He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, drawing so near Colin could smell the heavily sugared coffee on Roland’s breath. “And then what happened. Right in the nick of time, this so-called blind child caught sight of what we had all missed. A person we had known and trusted for almost ten years was perpetuating an act of criminal fraud.Not against you, Colin. Against us all. Do you hear what I’m saying?You. Saved. Us.”
Roland stayed like that. Inches from Colin’s face. Driving home the message with a silence so intense he forced his way through Colin’s painful guilt. Not healing the rift. But at least offering a hint of solace.
Finally, Garcia broke the silence by saying, “So. No upfront commission on any future investment. Anything else I should be made aware of?”
Through the long super-heated spring and summer, into the cooler autumn months. Winter came and proceeded smoothly into yet another spring. Almost abruptly, he turned fourteen. More seasons, pushed and crammed and segmented by studies and exams and new responsibilities.
The next seismic change struck the week before his fifteenth birthday.
Fremdt suggested it was time to find a thesis topic.
It took him a long moment to understand what the professor was talking about. When he remained silent, Fremdt unleashed his trademark ire. “What, you think I will let you coast here forever?”
“I’m not coasting.”
“I see you in class. Bored and idle and mooning over the pretty girls twice your age.”
“I don’t moon.”
“You’re notstruggling.” He gripped the air between them with ham-sized fists. “I want to see yousweat.”
Colin had no idea how to respond.
“There, you see?” Fremdt dropped his hands and his gaze to the papers littering his desk. “I give you until the summer. Either you find something worth struggling over, or I find it for you. I tell the dean you begin graduate studies next fall.”
Colin remained where he was. “But I won’t graduate for another eighteen months.”
“You think you are the first person who is ready before the university system says?” Fremdt did not bother to look up. “You keep earning credits. You do both degrees together. Now go. It’s time I make other students sweat.”
It was during his birthday visit to the barber that Colin was introduced to his next passion. The diminutive hairdresser’s name was Angelo, and he revealed himself to be a true fanatic when it came to vinyl. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard the difference.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, this is too important to discuss in pieces.” Angelo seemed almost angry, the way he snapped the towel off Colin, then brushed him down with harsh drumbeats timed to his words. “And too complex to handle in dribs and drabs.”
The younger barber, the man who had cut Colin’s hair that second time months and centuries ago, said, “You best run while you still can.”
Angelo demanded, “Remind me why I don’t fire you.”
“’Cause you know I’m the voice of reason here.” The younger man made a shooing motion to Colin. “Fast as you can. Out the door. Don’t never look back.”
Angelo led Colin up to the front. “We close at seven. You want, get back here after all these heretics have gone home.”
Colin was not certain what he was going to do, nor could he say how he felt about Angelo’s invitation. He ate a solitary dinner at the mall’s Italian restaurant, bought a ticket to the film he’d spent two weeks looking forward to seeing. But as he passed through the cinema’s lobby, he veered around and went back to the circular booth where the cinema manager observed the evening crowd. He handed the woman his ticket and said, “Something’s come up. I need to change this for another night.”
Colin wasn’t certain how he felt about this next step, meeting a man he really didn’t know behind the closed doors of a business after hours. When he knocked on the shop’s glass doors and Angelo peered out at him, he realized the barber felt exactly the same. Instantly his unease vanished. He waited while Angelo relocked the door, then followed him past the empty leather chairs into a back office. Angelo pointed him to a leather office chair positioned directly in front of a stereo system that climbed a series of steel and glass shelves. “Sit there.”
Angelo left the office and returned with one of the chairs meant to hold waiting customers. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”
“Neither was I.”
Angelo seemed to like that. He cut on the system, made numerous adjustments, then said, “Ever heard the work of Keith Jarrett?”
“No.”
“Good. I want to start with someone you don’t know.” He started to punch a button, then said, “We’re going to use piano because it best illustrates what I’m going to show you. This is a first-class digital recording. Ready?”
“Yes.”
