or yellow as daffodils. Her hair, though, was dark as midnight on the water, and some said that it shown with blue and green lights when the firelight hit it. “These people live by the sea, off the fish they catch. Most never leave their boats except to trade in the town. Rather like us Travelers, in some aspects. She, however, could often be seen wandering along the shore or in the town whenever her boat wasn’t anchored too far off shore. She never learned to fish; how to haul in a net or fillet a catch. Refused even to watch a hook and line, something even they let their youngsters do. “She could swim, though. Swim like a fish or a seal, her eyes glistening blue-gray like the sea itself. She could even catch fish with her bare hands, but would always let them go. Odd, that was, considering that most of the Fisherfolk never learn how to swim. Say that if they can’t trust their boats from not sinking, then what’s the point? Uncanny, they said. Unnatural even.” He paused, taking a sip from a mug that the innkeeper’s wife offered him. One day though, as her man was pulling in the day’s catch, the woman saw something strange “Some even called her a weather-witch, one who could tame the winds and ride the storm. And it was true that on days when the wind howled and the rain nearly washed the paint off their boat, she could be seen balancing on the bowsprit, right above the figurehead, and that dolphins came to her call. But the Fisherfolk all have their way with the ocean; it’d be considered uncanny and unnatural if dolphins didn’t come to their call. Half-dolphin already, the whole pack of ’em, leastways they were. “Some called her a Selkie, one of the seals that could turn into people, and that one day she would up and vanish to join her kinsmen beneath the waves. She didn’t though. Maybe she was a very patient Selkie. Maybe she was just human. In time she took up with a feller from Searain, a handsome one by all accounts, not one of the Fisherfolk, a merchant lad he was. He fell in love though, as all who met her did, and left dry land to join her and her family on their boat
