Chapter 3 - The Second Performer (Drew)
Submitted October 26, 2007 Updated May 11, 2008 Status Incomplete | Separately, four people are talented artists. But together they become miraculous. They revolutionize a country by merely existing.
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Chapter 3 - The Second Performer (Drew)
Chapter 3 - The Second Performer (Drew)
I come to Apocsh every 7 weeks. I don’t usually visit a village more than once or twice. But I have drummed on this artist platform five times. It is not because I like the village. I hate the squirming feeling I get down my spine when I enter its gates. Neither is it because my profit here is large. These merchants hardly pay the expected rate I could get at another town. Really, I have no reason to be here.
I recoil as one of tonight’s dancers sidles up against me. I twitch away from the smooth hips under her provocative costume, her feet tripping along to jangle her ankle bracelets, heavy black eyes that flutter and glance my way. This place disgusts me. I fling a nice glob of saliva into orbit. It lands mere centimeters from the girl’s manicured toes, foamy in the sand. The Jezebel clicks her tongue and spins away amidst red and yellow silks. I guess she only likes handsome men with manners, picky picky. No matter, she will find a willing youth after her show.
My eye sweeps the artist platform. It is the same as any other platform in a neighboring village. It is wide-- long enough for a strong man to make eight, long, running strides. Like many performance platforms, it is painted black. On each side there are two torches and the front is illuminated by thick candles. Each candle has three wicks; they line the stage, each touching the one next to it. Tonight, as the old violist plays, it seems as if he were an ancient god fiddling in the stars. His beard and hoary head give him an air of wisdom. His dark red robes, his straight noble back , and his blank eyes give the old man an appearance of a statue in the temple ruins to the West. Placed on the jet black platform with each candle sending flickers over his venerable face, this musician sends out his celestial music like a godly messenger striking the hearts of his audience with passionate arrows. I like this elderly fellow. He knows how to play. He knows how to create. He deserves to play longer.
But now it is my turn. I sling my three drums over my should and take one step onto the platform. The cymbals on my left ankle jangle sharply, and then die away into fairy-like tinkles. Like I have done six times before, I stop to stare into the crowd. I know that it makes them wary and uncomfortable, but I am looking for someone. My eyes flick back and forth and I clear my throat in discomfort. Sure, I look like a dimwit, but I can blame it on stage fright.
Finally, I catch sight of her. Suddenly embarrassed, I throw back my shoulders and stride to the center of the platform. I swing the drums down and set them carefully on the slick, black wood. I shuffle, scoot and arrange the trio--keeping rhythm and time as I do so.
Patter of fingers on the edge.
Tap. Ball and toe…the cymbals rattle for me.
Breeze before the storm.
I’m tempted to look up at the girl’s face one last time before I launch myself into the flood of beats and rhythms. Instead, I reach back and pull a leather strap that holds my plait at the nape of my neck. The hair falls free for drumming. People say I am cold; a hard, unfeeling, unemotional rock. “Prideful pup.” they scornfully sniff. Ha, but they have never seen me drum. With a slight smile on my face, I begin the thunder.
Rolling clouds jump under my palms.
My left foot scatters the lightning clashes.
I feel the strain down my back as every muscle in my body sends my fists flying.
I love this whirlwind. Somewhere between the downpour and the last echoing thunderclap, I look up to find her face. Indigo eyes under strawberry blond curls.
My hair sticks to my temples and drops of inspiration drip down my back. I grin. I love this firestorm.
I adore that little woman.
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musicismylife on November 28, 2007, 9:03:38 AM
serously i imagine ur a muscisian right?! i am too and i know exactly how each of these ppl feel! perfect description!!!!!!thelump on November 29, 2007, 6:05:19 AM
thelump on
Righto! Alot of the emotions in here are either of my own experience or from friends.