I Am Yours, Mr Chevalier!
The Part 90
"Until when are we going to be singing someone else's song continuously, isn't it in your mind to create our own song?"
Mia sits leaning against a cushioned chair at Will's house, which doubles as a basecamp and Funeralopolis studio. A small band formed by Mia and Brandon a year ago, and followed by Will and Graham who had just four months to join.
The four of them had just finished their weekly training.
"Maybe it's time." Brandon, the handsome long-haired black man, looked at Mia, Will and Graham.
"You got the lyrics?" will asked, pointing at Mia.
"Yep."
Mia stepped towards an upright piano that was in the corner of the room. Then sit in front of him. Touching one key in D minor. Then fingers the girl skillfully played a few notes that sorted on the first note she pressed earlier.
"Something like that" he said, stopping his piano playing. "I'll bring the lyrics next time."
"Wow, gloomy," said Brandon. Followed by Will and Graham's head nods.
Mia smiling. Then he got up from his seat and grabbed his sling bag located on the table. Grabbing a violin that has been wrapped in a black softcase then attaching it to her tiny back.
"I gota go, guys .. see you next week" Mia said as she waved to her three friends.
"Mia, let me take you home," exclaimed Brandon as he followed the girl's steps out of Will's house.
"Will it trouble you? Isn't your house opposite my apartment?" Mia squinted her forehead.
"Not at all," replied Brandon as he opened the door of his old ford parked on the side of the road.
"Okay." Mia immediately got into the car and Brandon who had been behind the steering wheel, turned on the engine and also the wiper to get rid of the thin snow that covered the windshield of the car, which was, then start driving out of the area.
***
"How's your body, Rose .. You feel better?"
Mia pushes Madame Rose's wheelchair through the garden of the parlour. The view of winter is stunning, with trees covered in snow.
"Yes, I've been feeling better" replied Madame Rose.
Mia stopped Madame Rose's wheelchair which she was pushing, then walked to the woman's front and confirmed her slightly open shawl.
"Thanks, Mia," Madame Rose said as she stroked the back of the girl's hand.
Mia nodded. Then push back the wheelchair and continue their walk.
"Mia, you remind me of someone" Madame Rose said.
"Owh, who is he?"
Madame Rose took a deep breath. Looking blankly ahead.
"Someone who means a lot in my granddaughter's life .a very good woman."
Mia's memory floated on the long blonde-haired man she saw a few days ago visiting Madame Rose. The man with the familiar face yet Mia failed to remember him.
"Ah, Mia .. do you also work anywhere other than here?"
"Yeah, I'm filling regular music at cafes in Brooklyn and around with my band."
Madame Rose's eyes were round. "You're a musician?"
"Attomans musicians." Mia chuckles.
"Wow .. what instrument do you play, Mia?"
"Emc .. I play violin, and also piano, and a little bit of guitar, but mostly I play violin in my band and sing."
Mia. "I love music so much, but to survive in New York, music alone won't feed you enough, so I'm forced to work here. And at the same time I tried to pursue my career in music. That's ...."
Madame Rose nodded.
"You know, my granddaughter, who you saw a few days ago, is also a musician."
"really?"
"Yes, he's a great guitarist."
"How nice."
The man's face returned. Handsome and cold face. And his blue eyes are hinting at the pain there.
"I'll introduce you to her one day" Madame Rose said.
There was a feeling in Mia's chest, but the girl did not know what kind of feeling it was.
"It's getting cold, Rose, I'll take you to your room."
***
Mia pressed the bell at a grocery store in the 6th avenue area named Warung Indonesia. The shop is closed. Seen from a small board inscribed closed that hangs on the glass.
A while waiting, a middle-aged man with a southeastern Asian face appeared to open the door.
"Hallo om," Mia said to the man.
"Mia, come on in," said the man with his face.
Mia followed the man upstairs. There, at the dinner table, a middle-aged woman and a short-haired girl were waiting.
"Hi, Auntie, Debby, happy Thanksgiving." Mia placed the box of brownies she had brought onto the table that had been filled with food dishes, then hugged the two in turns.
"It's also you, too," said the middle-aged woman coldly. The short-haired girl smiled cynically.
Mia sighed softly, her uncle's family did not like her very much.
Two years living in the country people try to pursue his music career. A year and a half hitchhiking at the home of his uncle, Om Surya who has been an immigrant for years in the country. Until finally five months ago Mia decided to stay alone and fend for herself. Mia's heart was already not strong enough to accept the treatment of her uncle's wife, Aunt Merry and her cousin Debby, who blatantly disliked her presence, which was considered a burden.
"Come, Mia .. fill your plate, we'll have dinner quietly." Om Surya who felt the tension between the three women was trying to melt the atmosphere.
"Well, now work?" aunt Merry asked still with her cold attitude.
"Udah, Aunt, at the Linden Center, taking care of the elderly,"
mia answered while filling her plate with pieces of turkey and vegetable meat.
"Well, good dong, have no more papa nicotine," said Debby as she glanced at her father. He and his mother know, Om Surya still occasionally transfers him money to help Mia meet the needs of her life.
"Debby!" exclaim Om Surya to the child only wayangnya. The girl smiled cynically.
Mia's throat felt dry, so the food she chewed felt difficult to swallow.
"How's your music developing, son?" tanya Om Surya diverted the conversation.
"Lumayan, Om. . I regularly check out some cafes in Brooklyn and around every weekend."
"That's great, Mia," said Om Surya.
Mia smiling. Look at Aunt Merry and the indifferent Debby. The atmosphere of the dinner seemed to run slowly in Mia's mind. The girl was really not comfortable. If it wasn't for this invitation from her uncle, Mia would have thought a thousand times to come to this house again.
***
