Flipping the Coin
CHAPTER 10
THE JOURNEY
School moved on towards its inevitable conclusion. Soon it was time for final exams. Roshan had been invited to play a concerto with the Youth Symphony Orchestra. As a result, he spent nearly all his spare time practicing. I tried to convince him that he needed to take some time off, that he was getting too consumed with the concerto, but all he said was, “I can’t.” And that was the end of the discussion. Perhaps worst of all, he stopped coming to my bed at night. By the day of his performance, I was thoroughly sick of the music, although I did enjoy it when Mom occasionally played a transcription of the orchestra part with on the piano.
Meanwhile, Carl was about to graduate from the university. He had decided to go on and get an MBA and then go into business. Once again, Father agreed to finance what Carl couldn’t pay for with a summer job and a part-time winter one.
I, on the other hand, spent my spare time collecting and mounting insects. I knew I couldn’t take the collection to the university with me, so I carefully photographed the whole thing and had prints made because I wanted to be able to show my professors what I had done.
Carl’s graduation was on a Sunday and we all drove up to Amherst to witness it, although Roshan fretted the whole way that he should be practicing. I was amazed at how many graduates there were. The graduation was held in the football stadium and fortunately the weather was fine—sunny with a few puffy clouds and comfortable temperatures. We sat through the speeches and then it was time for the graduates to receive their diplomas. I wondered how they would ever get through all the graduates, but I soon learned what the process was. First, all those receiving their bachelors’ degrees were asked to stand. Then, after a couple of questions were asked and answered in chorus, they were pronounced graduated, and were told that their diplomas would be available under the stadium after the ceremony. The same process was used for the recipients of masters’ degrees. So it was only those receiving doctoral degrees who actually received their diplomas on the field and had their names read out.
When the ceremony ended, we waited for Carl to pick up his diploma and turn in his robe. When he was finally free, we went out to eat at the Inn in Deerfield. We had a wonderful, happy dinner. Well, everybody was happy except Roshan, who spent the whole time worrying that he wasn’t practicing.
The next family activity, on the following Saturday, was the Youth Symphony Orchestra concert and Roshan’s concerto—the Boccherini Cello Concerto in B Flat Major. He left before us that evening, saying that he wanted to get there early. He was dressed in a brand-new black suit which set off his coloring and his hair beautifully.
We followed along about an hour later. We had seats in the front row center of the balcony, from which we had a perfect view of the stage. Soon the string members of the orchestra came on stage, fiddled around a bit (no pun intended), and then tuned. Since Roshan was the first chair cellist, we could see him perfectly.
At 8 o’clock on the dot, the conductor came out and had the orchestra stand briefly as the audience applauded. The first piece on the program was Barber’s Adagio for Strings. I had never heard the piece before, but Roshan had told me I would like it. I certainly did. It was so beautiful I nearly fell out of the balcony leaning forward to catch every note.
When that was over, Roshan quietly left the stage as stagehands came on to make a few changes before his concerto. When they departed, two French horn players appeared and took their seats behind the string players. Then, Roshan and the conductor returned to the stage as the audience again applauded. They both bowed to the audience and took their places, Roshan in a chair diagonally facing the audience and the conductor on the podium. Roshan tuned his cello to the oboe’s A. When everybody was settled, the conductor raised his baton, the musicians raised their instruments, and the music began.
Not being a musician, I can’t really comment on the performance of the orchestra, but I can say that Roshan’s performance was the best, most sensitive I had ever heard him play. As the final notes died away, the audience stood and roared their approval, clapping and clapping. Roshan, smiling, bowed and bowed and bowed again. The conductor bowed and had the orchestra stand. Then Roshan and the conductor bowed together before leaving the stage. The applause continued, so Roshan returned for a solo bow, which he took before turning to the orchestra members and motioning for them to stand while he applauded them. He left and the orchestra members sat as the applause continued. Finally, Roshan and the conductor came out holding hands and bowing to the audience. When they left and it became obvious they weren’t returning, the orchestra members stood and filed out for intermission.
During the intermission, the stagehands brought out many more chairs and music stands and put the percussion instruments in place. Eventually, as the intermission drew to an end, the musicians returned to the stage, this time supplemented by the woodwind and brass players and percussionists.
The final piece on the program was Saint Sean’s Carnival of the Animals. Clearly, it was a piece all the performers enjoyed. At one point, in the section called, “The Swan,” Roshan had a duet with the harpist, which they played beautifully.
It had been agreed that Roshan and I would drive home together because Mom and Dad were a little concerned that Roshan might be too geared-up after the concert to drive safely. So at the end of the concert, I went backstage.
I found him receiving congratulations from adults and orchestra members alike. He smiled at me as he received the plaudits. He was soaking wet with perspiration. Finally, he put his cello in its case, and we left the building.
On the way home, I told him I thought it was the best I had ever heard him play. He said, “That’s because of the orchestra. It was an amazing feeling to be playing with them, sharing with them, and tossing themes back and forth with them. I’m totally hooked on playing with other musicians.”
At home, Mom had prepared a snack for us. Before he ate, Roshan went up and took a shower. When he came down, we could talk of nothing but the performance.
When we went upstairs to bed, Roshan was still too geared-up to sleep, so we talked of other things. Then we climbed into his bed, and I did all I could to pleasure him until he finally calmed down and dozed off.
Our own graduation was three days later. I suppose after Carl’s graduation and the concert, our graduation was rather anticlimactic. But we all paraded in, listened to a boring speech and received our diplomas.
Roshan and I were excitedly anticipating our upcoming trip, and, as the date approached, our excitement and enthusiasm grew. In preparation for our trip, Roshan and I had had to apply for passports; they arrived the day before graduation. So, all the paperwork was taken care of and we packed, ready to depart. The day we left, I took Orion down the street to stay with a neighbor. Orion was very popular in the neighborhood, so finding a dog sitter had been no problem.
Mom and Dad had planned the whole trip without asking us for any input. When we left for the airport in Boston, neither Roshan nor I had any idea of what the flight would be like or what was going to happen when we landed. The only thing that our parents had told us was that, while they were researching traveling times, Dad had found a site that said that the driving time from Boston to Barcelona was 22 hours! We all had a good chuckle over that. Fortunately, of course, we went by plane. It didn’t take 22 hours, but it did take almost 10, and by the time we landed, all four of us were very happy to leave the plane.
When we landed in Barcelona, we went through passport security and customs and then headed to our hotel by taxi. For the next few days we explored Barcelona, including the Gothic quarter and the 1992 Olympic Stadium. The city was large and it was very hot. We soon adopted the Spanish custom of the siesta. In the evenings, because we were rested, we stayed up well after our usual bedtimes and took long walks through the city.
Dad then rented a car and we drove along the Mediterranean coast to Valencia. Valencia was another big, crowded, hot city. During our time there, we visited the Alhambra, the old town, with its very narrow streets, and the ancient Silk Market with its beautiful tiles. Roshan and I climbed the Cathedral tower, over 200 steps, and got a great view from the top. Mom and Dad decided to pass on that little excursion.
We continued to go to bed late every night. By this time, Roshan had finally relaxed some, and occasionally he joined me in bed, though not as often as I would have liked. He said he still loved me, but he just couldn’t have sex every night.
Next, we drove along the coast again for a bit before heading north to the Sierra Nevada’s and a small town called Capileira. It was one of the “white villages” which were quite common in the mountain ranges. The scenery was breathtaking. The village was perched on the side of a mountain with views of the Sierra Nevada’s not far away. We explored the villages in the area for several days, enjoying the lack of crowds and the cooler temperatures.
A few days later, we drove to another big, crowded, hot city—Granada. Its main attraction for us was the Alhambra with its elements of Moorish as well as Christian culture. We explored the old part of the city with its winding streets, almost too narrow for a small car and filled with pedestrians.
Although we enjoyed our visit, none of us was unhappy to leave the teeming, sweltering city and drive south again to the coast and to a small town on the coast called Nerja, where we spent days enjoying the beaches. Roshan and I loved the swimming and snorkeling and basking in the sun.
One day, we took a day trip to Gibraltar. We rode a cable car to the top of the rock from which we could make out North Africa. While we were in Gibraltar, we made the acquaintance of the Barbary monkeys, who were very friendly and not above begging. One even climbed on my head and sat there laughing. Roshan laughed so hard he had trouble holding the camera steady enough to take pictures. We returned to Nerja for the night and one more day of swimming before we drove inland a bit to Ronda, which is perched on high cliffs with a narrow gorge below. It was another town to walk in and explore without fighting huge crowds. Some said that the village was the oldest in Spain.
Reluctantly leaving Ronda, we drove to our final destination, Seville. It too was a large city and very hot while we were there. We visited the Alcazar Palace complex as well as the Cathedral, which was huge. By then we had had more than enough walking and were ready to head home. During the flight to Boston, Roshan became fidgety again, jiggling his leg up and down for hours. At one point he said, “Do you realize I haven’t practiced for three weeks?”
“Yes,” I said, “and it’s been good for you. You needed to relax some. All that time leading up to the concerto concert you were so intense you hardly took time to eat.”
“But I so enjoy the practicing,” he said.
“Sure, and I’m glad you do, but you don’t want to burn yourself out.”
Back home, we quickly settled into our routines. Roshan began practicing immediately while I went down the street to fetch Orion. We were delighted to see each other. He bounced up and down while I sat on the porch and hugged him.
Both Roshan and I needed new clothes for school. Other than shopping for those, Roshan practiced and I studied bugs. Once in a while, I convinced him to go to the park with me and just sit around chatting. We also went out to supper a few times, knowing that our times for doing that were limited. Occasionally, he came into my bed.
Soon, it was time for us to pack. Neither of us was going to take a car. Roshan couldn’t pay for parking in New York City and, since I’d be living on campus, I’d have no use for a car. We drove to Boston to put Roshan onto his plane. Before he got on, we hugged him and agreed to write.
The next day, as I prepared to leave for Amherst, Orion sat in the hall looking very woebegone (which is pretty easy for a Basset Hound to accomplish). Mom and Dad had promised me they would take good care of him. The three of us drove to Amherst, where I got settled into my dormitory and met my new roommate, Keith Harding. When Mom and Dad were ready to leave, I hugged them both. There were tears in my eyes. I knew I would miss them terribly.
Keith played the trumpet and was in the marching band. Oh no! I thought. Not another musician. I soon learned, however, that he was not nearly as driven as Roshan had become. I was rather amused, because, to be in the marching band, he had to memorize new marching routines every week, so he practiced walking out the steps and the turns for the formations in our room. He was a nice guy, and we got along fine, but I soon realized how much I missed Roshan.
I was quickly immersed in classes, including the inevitable Freshman English, an advanced trig class, an advanced Spanish class, and a biology class. These all required a lot of studying and I was very busy. Roshan and I wrote back and forth. He sounded even busier than I was, but he seemed happy and he told me he was now in a freshman string quartet.
One day, after biology class, I showed the pictures of my collection to the TA. He took them reluctantly at first, but then he began to look at them more closely, saying, “This is extraordinary!” When he finished, he asked if he could keep the pictures to show to Professor Waverly, the head of the department. I was thrilled.
A few days later, I received a message from Doctor Waverly, asking to see me. My heart was pounding as I went to his office at the time he had set. He welcomed me into his office. “I was amazed by your collection,” he said. “How long have you been working on it?” When I told him I had begun when I was five years old, he slowly shook his head, saying, “Remarkable.” We talked for some time about my work and he made a few suggestions. As I was leaving his office, we shook hands and he said, “Soon you’ll be teaching here, I’m certain.” I was so elated I called Mom right away to tell her. She congratulated me and we chatted for a few minutes before I called Roshan, who said, “See? I told you that you were smart. That’s proof.”
I went to the University’s football games more to watch Keith and the marching band than for the games. The only football games I had been to were Carl’s in high school. At first it took me some time to figure out the college game, which seemed much more complicated. Oh, I could appreciate long runs and good pass plays, but the intricacies of formations, both offensive and defensive, and of penalties were at first beyond me.
Of course, none of us in the dorm worked all the time. We were all getting used to a totally new level of freedom. I got to know most of the guys on my corridor. Oliver, Bert, and I played endless games of Crazy Eights. Patrick and I played chess, backgammon, and cribbage, games which Dad had taught me. We were pretty well matched.
Sometimes, Patrick studied with me. He couldn’t stand his roommate, Bill, who he said was loud, arrogant, and a party boy who smuggled booze into the dorm. Patrick had thought about reporting him but was reluctant, because if he did that, all the other guys in the dorm would know he had.
Fall was beautiful in Amherst and I went for long walks, enjoying the colorful foliage. Other boys from the dorm, including Patrick, sometimes joined me.
In time, the weather grew colder and winter approached. I enjoyed shopping for Christmas presents, because it made me think fondly of my family. Remarkably soon, it was time for Christmas vacation. Dad drove to pick me up and we headed for home.
As soon as I walked in the door, Orion was all over me. I knelt down and he licked my face over and over before he rolled over so I could rub his tummy. As soon as I stood again, Mom hugged me and told me how much she had missed me.
Roshan arrived the next day, complete with his cello. He had bought a plane ticket for it, so it sat next to him on the flight. We hugged and drove home. As usual for us, Christmas was low-keyed. It was much more about being together than it was about presents. From time to time, Roshan and I hugged, but we only went farther once.
By this time in his life, Orion had become used to snow and actually seemed to enjoy it. I loved watching him dive headfirst into snowbanks and emerge out the other side with snow all over him, especially on his nose. He would run through the snow dolphining as he went and then come bounding back towards me, thoroughly happy.
All too soon, it was time for us to head back to our schools. I was sad to see Roshan go, and I wondered for weeks what had happened to change him. He’d seemed distant and reserved, nothing like the boy I’d grown to love.