Leaving Home: Chapter 3
Leaving Home: Chapter 3
The conflict between Sayville and Constance
Everett seemed to know the Dysa's - Farmer and Sharline - or Sharla as he called her in his stories. For he told stories to Everett and Macy of the years when he taught 8 of their other children in his horn shop. One particular story he told that Chris will never forget is of the conflict between Sayville and Constance. Constance was the oldest Dysa child, now having been at the final mountain for about 23 years. Sayville was her younger sister - two years younger, who almost never made it to that mountain.
"The final mountain," Everett would say, "seeks only to know your hidden thoughts. Not the things you do, or the way you play your horn, the way you paint, build or create other things. No, the final mountain desires only to know how it is you arrived - your strategy and your process - how it is you got there."
"Why is that?" Chris had once asked Everett while they polished their horns one sunny afternoon in the courtyard behind the shop. It is then that he had told the story of Constance and Sayville for the first time.
"Your older sister Constance was a great French horn player," he began. "The greatest I have ever worked with. In fact, she has surpassed me. When it comes to syncopation, breathing and technique, she soars above the rest. And I've worked with plenty a student! But she was proud and selfish. 'Get thee behind me', she had said to her younger sister Sayville, who was also attempting to learn the French horn. And with words such as those, Constance would push her sister down.
"The intimidation got to her over the weeks and years, and although they were roommates, Sayville would often flee to the wilderness to get some peace and quiet from her sister's constant put downs. It was there in the wilderness one day that Constance had come to find her sister with an evil intent in words. It was her goal to so discourage her younger sister that she'd never want to pick up a French horn, or any other horn, for that matter."
"Sayville claims to have heard the great Horn Player himself in those days in the wilderness, as she would continue to go out there to find silence and her sister Constance would pursue her two or three times a week to so torment her in the wilderness." Chris never forgot the words that Sayville had said she heard from the Horn Player as passed on to him by Everett.
Sing O your song
Shout all day long
Your sister is a throng
Saying you don't belong
Fight now your war
O sister, for you are
Closer than before
Closer than before
Sing O your song
Sing all day long
Your sister will come
It will soon be done
Can you contain
The melody within?
"And with words like that, Sayville was comforted", is what Everett would tell Chris in those days in the shop when it was only Chris and Everett. Chris learned from his older sister's story that the melody within cannot be contained. "But the greatest tragedy of all," Everett had said, "is when a person forfeits their own melody. We cannot lose, as long as we keep pursuing our goal."
There's that goal again, Chris thought to himself. Two hours had passed by in the co-rider and now that they had out-flown the eagleflints, they headed westward again into the noonday sun. What are my goals? he asked himself. But today it didn't seem to matter. He was headed to the final mountain and the Horn Player would see his deeds, and not only his deeds, but his inner motives. That is what the final mountain seeks, is it not? he asked himself, hoping that the Horn Player could hear him - his inner thoughts.
Chris took out his trumpet and closed his bag again. He looked upon his trumpet - shiny but well used. His coach had given it to him when he turned 12 in 2037. What a day that had been! This trumpet has seen many hours of practice, a few bumps and spills, such as the time Everett had sent Chris to the bank to cash a check. He had tripped on a root plant and dropped the trumpet so hard against the pavement that he was almost sure it would be irreparable. Everett had indeed repaired it, but it gave the trumpet more character than before. And that is why Chris liked it so much.
"We'll be landing in half an hour," the pilot mentioned to Chris as they saw the mountains in the distance. I wonder which one is the final mountain, Chris guessed. He thought that maybe it was the tall one to the right of the mountain peaks - the tallest and biggest one. Just then the co-rider's alarm went off and both the pilot and Chris's hair stood up on their arms for fear as they heard an eagleflint's beak crash upon the southeast wing of the co-rider.
Chris grabbed his trumpet which had almost fallen off and stowed it away in his bag.
"Get on the floor!" the pilot screamed to Chris as he closed the sunroof. Just then another three eagleflints appeared in the rearview mirror. "Here, grab this facemask and pull the handle on the left when I tell you to."
"Why? What are we going to do?" Chris yelped.
"We're not going to make it to the mountains on this flight, little buddy," the pilot said as he reached for the eject button.
The conflict between Sayville and Constance
Everett seemed to know the Dysa's - Farmer and Sharline - or Sharla as he called her in his stories. For he told stories to Everett and Macy of the years when he taught 8 of their other children in his horn shop. One particular story he told that Chris will never forget is of the conflict between Sayville and Constance. Constance was the oldest Dysa child, now having been at the final mountain for about 23 years. Sayville was her younger sister - two years younger, who almost never made it to that mountain.
"The final mountain," Everett would say, "seeks only to know your hidden thoughts. Not the things you do, or the way you play your horn, the way you paint, build or create other things. No, the final mountain desires only to know how it is you arrived - your strategy and your process - how it is you got there."
"Why is that?" Chris had once asked Everett while they polished their horns one sunny afternoon in the courtyard behind the shop. It is then that he had told the story of Constance and Sayville for the first time.
"Your older sister Constance was a great French horn player," he began. "The greatest I have ever worked with. In fact, she has surpassed me. When it comes to syncopation, breathing and technique, she soars above the rest. And I've worked with plenty a student! But she was proud and selfish. 'Get thee behind me', she had said to her younger sister Sayville, who was also attempting to learn the French horn. And with words such as those, Constance would push her sister down.
"The intimidation got to her over the weeks and years, and although they were roommates, Sayville would often flee to the wilderness to get some peace and quiet from her sister's constant put downs. It was there in the wilderness one day that Constance had come to find her sister with an evil intent in words. It was her goal to so discourage her younger sister that she'd never want to pick up a French horn, or any other horn, for that matter."
"Sayville claims to have heard the great Horn Player himself in those days in the wilderness, as she would continue to go out there to find silence and her sister Constance would pursue her two or three times a week to so torment her in the wilderness." Chris never forgot the words that Sayville had said she heard from the Horn Player as passed on to him by Everett.
Sing O your song
Shout all day long
Your sister is a throng
Saying you don't belong
Fight now your war
O sister, for you are
Closer than before
Closer than before
Sing O your song
Sing all day long
Your sister will come
It will soon be done
Can you contain
The melody within?
"And with words like that, Sayville was comforted", is what Everett would tell Chris in those days in the shop when it was only Chris and Everett. Chris learned from his older sister's story that the melody within cannot be contained. "But the greatest tragedy of all," Everett had said, "is when a person forfeits their own melody. We cannot lose, as long as we keep pursuing our goal."
There's that goal again, Chris thought to himself. Two hours had passed by in the co-rider and now that they had out-flown the eagleflints, they headed westward again into the noonday sun. What are my goals? he asked himself. But today it didn't seem to matter. He was headed to the final mountain and the Horn Player would see his deeds, and not only his deeds, but his inner motives. That is what the final mountain seeks, is it not? he asked himself, hoping that the Horn Player could hear him - his inner thoughts.
Chris took out his trumpet and closed his bag again. He looked upon his trumpet - shiny but well used. His coach had given it to him when he turned 12 in 2037. What a day that had been! This trumpet has seen many hours of practice, a few bumps and spills, such as the time Everett had sent Chris to the bank to cash a check. He had tripped on a root plant and dropped the trumpet so hard against the pavement that he was almost sure it would be irreparable. Everett had indeed repaired it, but it gave the trumpet more character than before. And that is why Chris liked it so much.
"We'll be landing in half an hour," the pilot mentioned to Chris as they saw the mountains in the distance. I wonder which one is the final mountain, Chris guessed. He thought that maybe it was the tall one to the right of the mountain peaks - the tallest and biggest one. Just then the co-rider's alarm went off and both the pilot and Chris's hair stood up on their arms for fear as they heard an eagleflint's beak crash upon the southeast wing of the co-rider.
Chris grabbed his trumpet which had almost fallen off and stowed it away in his bag.
"Get on the floor!" the pilot screamed to Chris as he closed the sunroof. Just then another three eagleflints appeared in the rearview mirror. "Here, grab this facemask and pull the handle on the left when I tell you to."
"Why? What are we going to do?" Chris yelped.
"We're not going to make it to the mountains on this flight, little buddy," the pilot said as he reached for the eject button.
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