7/31/10

Rewind
Elliot Richard Dorfman


The attendant adjusted the pillow behind Beatrice’s head as she sat her down on the armchair.

"Happy New Year, Ms.Turner. Have you made any special wishes for 2010?"

The eighty-five-old woman sighed. " Well, since I can’t rewind my life and start all over -just to still be around in 2011."

Recently, this elderly spinster had recently put herself into this senior residential care facility after having one of her dizzy spells at home and falling. Regretfully, she had no one to take care of her and it was obvious that living alone had become too dangerous.

The aid left and Beatrice began rummaging through a box of old photos in her lap. Her eyes filled with tears when noticing the faded image of a handsome young man. Tenderly, she put the picture to her cheek. "Oh my dear Jarred, please forgive me for being such a provincial fool."
It was twilight, and as the room grew dark, vivid memories of long ago came rushing back.

****

It was a Friday afternoon in November of 1947. Beatrice had just started teaching music in the local high school of Drumsville, a small historic town in Upstate New York. Originally from Manhattan, she enjoyed the spaciousness of the country and being far away from her interfering parents. Although all the students had been dismissed from school, the pretty brunette remained at her desk conscientiously doing next week’s lesson plans. Unnoticed, Jarred Froman, one of her bright twelfth grade students, silently walked to the back and picked up a notebook that was lying on the floor. The chimes of a nearby church clock struck five. Beatrice put away her work and became startled when she noticed the youngster.

"Jarred, why are you still in the school building? Is something the matter?"

The student slightly blushed. "No Miss Turner, I just returned to get a text book that I dropped here before dismissal. I need it to do my homework. Sorry to disturbed you."

Beatrice got up and began putting on her coat. "No problem. I was about to leave."

"Are you walking home from school?" the student inquired.

"Yes, why?"

"Well, it’s getting kind of dark and I figure it might be a good idea if I escorted you. After all, you never know who might be lurking in the streets."

Beatrice laughed. "That’s very sweet and chivalrous, but won’t your family worry that you’re not home yet?"

Jarred shook his head. "That won’t be a problem. I live just with my mom and she has full trust in me. Mom started working at the Main Street Restaurant a couple of years ago after my pop died, and won’t be home tonight until nine."

The wind picked up and it started raining heavily just as they reached her rented cottage, a few blocks away.

Beatrice opened the front door "You’d better come inside and wait out the storm. In the meantime, I’ll make something for us to eat. It’s already dinner time and you must be famished."

Pushing back his thick dirty-blond hair, He gave her a smile and looked at her with those clear marble-blue eyes that always turned on the girls in his class."Thanks, that’s really nice of you."

"Jarred is handsome enough to be a professional model," she inwardly observed.

When they entered, her student’s eyes lit up when he noticed the impressive Steinway mahogany grand piano standing in the living room.

"Wow, what a beauty!"

Recently acquired, Beatrice was able to afford this expensive piano when a next door neighbor sold the instrument for a fraction of its worth because he was moving into a small studio apartment and wanted to quickly get rid of it.

A meal of leftover roasted chicken and mashed potatoes was quickly consumed by the youthful guest. Then, after enjoying some homemade brownies and tea, he sat back with a contented look on his face. "That sure hit the spot, Miss Turner."

" I’m glad you liked it," she responded, putting the dirty dishes into the sink.

The teenager quickly got up and began helping her wash and dry them. She could feel his side against hers and felt a tinge of physical excitement.

Afterward, they went into the living room. He sat there entranced as Beatrice played "Dreams of Love" by Franz Liszt.

"It's said that Liszt wrote the piece for a girlfriend when he was only seventeen," she informed him.

"A good way to get her" Jarred replied. " Say, I was wondering, if you could give me some private piano lessons. I’ve got an old upright at home and would like to surprise Mom by being able to play for her; she really enjoys music. Unfortunately, I’m short of dough, but am willing to do any chores to make up for it."

Beatrice liked the youngster’s spunk. "I think that could be arranged. To start, I’ve got some things that have to be moved out of the attic. How about starting your lessons tomorrow morning at nine? I’ve got some free time then."

The boy was thrilled. "Fantastic, thanks. Well the rain has stopped, so I’ll be going. Have a good evening, Miss Turner."

She opened the front door and watched as he put on his coat and walked down the block.

"Some lucky gal will eventually get her hooks into him," she mused. "That boy’s got everything. Besides his looks and a sweet personality, he’s got intelligence. Such a combination is becoming rare nowadays. Too bad I’m not a few years younger."

***

On Saturday, Beatrice woke early, got dressed and had a cup of coffee. She was looking forward to giving Jarred lessons. At a quarter to nine, the doorbell rang. Jarred was very excited. "Hope that I’m not too early, Miss Turner, but I couldn’t wait to have my first piano lesson."

It didn’t take long for Beatrice to see that Jarred had talent and was quickly absorbing everything she taught like a sponge. This certainly was going to be a pleasure for her.
An hour later he rose from the bench and went to a small bag he had brought. "Well, I’m ready to start the chores, even brought some old work clothes along with me. Where can I change?"

"In the second bedroom to your left."

The door was left a bit ajar, and she could see his tall and muscular body as he undressed. Sexually aroused, the teacher embarrassingly turned away.

During the next few months, Jarred’s progress excelled to such a degree, that he was already able to play some pieces by Beethoven and Chopin. When offered free lessons, he proudly refused. "A bargain is a bargain."
At the end of one lesson, Jarred began playing a piece that Beatrice had not heard before.

"That’s nice. Who wrote it?"

Jarred laughed. "I did, Beatrice." (By now teacher and student had become close enough that she allowed him to call her by her first name when they weren’t in school.)

Beatrice was impressed. "We’ll have to add some extra time for your composing."

Eventually, Jarred was coming a few times a week, which increased his progress even more. Usually after completing his lessons and chores, she’d make something to eat and they’d sit a while discussing various topics, including his future.

"I’ve decided to major in music," he told her in March after applying and being accepted to Cornell University. "I would like to become a composer. If I don’t succeed at it, I can always fall back on teaching. Mom is very happy. She is grateful for the interest you’ve taken in me."

Beatrice took her protege’s hands. " I’m the one to be grateful for having the opportunity to teach such a gifted young man."

Suddenly, Jarred moved closer and gave her a passionate kiss. Without thinking she responded, but then quickly broke away.

"What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?" the frustrated student asked.

Beatrice smiled. "Probably too much. Oh Jarred, go and find someone your own age."

"Come on Beatrice, I’m already eighteen, that’s only four years younger than you. What’s the big deal?"

"Four years make a big difference right now. Besides, what would people say if they found out that such a relationship existed between a teacher and her high school student? It would cause a lot of trouble. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that."

"Jarred took a big breath. "Well no, but . . . "

"If I am to continue these lessons, you must promise me you’ll never do such a thing again."

The amorous student was silent for a few minutes, then nodded. "Okay, but is there any chance I can try again in a few years? By then I will have finished college and . . . "

Beatrice sighed. "Let’s be practical, Jarred. A lot can happen in four years. Sorry, but I can’t make that promise. It isn’t fair to either of us. Take my word, you’ll forget about me once you’re away in college."

The rejected young man put his head down. "You’re wrong."

****

The lessons continued without any more problems. Occasionally, Beatrice would see a sad expression come over Jarred’s face.

"He’s still upset that I refused him," she thought, "but it was the only thing I could do."

In June, Jarred graduated high school with honors. The summer came and went, then the scholar was off to college. At first, Beatrice received a letter from him every week, then only occasionally - but they never completely stopped.

"I’ve gotten a few jobs after my classes to help pay for the tuition," he wrote, "so I’m too busy to come home, even on holidays."

Truthfully, the school teacher missed her protégé terribly, and not just platonically as she rationalized. Perhaps this was the reason, there was no long-lasting relationship with any man she met. But this was something she would never admit, not even to herself.

As the old saying goes, "tempus fugit." Four years later, Beatrice was invited to Jarred’s graduation.

He gave her a big hug after the ceremonies. "Thanks for coming, Beatrice. You’re the closet person I have since mom’s passing this winter."

Beatrice put her hand on his arm. Jarred looked worn out to her, probably the consequences of working a heavy load.
Yet, there was a mature appearance about him that made him even more handsome and appealing than before.

"I’m glad I got the chance to meet your mom a few times before her heart attack. I like her very much. "

Jarred smiled. "Mom felt the same about you."

They went into a restaurant that was nearby.

"Order whatever you want, it’s my treat," Beatrice said as they sat down at a booth near a window. "So what are your future plans?"

"Well, as I wrote to you, I ‘ve gotten a scholarship for my masters at Columbia. That should take about a year. Then with some luck, I hope to get some of my music published and performed."

His former teacher beamed with pride. " That’s wonderful."

"For this summer, though, I’m taking a break and returning home. Luckily, my house is all paid for and I saved up a few bucks, so there won’t be any financial problems. Do you mind if I’d hitch a ride back with you today?"

"Of course, " Beatrice responded. "Once you’re settled in, you must come for dinner."

"Will do. I’m eager for you to hear a few new things I composed."

****

The next evening, her former protégé arrived with a bottle of sparkling brut rosé wine and a bunch of yellow roses.

"My favorite flowers! How did you know that?"she asked putting the flowers in her finest crystal vase.

"I remember you once telling me," he said, blushing.

"The wine is perfect. You certainly have become sophisticated, "she commented while opening the bottle and pouring them a glass of the wine. He took a sip and went to the piano. His hands effortlessly glided over the keys. He had indeed progressed.

"That’s lovely," Beatrice remarked. "Is it one of yours?"

Jarred was pleased. "Yes. I call it ‘Inspiration.’ The piece is dedicated to you."

Since the evening was warm, they ate dinner out on the patio. The setting was like some a romantic movie. There was a full moon, and the stars shone brightly. Jarred became unusually silent. When the meal was through, he pulled her to him. This time there was no resistance from his "inspiration." Encouraged, the musician gently began removing Beatrice’s garments, sensuality kissing her shapely breasts as he stimulated the lower erogenous zone before completing the act. Never had she experienced such sensual pleasure.

Jarred did not go home that night. In the morning she awoke to the aroma of food. He came into the bedroom carrying a tray with an omelet, toast, and coffee. After putting it down, a yellow rose was put in her hair.

"Good morning, darling. Enjoy your breakfast while I make a few calls. I have some important changes to make. I figured that after last night, we should get engaged, then married in a few months. Assuming you’ll want to keep your job, I’ll hold off getting my masters for a while and apply for a teaching position that was offered at Mayfield high. That’s only about twenty minutes from here."

He turned toward the door, but Beatrice quickly got up and stopped him."Wait a moment. Aren’t you rushing it?"

The young man turned and stared at her. "I figured you’d want to. There’s nothing stopping us now."

"But you’ll be throwing away your scholarship. Columbia has such a good program. It will only take you about a year, and that will be sufficient time for people to accept our intentions and not start gossiping with all kind of nasty thoughts."

"I don’t give a damn about them or even the scholarship. You can’t imagine how hard it was to stay away from you these past four years. Truthfully, that’s why I never came back to visit. I knew if I did, I’d never be able to leave you again. Now there’s no reason to. What kind of a game are you playing?"

Jarred angrily stomped out of the room and left the house, slamming the front door behind him. Beatrice got dressed, hoping he was cool off his temper off on the porch.

Someone was calling to her. Disoriented for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The attendant opened the door and walked in.

"Ms. Turner, are you all right? Everyone was worried when you didn’t show for dinner. I brought something up for you."

"Is it that late? I guess I lost track of time."

The attendant bent down and picked up something from the floor. "This just fell out of your hair. My gosh, where did you get this pretty, yellow rose?"

Beatrice gasped.

****

During the next week, the old spinster remained in her room, no matter how much the attendants tried coaxing her out.

"I don’t have the strength," she told them. "Just let me have some peace and privacy."

The doctor was summoned.

"I’ve prescribed some medicine for her heart. It’s a bit irregular," he said. "It might be a good idea to let Ms. Turner continue resting in her room for a while longer."

Left alone in her room, she sat in her armchair day after day.

"I must return back again to that last time I saw Jarred," she repeated to herself, but the attempts seemed futile.

"Oh, I hope it wasn’t just a fluke," she miserably cried out. "I want the chance to atone for my transgressions. Things could have worked out so well! Instead, for fifty-eight years I’ve been living with guilt."

Right or wrong, she had always blamed herself for the events that occurred when Jarred left that morning. Angry, he wasn’t paying attention when crossing the street. A speeding car banged into him, instantly snuffing out his life.
The only one close to him, Beatrice had to arrange for his funeral. A month later, the morning sickness came. Having no where else to turn, she went to her parents. They sat there listening without a sign of compassion.

"In your situation you have no choice but to abort," her father coldly advised.

Beatrice turned pale. "Oh, no, father."

Her mother agreed. " Better listen to your father, Beatrice. Face up to it, if anyone in that small, provincial town finds out your condition, your reputation will be ruined and you’ll be fired. I happen to have a friend whose daughter was in a similar situation and knows where you can safely and discretely alleviate the problem."

"I guess there’s no other choice then," Beatrice whispered.

Everything was quickly arranged and by the next day it was over.

"You must think ahead," Mr. Turner said. "Look for a nice guy, marry, and start a family. You’ll be too busy to think of the past."

" I’ll never be interested in another man as long as I live." She never saw her parents again after that.

****

It was three in the morning when Beatrice awoke with a start. Although it was difficult for her, she slowly got out of bed. Getting the photograph from the box, she sat down on the armchair and again gently put it to her cheek. "I wasn’t holding that precious photograph of Jarred next to me.


That’s why I haven’t been able to go back again."

She closed her eyes and concentrated so hard that her head hurt. Nothing happened for a moment than someone touched her hair. It was Jarred putting a yellow rose in her hair. Her eyes flooded with tears and she gave him a big kiss that almost made him tip over the tray.

The man was delighted."Good morning, darling. Enjoy your breakfast while I make a few calls. I have some important changes to make. Assuming you’ll want to keep your job, I’ll hold off getting my masters for a while and apply for a teaching position that was offered at Mayfield high. That’s only about twenty minutes from here."


Beatrice put her hand around his shoulders and embraced him again. "Perfect, darling!"

Yes, everything was going to be fine from now on. She’d see to that!

****

The attendant sat in the cafeteria looking very sad as she drank a cup of coffee. One of her colleagues came over.

"Why are you looking so gloomy?"

The attendant sighed. "Oh, I’m just thinking of Ms. Turner. That poor old lady had no family and was all alone. Early this morning she was found dead, sitting in an armchair and still holding some faded picture of a man tightly in her hand."


- - -
Elliot Richard Dorfman, retired teacher, theatre director & musician for over thirty-one years, has had over seventy-four short stories published in the past three years. For further detailed information go to elrite.webs.com