CHAPTER 12

THE PRIVATE RECITAL

23 JULY 2002

Alone, sitting in the beam of light in the center of the stage, she sat.

The theatre echoed with the haunting sounds of the violin as she played it.

Her brown, sightless eyes stared out over the empty seats.

Of all the cities in which to dictate bizarre terms, she chose this one.

After the spotlight had been turned on her, the lightman had left the building. Everyone was gone.

Alone, she sat, in the empty theatre, rehearsing, for the show she was to do that night.

Only she wasn't alone.

In the upper balcony, concealed by the darkness, I sat, watching.

He arose, and began walking up the aisle.

"Hello?" the young lady said. "Is there someone there?"

Still holding the now-silent violin beneath her chin, she waited a reply.

Instead, I turned, looked back at her, then turned back towards the exit, and made his way through it.

Another night, perhaps.

Another time, perhaps.

But tonight, tonight was a private recital.