The Piano Lesson

The piano lived in the room downstairs where I plodded through my childhood and Thompson’s Piano Guides, running my fingers over the chipped ivory keys like Liberace, which made for a hazardous bliss. Aunt Gladys taught me how to play when I was six years old. She had the creamiest skin despite growing up on the farm. Married late to an affable Irishman who made me my first cocktail– a daquiri, strong and tangy and sweet, and right away at age 14 I loved that sunny, fuzzy feeling of watching the world go by like a show on TV. Over time, my left hand learned slower than the right, and I grew desperate to avoid the way she counted out loud, “one-ee-and-a-two-ee-and-a” – her command to concentrate on everything all at once – head up, back straight, wrists even, hands slightly cupped, as if I could hold a little bird in each one. And I hated those birds beneath my palms, shivering with fright, began plotting to get rid of Aunt Gladys, not permanently, of course, just some elaborate scheme involving an emergency trip to Paris, anything to keep her away from me. So when I found out she broke her arm in a car accident and wouldn’t be teaching me anymore that summer, I was full of a terrible joy.

KateLynn Hibbard

 
KateLynn Hibbard sporadically practices the piano and sings alto in the world’s largest LGBTQ+ musical group, One Voice Mixed Chorus. Her website is http://katelynnhibbard.com