The same chain of notes, over and over, sustained by the pedal, a wave in minor evoking lightplay at the bottom of the ocean. Her tempo is imperfect, but the image is still clear: my sister is learning Le Onde.
I started out teaching her the intro, which is simple enough even for a beginner, and when she'd mastered that and wished to learn the next part, I taught her the right hand notes of that.
"Eh, j'ai réussi !"
I applaud, outwardly approving, while in my heart my inner child leaps with joy at the prospect of another musician in the family. An apprentice. That would be...
Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
"J'ai re-réussi !"
"Bravo ! Continue..."
"J'suis trop douée."
"Oui."
She keeps practising, the volume turned down low, and the sweet melody is perfect for the quiet of the evening and the dim yellow light in our almost-tidy living room. I could almost be at peace right now.
She gets up, about to leave.
"Eh, reviens !"
"Quoi ?"
"Joue encore, ça m'inspire."
She laughs, then realizes I'm serious. Looking bemused, but flattered, she sits back on the piano stool and practises some more until I've finished my piece.
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