She checked his hands for cold fingers, made him breathe, and told him he was not allowed to apologize if he made an error. “You recover,” she said. “Musicians recover.” The audition panel consisted of three faculty members including Evelyn.
Eli entered alone. Sarah and Mrs. Alvarez waited outside because families were not allowed in the room. The door closed.
Sarah stared at it for what felt like an hour. Inside, Eli sat at a seven-foot grand piano and discovered in the first chord that the instrument was the best thing he had ever touched. The keys responded evenly from top to bottom. The pedal caught exactly where his foot expected.
The sound did not need to be forced into the room; it opened on its own. For one dangerous second he became so fascinated by the piano that he almost forgot the people listening. Then he began. Mozart first.
Clean, controlled, slightly slower than the station. Burgmüller second, with one missed note in the middle section that made heat flash through his face. He did what Mrs. Alvarez told him.
He recovered. “Shenandoah” last, because Evelyn had asked to hear the arrangement that first caught her attention. Afterward the panel asked questions. How long had he studied?
What did he enjoy about practicing? What did he dislike? Eli answered honestly that scales were boring until he improved at them, after which they became satisfying. One faculty member asked what kind of musician he wanted to become.
Eli thought for a long time. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “I just want enough time with a piano to find out.” Evelyn wrote something down.