The Gifted Musician

The serene morning arrived after the season's first snowfall covered the ground with a pristine white blanket. The soft flow of the sun gently peered through thick clouds, casting a hazy light over sprawling neighborhoods that were nestled against rugged mountains. Several cars lined the curbside of 6041 Rockwood Avenue, and the neighbors were as curious as they were perturbed by the unsightly disruption that cluttered the street's entryway into the immaculate cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Denver. In the yard, large placard letters were dug into the frozen ground, proudly displayed in front of a neatly manicured and well-maintained cookie-cutter home.

"OK…open your eyes."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARI!

As Ari's eyelids slowly opened, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy. His grin widened as he saw a huge display of his name, three times the size of his normally reserved personality. Ari followed his dad along a winding concrete path leading to their front door as he held an oversized stack of pastel-colored presents that were elaborately garnished with silky ribbons. When Jordan opened the door, Ari's biggest fears came true.

"Surprise!" The thunderous roar of a vibrant crowd startled him, and he instinctively hid behind his birthday presents, but it was too late to hide from his own birthday party.

He recognized some of the guests, mainly his mom's friends and some of the parents involved with the school board. They were holding up their phones to capture the rare moment where Ari was beaming with a mix of apprehension and delight as he scanned the crowd for Hannah's face. When he found her, she was holding a tall, oversized cake with candles protruding above dense blue frosting, her smile so radiant that when he fixed his eyes on her, all of his anxiety disintegrated immediately.

"Hey, honey! Come blow out your candles!" Her meager voice was barely able to rise above the cheerful chatter of the crowd, and Ari hurriedly made his way through a maze of modern furniture to stand in front of her. It was only then that he noticed the candles were unconventional, their continuous sparks twirling around like miniature dancing fireworks.

"Make a wish!" She muttered through an oversized grin, low enough that only he could hear her.

He closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of something to wish for, but he was put on the spot in front of everyone, causing his mind to go blank. After he inhaled as much as his lungs would allow, he released a burst of air at the candles, blowing out all but 4 of the 12 whose O² sensors failed to recognize his breath.

Hannah carefully cut ice cream cake into perfectly symmetrical portions, the only kind her son would tolerate. After giving Ari the first, she went around handing slices to the other guests, engaged in witty banter with the other moms while Dad was surrounded by a group of men, sharing hushed jokes with laughter barely audible to anyone else.

The kids Ari's age formed a group so exclusive that he didn't feel welcomed enough to join, not even at his birthday party. As he turned to walk away, he noticed a girl staring back at him. It was Zoie Luther, his crush, who would often wave at him with curious eyes through crowded hallways and the chaotic scene of the cafeteria at school. Whenever he saw those eyes, he would try to avoid her, using other kids as shields. However, no matter how much he avoided her, she would somehow reappear before him, and the two would end up inching closer to each other as if there was some kind of magnetic force between them.

The fact that she was a guest at his party was more than a random anomaly that could have only been the result of his mother's handiwork. Although he tried glaring at her for such a presumptuous move, she didn't notice, and he figured he'd scold her later in private. Until then, he planned to hide in the kitchen, far from the possibility that anyone would strike up a conversation with him and far from the chance of any further embarrassment, until suddenly the sound of shattering glass cut through the ambient chatter, stealing everyone's attention.

When Hannah glanced around the living room, she couldn't find her son. In a sudden rush of maternal fear, she quickly paced from room to room before she found him crouched on the floor, his head buried into his lap while his hands were pressed against the temples of his forehead.

"What's going on in here?" She asked under her breath with furrowed brows, careful not to garner further attention from the other guests. With each step she took towards him, a faint crunching sound emanated from under her shoes. Startled, she glanced down and, upon increasing the brightness of the kitchen lights, discovered that she was standing on scattered shards of broken glass. "Oh no! Sweetheart…headaches again?"

"Yeah, and this one really hurts." Ari whimpered quietly, cringing as tears began to welt his eyes from the unbearable pain.

Hannah gracefully lowered herself to gently drape him in her arms. She subtly motioned to her husband to bring the festivities to an end before guiding everyone out of the house to shield their son from further embarrassment. They had experienced the same situation many times before, and the chances of his condition improving in the next few hours were exceedingly slim.

As Jordan tended to Ari, Hannah urgently called his physician at the medical research institute from the privacy of her bedroom.

"How's he holding up?" The physician asked with concern from the other side of the call.

"I feel like it gets worse every time. I'm really worried about him," Hannah replied, her voice filled with equal warmth and anxiety.

"You tell him I said to hang in there. I'll have something for the pain dropped off within the hour. Meanwhile, if it's okay with you, I'd like to get him scheduled for another MRI."

By the time Ari's medication was delivered, Hannah found him peacefully asleep in his room. The soft glow of the electronic panels on his bedroom wall re-created an artificial landscape of a tropical beach with shades of turquoise that cast a calming light around them. As she approached Ari, the gentle ebb and flow of soothing tides crescendoed with sound adding to the panoramic atmosphere. Hannah carefully adjusted his comforter, gazing at him with concern, wondering how much longer he would have to endure the torment of his migraines.

On a dreary Monday morning, Ari wearily shuffled into his first class, barely awake and only half engaged in a lecture that failed to capture his interest. As the hour ticked by, the lecture evolved into a dynamic classroom discussion. While Ari absentmindedly sketched on the digital surface of his desk, a few students at the front of the class eagerly raised their hands, their insightful contributions growing in depth. A hidden online chatroom buzzed with hushed messages that were exchanged between the classroom's disengaged students.

"Why do you think Joan of Arc was only able to earn the respect of the French Providence after she was successful in court, even though her visions for France were already verified as truth?" The teacher's question echoed through the classroom, prompting eager hands to shoot up at the front while others averted their eyes from the intimidating gaze of the teacher.

"What about you Ari?" His teacher asked as she tilted her head in his direction, gently pulling him into the conversation.

After erasing his impromptu drawing, he quickly glanced around the classroom. Heavy eyes focused on him as he rummaged through his textbook to find the correct page.

"I don't know," Ari whimpered softly, his attention barely on the teacher.

"Because she was a woman in 15th-century Europe?" chimed in another student, as Ari absentmindedly continued to sketch on the touchscreen in front of him.

Ari was a kind, soft-spoken kid. Inquisitive by nature, his profound thoughts were rarely shared with anyone but his mom and dad. At school, he was noticeably more timid, avoiding any conversation that put him on the spot. Before the accident, he was quite the opposite, but bouts of amnesia overshadowed his previous self. Those who knew him well enough surmised that the dramatic shift in his personality would fade with time.

After the school bell echoed through the crowded hallway, Ari weaved his way through the throng of students to locate his locker. He eagerly swapped out his English textbook for his music sheets, preparing for the only class he looked forward to. As he entered the classroom, a sinking feeling washed over him as he noticed it was already empty. A digital announcement spanned along the classroom board, informing anyone who entered that the teacher had canceled the class at the last minute.

He was alone in the room and he sat down in front of one of the pianos, seizing on a moment to play a muttled tune without any unwanted focus on him. He started to craft a distorted melody, fiddling the keys of the piano until the door swung open, causing him to shriek with fright when he realized it was Zoie Luther.

As she approached, Zoie asked Ari if she could sit next to him. Despite feeling nervous due to his crush being nearby, Ari made space for her, his heart pounding in his chest. Zoie's smile and captivating eyes immediately caught his attention, and he found himself unable to look away. She started playing the keys with humble confidence, her fingers moving gracefully over the piano, captivating Ari with her mystery. She gestured for him to join her by playing music of his own, a playful glint in her eyes, but he was too embarrassed to do so, feeling the weight of her gaze on him.

Determined to get him to play with her, Zoie took both of Ari's hands and placed them over the center of the piano's keys. She held her fingers over his, and she began pressing them onto the keys, delicately tapping them one by one, and with her help, beautiful music emanated from their collaboration while his eyes remained fixed onto Zoie, mesmerized by her.

When she left the room to head off toward her next class, Ari stared at the keys of the piano, wishing he could play as well as she did. Maybe she'd be impressed by the way he played if he practiced more. Maybe his parents would be proud if he learned to play better. While he yearned for the admiration that being a good musician would bring him, ever since the accident, he simply couldn't play as well as before. He tapped a few keys in front of him once more to see if he could make a decent-sounding medley, but he couldn't.

After weeks of anticipation, the day he had been dreading finally arrived. Normally, he eagerly counted down the tedious moments of his classes, yearning for the end of the day. However, on this particular day, he found himself hoping that time would slow to a crawl. The impending night brought with it a school concert, a daunting event where each student from his piano class would take turns performing a single piece of music in front of their peers and parents. The pressure of this upcoming event left him considering the possibility of not attending at all. Yet, he knew that failing to participate would result in failing the class, leading to inevitable disappointment from his father and facing the wrath of his mother.

"Mr. Emerson, it's your turn!" The woman's voice was so sharp and unexpected, that he almost jumped from his chair before being ushered between two enormous red velvet curtains.

He walked out onto the stage, each step feeling heavier, his heart pounding against his chest and his stomach sinking further. He pressed his lips together, a glimmering bead of sweat trickling down the side of his head as he inched closer to the piano.

Ari took a seat under a powerful spotlight that made him the centerpiece of the massive auditorium. He dared to catch a glimpse of the darkness that flooded the audience, looking for his mom's face to draw upon her reassuring presence to muster the courage needed to weather the unsettling moment. However, the darkness was impenetrable, and when he finally managed to catch a glimpse, the light nearly blinded him.

"Whenever you're ready," whispered the woman standing next to him, prepared to turn the pages of his music sheet as he played through the piece.

As he sat at the piano, he carefully studied the notes in front of him. However, his hands quivered with nerves, making it difficult to make sense of the musical notations. Despite his efforts, he struggled to locate the corresponding keys on the piano, feeling as though he had inexplicably lost his ability to read music altogether.

His fingers started to tremble slightly, his terror imperceptibe to the audience as they delicately hovered above the smooth, polished keys of the grand piano. The room gradually fell into complete silence, amplifying the sound of every breath and every movement. With a hesitant and gentle touch, Ari pressed down on a set of keys, anticipating the familiar resonant tones, but it was the wrong set. Panic surged through him and he froze rigidly, his eyes tightly shut, as he yearned to be anywhere but there.

Somehow, in the darkness of his closed eyelids, he could vividly recall the faces of the boys from school who had relentlessly taunted him. He remembered hitting the ground after one of them shoved him, pushing his head into the snow, and rubbing his face along sharp granules that felt like tiny pieces of glass. He remembered lifting himself out of the snow, staring down at a smear of his own blood before turning around to see them laughing wildly as streams of tears fell down his cheek. The memories of being pushed around by the same group of boys echoed in his mind, and his feelings of torment and helplessness bubbled into anger, except this was a different kind of anger.

Rage. It caused his eyes to fly open, and with a sudden and deliberate motion, his fingers descended onto the keys, producing a cascade of notes that reflected the turmoil within him. A fiery passion burned in his soul, and he channeled this intensity into the music, creating a melody of raw emotion. His fingers danced across the keys with such speed and precision that it was a challenge for the woman watching to keep pace with the song's progression. The music was undeniably exceptional, yet it failed to fully dispel the lingering anguish that continued to haunt him. However, in a pivotal moment, a transformation took place within him, igniting a new spark of inspiration.

That's when it happened.

His fingers suddenly quickened their pace, and with each note, he began playing the piano unlike anyone in the room had ever heard before. His music was rich, colorful, and exquisite, causing the woman to lose her place as she stepped away from Ari, shocked by what she was hearing. She stopped turning the pages for him, and to her dismay, he kept playing, causing her eyes to widen in disbelief.

The 12-year-old musician performed with a level of emotional depth and technical skill beyond his young age. Despite his naivety, he could sense a shift in the atmosphere as he finished playing, when the previously intimidating audience surrounding the stage erupted into thunderous applause.

The cacophonous and unfamiliar sound reverberated through the room, causing him to involuntarily flinch. Amidst the clamor, he discerned an obnoxious clapping noise, piercing through the chaos and assaulting his ears. As his vision cleared, he realized it was his father, radiating with an overwhelming sense of pride. Beside him, his mother gasped in amazement, her hands covering her mouth in astonishment at his unexpected performance. In the background, a crowd rose to their feet, erupting in boisterous applause as the lights slowly brightened, enveloping the scene in a warm glow.

As he tried to process the unexpected accolade he had just received, a sense of disbelief and pride washed over him. Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, he couldn't help but notice the subtle nuances in his mom's reaction. While her eyes sparkled with undeniable pride, there was a flicker of concern and unease. Her face conveyed contention as her hands were cupped over her mouth.

"Ari, how did you do that?" inquired the woman next to him, gracefully lowering herself to his eye level and placing a tender hand on his shoulder. The expression on her face mirrored that of his mother's, and in that moment, he sensed that something was amiss.

Later in the evening, as Jordan lay comfortably in bed engrossed in one of his favorite books, his wife retreated to their bathroom to carefully disassemble her elegant formal attire. As she went about her task, she couldn't help but excitedly discuss their son's remarkable performance, expressed with equal awe and concern to her husband.

"One minute he's barricaded into his bedroom playing those stupid video games all night, the next he's playing classical music like Bach. It doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe he finally found the time to practice honey?" Her husband retorted, offering half his usual attention span.

"I haven't seen him practice once! Have you? I'm telling you, something is different about him. I don't know what it is, but I'm going to find out."

As Hannah quietly speculated the various ways in which Ari might have achieved such an impressive feat, she couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities. Neither of them had any way of knowing that a profound shift was taking place in their son's mind, a change that, once uncovered, would have far-reaching implications and reshape the very fabric of their lives.