Palouse

Palouse 29

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Chapter 29

Coffee Again  – September 1994

A Month Later

          It was the following Saturday. David walked by Micah, who was surrounded by a group of sidewalk onlookers, on his way from his apartment; he dropped a $20 bill in the hat. Micah shook his head `no' as he continued to play, but David tilted an imaginary cup to his lips and pointed across the street to Merchant's Cafe, indicating that Micah was going to have to buy him coffee. David swept his arm around to recognize all the people there then mouthed the word: "Tomorrow." 

          "Why are you doing this?" Micah asked as he was scurrying to catch up with David the next morning. Micah hadn't had time to pack up his violin as David paused and went past, so he held it and his bow in his left hand as his right hand grabbed his case, the backpack and the cap that still contained only his own change.

          "You know, the early bird doesn't catch the worm if the worm doesn't arrive till much later. How long have you been playing?

          "About 20 minutes."

          "And how many people have gone past at 8 in the morning?"

          Micah looked chagrined. "Not many."

          "Come and buy me breakfast."

          "But why are you doing this?"

          "I have this affection for starving musicians."

          "I'm not a musician anymore."

          "Ah, but you are. You'll always be the greatest violinist that Eastern Washington ever produced – or, at least, Endicott, Washington." That drew a grin out of Micah. "You'll always be the only great violinist that I had the opportunity to know. That's worth a coffee and pastry from my inheritance money. That and the joy of getting to know you again."

          They took the same table at Merchant's that they had taken the day before after putting in their orders, mercifully, David thought, to a different barista. David brushed the hair away from Micah's face and smiled at Micah.

          Micah looked uncomfortable. "I'm not a musician anymore. I'm done with that part of my life."

          "So why are you on the street playing a violin and not washing dishes back there?" David asked, pointing to the kitchen.

          "I don't know. It's what I know how to do, I guess."

          "You don't know how to wash dishes?"

          "Well, I guess I do. I suppose I could do that at the dining hall. I guess I kinda like the music, especially if I don't have to perform – on a stage, with an orchestra."

          "Because there's no pressure," David said.

          "No pressure."

          "Was it the pressure? Was the pressure the reason you dropped out?"

          "Not really. The pressure never got to me. In fact, I enjoyed being pushed."

          "Then why? Why did you quit?"

          "Why? I was missing too much. I wanted to be a teenager; I wanted to play basketball with my brother and have a girlfriend and make out with a girlfriend and go out and have a few beers with my friends. I didn't have the energy for music after that, so I dropped out."

          "From one extreme to the other."

          "I know. I probably went too far, but I had probably gone too far the other way before."

          "So where are you now, Micah?"

          "Existing."

          "Is that what you want?"

          "Sure." But the tone of Micah's answer belied the certainty of his words. "Enough of me. Tell me about you and your music."

          "I'm not in your league, Micah. I play the cello, but I'm never going anywhere with it except to the Whitman College and the Music Department's string quartet. So, I'm studying something that I can make a living at. I wish I had your talent. I wish I could be a Yo Yo Ma, but I realize I'm not even close. I'm getting an education to make myself employable. How's that for idealism? How's that for being a romantic?"

          What started as a $20 bill in a busker's hat on the sidewalk turned into an agreement to meet each morning for coffee, juice and pastry when class schedules allowed – one day David buying, the next Micah, from his hat earnings to which David surreptitiously contributed – in small bills and change when Micah was otherwise occupied. The conversations moved from music to school to philosophy to religion to Forrest Gump, as Micah and David began to become reacquainted, this time as adults rather than children – renewing their friendship after many years of separation. It was weeks later, when the barren trees allowed the sun to warm Micah's chosen playing spot, that the conversation became personal, as Micah explained what had happened from the last time they had played together till their chance meeting on the sidewalks of Walla Walla.

          They had never really talked at the same serious level when they were younger and playing in the youth orchestra. They had exchanged pleasantries,  video-game banter and shoulder bumps, but there was always a teenage lack of seriousness that kept a distance between them. David had wanted to bridge that distance, wanted a closer relationship with Micah when they were younger.  But then Micah's stardom had blossomed, making David shyer around him, and Micah's occasional flares of egotism had appeared. David always felt such display were somehow at odds with Micah's true self.  He thought the real Micah was the unpretentious boy he enjoyed playing video games with.  But, the displays happened, and they made it even more difficult for David to try to get closer to Micah.

          Now, things somehow had changed. For David, his childhood had been "normal." His parents were professionals making good incomes, so David felt that he could have any material thing within reason that he wanted – a car when he turned 16, quality music lessons, vacations in exotic locales. David had done well in school all along and was accepted easily into Whitman College, choosing that over the larger University of Washington; it didn't hurt that his father was an influential alumnus. He chose Whitman because he wanted a smaller college where he could have more interaction with his professors.

          David said nothing to Micah about his coming out to his parents at age 14 and their full acceptance of his sexuality. He knew that Micah knew that he was gay, but he didn't want to dwell upon his sexuality for fear that highlighting it might turn Micah off – and he realized that he didn't want that to happen. Too, Micah was going to an Adventist college which had strict views against homosexuality.  It seemed possible that, as Micah had enrolled at this school, he shared those views.

          Micah slowly revealed his life to David – in bits and random pieces . Micah had never laid his life out to anyone before, but David was a good listener, and Micah wanted badly to have someone to talk to – someone who might understand where he was and what kind of person he was – a screwed-up young man, maybe, but content, or so he had said to David with a forced smile.

          David asked a question that had been in the back of his mind since he had learned that Micah attended Walla Walla College. "Micah, why are you at Walla Walla College instead of somewhere else? Aren't the Seventh Day Adventists pretty strict about religious matters."

          "I didn't really think about it. My folks agreed to help pay and some of the kids in our church had gone there – it's our church – so I just sort of followed along."

          "Is it very strict – in religion?"

          "Yes and no. They're a lot of kids who are really devout, and then there are a lot who just want an education and aren't really as religious."

          David didn't really want to ask the question, but he needed to know: "Which one are you?"

          Micah looked at David somewhat curiously. "The latter. Why do you ask?"

          "I just wanted to know." David didn't reveal how relieved he was. He could accept most people's beliefs, but he had trouble with being close with fundamentalists who were often intolerant – of pleasure and particularly of gays. He had been fearful that Micah might have chosen to follow the tenets of the Seventh Day Adventists strictly, with a mind closed to those that didn't follow the faith. Probably, there were gay Adventists who had formed their own self-defense organizations as part of their churches or colleges, but David certainly didn't know if Walla Walla College had a student organization like that; he would check on the internet.

          "Do you want to come over to my place and play some music? Just for fun – no pressure." David asked. David's roommate, Dustin, would be at the library studying.

          Micah was silent for at least a minute. "I think I'd like that."

          David didn't realize until later how important his invitation to play was. It was as if he was rescuing a drowning man who had fallen – or maybe jumped – off a river bank but was content to let the current push and pull him downstream, hoping for an outcome bland as water. It wasn't an outcome that David was beginning to realize he wanted for Micah. That afternoon he decided on a mission to bring Micah back to serious music. Bringing such a talent back to the world would be his gift to the world.

          So on a Sunday in November, David picked up Micah at his dormitory. Micah was carrying his violin and bow cases. As the wind twisted the last of the autumn leaves off the trees outside David's apartment, they began to play a violin/cello duet – some Boccherini to start. The afternoon began with fumbling attempts to learn the music. But with each repetition they put more feeling and skill into it. With the third or fourth try, late in the day, their play created a reasonably accomplished duet performance.

          Micah felt the sweetness of the challenge. Working with another on a peer basis was new to him. He was initially reluctant to take up the violin again seriously – playing on the street wasn't really serious – but that attitude softened with the easy communality that grew with David and his cello, because it wasn't he alone who was the focus of the music – no pressure, in other words. Both of them glanced up from time to time from the music on the stands to look at each other and smile. The November sky outside turned from dim afternoon daylight to soft early dusk, but the playing of the music was a fire that the two young men could use for warmth. It was the first time that Micah felt that kind of warmth in his music in years.

          The clock moved towards six. "Hey, I've got to go. I've got a test tomorrow," Micah announced, reaching for his jacket.

          "What about some pizza before you go? I've got a freezer full, and it could be ready in 15 minutes. You've got to eat somewhere, right?"

          Micah stopped putting on his jacket, took it off and set it across the arm of the couch. "Sure, that would be fine."

          David turned on the oven in the kitchenette and looked in the freezer. "I have pepperoni and I have veggie – and we could have one of each and split them. What's your pleasure?"

          "Let's split them."

          David popped two pizzas into the oven on cookie sheets, opened the refrigerator and took out the makings for a salad as well as two beers. "Want one?" he asked as he tilted the beer label toward Micah.

          "I'd better not; I've got to study. Besides, it might break down my inhibitions without me knowing about it."

          David laughed, wondering just what Micah meant, and turned to washing some lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers, peeling and cutting them up and putting them in a bowl. He took a jar of salad dressing from the refrigerator. He put place mats and two plates and silverware on the small table next to the kitchenette; the table served both as his desk and a place to eat. After finishing with the salad, he opened a beer and took out two glasses, pouring a small amount into one before putting it next to Micah's place at the table. "A small amount won't hurt you any more than the pizza will in putting you to sleep, and it will help the pizza go down." David also put two glasses of ice water next to the plates.

          The timer bell dinged on the stove, and David pulled the pizzas out from the oven, placing them on a platter on the counter next to the table. After slicing them in sixths, he pulled a plate and salad bowl from the table and handed them to Micah. "Help yourself."

          Micah took a couple of slices of each pizza, piled some salad in the bowl, topped it with bleu-cheese dressing and sat down at the table. David was right behind him. They ate in silence for a few minutes, taking swallows of beer between bites.

          "Why are you doing this?" Micah asked.

          "Doing what?"

          "Making friends with me, getting me to play music, feeding me."

          "I've always liked you. Always. Starting in that airport when we were nine.  I wanted to know about you, about your life and what brought you here, and when you finally told me about that, it just made me feel closer to you.  We're friends, Micah, and I like you. "

          Micah tilted his head back and eyed David closely. He knew there was something missing from the answer, but the missing part eluded him. Though he knew that David was gay, David was putting no moves on him. So the explanation, he felt, was something else. The problem was that Micah had been beginning to feel content with his life until David came along. Now, he felt uneasy, as if a strange comet had crossed his familiar night sky, upsetting the order of the heavens he had established for himself.

          "Besides, you have bright eyes – and a sleek pony tail." David said, trying to break Micah's pensive mood. Micah's cheeks burned red, and he took a drink of water as a diversion before taking a large bite of pizza. "More beer?" David asked.

          Micah shook his head, unable to answer until he finished swallowing the pizza, his Adam's apple rising and falling as the food went down. "I really do have to study. Maybe another time."

          They finished their dinner, took the dishes to the sink, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. David wrapped the leftover pizza in foil and put it in the refrigerator as Micah gathered his things and found his coat.

          "I enjoyed this," Micah said. "Thank you." 

          "I did, too. Let's do it again. I'll get some Locatelli from the music library."

          David grabbed his keys and led Micah downstairs and out of the apartment to his car. They rode in contented silence downtown to where Micah had parked his pickup. "Good night, and good luck on the test. Hope I didn't get you too soused."

          "I had a third of a glass of beer. That's not enough to even feel after all that pizza and salad. If I do poorly on the test, it's not because of this afternoon. Besides, I know this stuff pretty well already. But I want an A, so I've got several hours of books and notes to study."

Thanks for reading. If you have any comments or questions, just send them to vwl1999 at keptprivate.com

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