CHAPTER 5

The Viola Player

"AUGUST, YOU BROUGHT ADAM WITH YOU!"

It was a voice that belonged to Carl when he cried from the manor during the plain billows of rain in the misty wind. Adam and August immediately ran from the gate while Carl was standing between the strong femur pillars, clapping in mirth. The steps were slippery, rocky, prone to harm, and the young men could slip at any moment since their shoes were wet and their coats were soaked.

"I can't believe it, you are here." Carl brightened hence his tone had a lift in his voice and the flesh of his pudgy cheeks climbed into full rounded balls.

"Spare the sentiments later and let us come inside or we will die from cold," August commanded in one breath.

"Hah! To be fair, Reimund is waiting for you, August," Carl said.

When they stepped inside, a faint murmur of words escaped from Adam's mouth. The architecture and even the marbled staircases fascinated him completely. Since then, he could not get his eyes off the ceiling where the crystal chandelier glowed in the hall.

"Why, if it isn't August Lindeberg!" Reimund broke in as he reached his arm out and shook both of their hands in a military fashion. He ushered the visitors to the parlour.

"Adam, this is Reimund," August began and his stolid mouth was crafted in a flat line while they walked together in the hall.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, I've heard about you, Adam. You are the eldest son of the Lindeberg family If I'm not mistaken?"

"I am, indeed. August must have informed you about me." Adam darted his eyes at his little brother with a curious glance.

"Of course, of course, even Carl did. These youngsters mentioned to me about you and your family. Which reminds me you live in a cozy area. I'm sure you'll find this city odd and wild for someone who hasn't been here before?"

"It's been fine so far. Even if the weather isn't too promising at a time like this." Adam chuckled and had come to a halt once Reimund gestured to them in the octagonal room where there was a settee for the gentlemen to sit.

"Yes, certainly. The weather can be a nuisance. You see, My sister and I have been living in this city for years and we used to stroll around in Ringstrasse all the time," He dropped himself in the armchair as he fell back with a smile. "The rain would always spoil our day, but it never drains our mood. I remember I was a substitute back then."

"How long was it?"

Reimund pulled back his sleeve from the opposite direction of his guests and blew a whistle. "I was nineteen. Hooh, eight years ago. As a lieutenant now, I'd never expected they'd make a soldier out of me, but here I am serving the army."

"Huh? Same as August here. He is nineteen now."

"Really? So, you're planning to join the military, August?"

"Not in my lifetime. It would be a pain for me if I become a soldier just to serve our ridiculous monarchy."

Everyone paused after they heard the bold reply.

"The Habsburgs would not be pleased if they hear this, brother o'mine." Adam reluctantly broke the silence with a troubled air.

"To Hell to them."

It was not until the following minute when the men decided it was best to move onto another topic, for they knew this had become a sensitive subject for anyone who possessed a modern mind.

"Frau Elia is on a trip this week. The twins have finally gotten their freedom."

"Little rascals they are." Carl laughed and shifted his gaze toward the window. "It looks like the rain stopped?"

It did, and they were pleased the moment when the rain ceased from their view. The clouds moulded in hues of lavender with a clump of bright ochred-rose over the rainbow. At once, the cluster of birds waltzed through mid-air, chirping to summon attention from the other species below.

"May I get a bit of fresh air outside? I do find it refreshing." August interrupted.

Much to his surprise, Reimund permitted him to and proceeded with his conversation with Adam and Carl.

Outside at the pavilion, he heard the sound of a viola in the background with just the right tune for nature to hear. He wasn't so sure about the piece, but he could listen to the soft rhythm in the garden, floating nearby his area.

As soon as he followed the music and found the lithe figure that stood among the clipped bushes, it was Susie Jansten who played wonderfully with her viola under her chin. His heart was knocked in a myriad of ways and he felt a tantrum of words just shaking far beyond his imagination, which could not be described in his own tongue.

There she was dressed in a pretty frock with her satin sash that hung above her slender waist which fitted her womanly form. Her beauty had enthralled him and his giddiness took over his spiritless soul, lingering in the spot by looking at her as she played with a bow. Her hair was swept back in an old-fashioned bun, wearing the gretel fashion style. A similar style her mother had worn during his first visit to the manor. He stared at her with all his lust, not lowering his gaze for a long time until she paused and raised her head with thick lashes fluttering in wonder.

Both of their eyes froze in a beat.

Unexpectedly, she was not in the least disturbed when he interrupted her privacy. There was a certain flicker of relief in her face which astonished August a bit.

"Oh! You're August am I right?" She breathed smilingly with a few streaks of hair hanging loosely over her peachy-pink forehead. "Yesterday Reimund had informed me about hiring you."

"Indeed he did, I am afraid."

"I remember, of course," She went on with her pretty smile firmly clipped like the bushes around her and added eagerly, "When shall we start?"

"Weekend would do."

"You don't sound too excited. He offered you so sudden did he?"

"No, no. I'm honoured and I appreciate it. Never had this kind of opportunity before."

"Then you are a lucky fellow it seems, and I'm truly happy for anyone who has that sort of liberty," She wore an expression that belied her words.

"I would consider myself a lucky fellow if no one is my authority." He cast a slight grin.

"Free and independent? I thought you were. I take it that you can do everything you want for a young man at your age?"

"Not really," He answered with a momentary sigh, rubbing the nape of his neck. "At least in my case."

"Well, forgive me for assuming then."

"No, it's understandable. There is nothing to apologize for. I'm actually pleased that you thought I was, and not the pauper or the lower class individual that you pictured me when I came into your family's privileged life."

"I never said such things nor thought of it even a whit. You are no different to me, but I still want to get to know you more. Did my behaviour cause anything to offend you last night?"

"No, you didn't. Don't worry, I was being slightly facetious," He chuckled and added almost in a whisper, "Though if I may be blunt, your mama did make me feel as if I was not welcomed when I stepped into this place."

"Oh, I see! I apologize on her behalf. She can be a little cold and distant to everyone. Not just to you. Once you get to know her, she won't be so bad. I promise." She nodded with an air of certainty. "What are you carrying, by the way?"

"This?" He looked down and held his head up again. "I brought my little sketchbook with me. You see, I was planning to draw you here under the willow tree this evening," August licked his lower lip with feverish hunger after he spoke. "This is the perfect time for you to pose, right now. Does it suit you?"

"Ah! Yes, it suits me very much now that you suggested it!" She piped up in a thrill as if her girlish self had risen again. "But let me put my viola first."

She went off, leaving August alone in the garden. He bit his lip when she had gone off to the patio door, and fancied her when he caught the skirt lifting slightly from her smooth hands.

After several minutes of waiting outside, Susie found August on the large rock in the garden as she returned, looking ponderous like the very picture of a philosopher in the museum. She eyed him over her shoulder and took a glance at his sketch. It was a pain to see the sudden display before her, for it seemed daunting in her eyes once she saw a sketch of a bird being abused by an unknown figure.

"Poor little thing, who would do such a cruel act?" She queried in a low tone.

"Not that I know of." Without a bat of his eyelash, he turned to a blank page and gestured her toward the willow tree. "Now that you are here, let's start."

With that being said she stood under the tree, with her arm upon her hip bone, holding her chin high with lips as crimson as her sash. Silence held between them and the youth began to sketch while she posed.

"Tell me about yourself, August."

He shrugged.

"Nothing really interesting about myself apart from planning to become a professional painter."

"Hm, not about what you want to be. Tell me something interesting about you or if not, then I must find that out."

"How about this—why not tell me about you."

"Dodging my question isn't going to easily escape my attention," She retorted.

"Not bad," August muttered under his breath, and by now it was obvious she was not a woman that could be simply fooled.

"A new guest came. Adam Lindeberg? Is he your brother?"

"Yes, he is. I forgot to introduce him to you."

"That's fine. We just did a few minutes ago. Reimund and your brother have a lot in common, I must say."

"Good to hear."

"A question I'd like to ask you, August. I hope you don't mind."

"Fire away, then."

"What bothers you? You don't seem like the kind who gets easily bothered or perturbed."

"I do. You haven't seen my bad side yet. I despise anything ugly internally or externally," He proceeded with his eyes moving down and up while sketching. "It bothers me, somehow. Inanimate or animate, it does not matter. I loathe anything hideous as most people do."

"So, if someone is unattractive in your eyes, you will hate that person?"

"Yes, although it depends who that person is."

"You do not care about personalities at all? It doesn't matter to you as long as it pleases your visual lense?"

"It does. If it outshines the external form, then I don't mind." He answered and went on. "Same as when an inanimate object looks pretty, I will marvel the beauty of its existence. But if it has no benefit for me, then I might grow in boredom."

"You care about looks more?"

"I do, but I'm not shallow-minded. I have my reasons why I prefer looks. I know once I see something attractive or even beautiful in my eyes, it's hard for me to care about anything anymore."

"Really? How strange men are! So if you are attracted to a girl you desire to be with, you would do everything for her cause? You let a certain girl manipulate your body, mind and soul only because you are bewitched by her physical features?"

"I have control. Trickery will never be the cause of my failure as I am used to those practices and I know when to stop hating as much as loving."

"No one is a master of their feelings."

"With practice, any human being can overcome these frivolous emotions. Besides, these emotions will eventually fade like dust and in time, the more you fall in love with a certain someone or something, the more you can easily move on. It's as if you are in an art gallery, let's say, and you see a painting that catches your attention and you pause to admire it until you move onto another one."

"I see then. So you don't see the distinction between living beings and non-living beings?"

"Sometimes, because I guess both are naturally similar in a way."

"You said you loathe ugliness and it bothers you. Anything morbid or ugly you will dismiss it?" There was a momentary look of interest as she persistently questioned him further.

"Correct—although, sometimes I do find macabre paintings captivating. I see it in a different lense other than black and white."

"So, there are exceptions for you?"

"Of course. Another common fallacy people fall into is that one's high status with a strong opinion doesn't necessarily mean it is true." He retorted.

"I don't know how that's related to what we were talking about, but I am aware of it." She frowned at his patronizing tone despite their age differences. He was a lot younger than she was, yet the youth acted a lot knowledgeable than her. "Since you said you wanted to become a great artist, are you planning to be the new revolutionary painter in the future?"

"No, I'm not planning to be a great artist. Considering myself as one would mean that I am altering the history of art."

A pause followed until the inquisitive woman was eager to learn about the youth who seemed to take life from a different perspective. Whatever it was, she was piqued with curiosity the moment she met this young man. "Are you old-fashioned? An anachronistic fellow?"

"Neither. Perhaps for the old generation, I consider myself as a modern thinker." He was fixed at the sketch, and once in a while, he would dart a glance at her womanly shape, shading the blank piece of paper.

For him, this woman whom he was acquainted with, was a different kind of female animal. Initially, it was her vivacity and beauty that drew his attention, gazing at her full form in detail from her amber eyes to her mouth, cheeks, arms and fingers. 

For her, he was intriguing and magnetic who looked barely past twenty. Young as ever, yet here, he lacked the spirit of a young man at his age. 

Nevertheless, his enigmatic and impassiveness had induced her attraction and by the merest things he said or didn't, she wanted to study him, anyway. Both of them grew fond of each other and their conversation was beginning to be a source, a tool for them to understand their souls. Thus, they were no longer mere strangers or guests in their fatherland.