The Piano Boy

The summer after seventh grade. Watching my performance of “Moonlight Sonata” from Charles M. Schulz’s You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.

“Do ya know something Schroeder? I think the way you play the piano is nice. Do ya know something else? It’s always been my dream that I’d marry a man who plays the piano.”

You know that line where you say you’d marry a man who plays the piano?

Yes?

It’s prophetic.

A pause.

You mean …

I looked at the boy sitting at the piano in front of the stage. Just then his face contorted into the figure of a squashed elf’s countenance, an autistic smile stretched across his reddened face.

I don’t know …

All of a sudden, it became worried.

Pause.

I’m sorry. Don’t let that affect whether he’ll be my husband or not. Let Your will be done for who my husband will be.

It went away.

~~~~~

Ninth grade. I was Alice in the play A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (adaptation by Richard Powers Hardt). I sang “Oh Holy Night” in my scene. He accompanied me onstage on the piano.

The hour before opening night.

I was playing the piano. “The Lord is My Shepherd” by Keith Green. He was there. I was tempted to impress him. I tried to suppress it.

“Hey, Amy, guess what!” someone said.

“What?”

“Our little opera singer is also a rockin’ pianist!”

He looked up at me. That distracted me.

Father, help me to just worship in spirit and in truth.

A little while. He looked down again. I kept playing. I started singing in my heart.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

He looked up again. He wouldn’t look away.

Father, help me to just worship you in spirit and in truth.

He stared at me. A little while passed. Still staring at me, he walked out of my field of vision.

I kept playing.

~~~~~

Backstage during the show. I sat on the piano bench, bending over and praying.

Erika, don’t do that. People will notice you and see that you’re praying.

I kept praying. Then I got up and went to the theater closet to check on my costume.

He followed me.

Erika, you shouldn’t have done that. People could see that you were praying.

I thought. Was that so wrong?

I got to my costume piece and stopped.

Father, forgive me for bending over while praying.

I looked up. He was there. He smiled and left.

I watched him as he walked away.

He will be your husband.

I thought. I don’t know…

Is it because he’s not passionate enough?

No, it’s just … I don’t know if he’s the one.

~~~~~

The next night. Before the show. He was at the piano with his hands on the keys.

“Hey, Kim said no playing!” Nick said.

“I’m not playing, I’m air-playing.”

“Kim’s gonna be mad when she sees you playing.”

“But I’m not playing, I’m air-playing!”

I got up. “I wonder if I could sing along…”

Kim said no singing.

I know, but I could sing quietly.

No. Kim said no singing.

But you’re playing the piano!

I’m not playing! I’m air-playing!

I know, but I once got in trouble for air-playing the piano at a party when they told me not to play.

Erika, listen to him.

Why should I listen to him?!

Because I’m your husband!

I stared.

He was frowning at me in chastisement.

After a while, he closed the piano cover and went back to his seat. I did the same.

~~~~~

Driving home.

Will he really be my husband? Father, if it is true, please give me confirmation.

You will receive confirmation on Monday.

Monday?

I realized a voice was talking to me.

Okay.

~~~~~

Monday. Period seven. I was finishing a timed write in office nine.

Passing period began. Students started filing out of office eight and lining up in front of the door to the hallway. He was there.

He was looking me.

I looked down at my paper.

Okay, so why does the merchant’s wife try to deceive her husband?

…

Is he still looking at me?

I looked up. He was still looking at me.

The door opened, and all the students started filing out. He turned around. I looked back at my paper.

He will be your husband—A different voice.

Yes, he will be your husband, and you will—

Shouldn’t I be thinking about my essay?

It stopped.

Oh wait, did I interrupt?

It wouldn’t continue.

Well … thank you, Father, for confirming that he would be my husband.

I resumed my essay.

~~~~~

Doubt.

The Winter Concert. He was accompanying the choir on the piano. I watched.

How did he get picked to play for the Winter Concert?

…

You will serve the Lord together in performances.

It was a message come late. It was meant for an earlier time.

I remembered when I prayed every night in eighth grade that my future husband would love me, and that I would love him, and that we would both love the Lord with all our hearts, and that we would serve Him, together, with all our hearts. This was the answer to my prayers.

~~~~~

That night.

Thank you, Father, for confirming that he would be my husband.