Chapter the Third of Part the Second
In which the narrative recounts acts from the life of Kyle Pen Terraga in Puurraskin, Mastruum.
“KYLE!” Aunt Myrtle screeched.
“How may I serve you?” Kyle asked her.
“My sister requests that you be her attendant while she entertains in the West Parlor this evening.”
Kyle knew that already and was on his way to the kitchen to report for duty.
“Is there any food or drink that I should bring now?”
“Of course there is. Don’t keep my sister waiting for you.”
Kyle knew it was no use telling Aunt Myrtle that he would have reached the kitchen by this time and picked up the food tray if she had not stopped him.
“I will do as you ask with no further delay.”
“See that you do. My sister is entertaining some very important guests.”
According to Aunt Myrtle, every guest entertained by her sister was important. Kyle walked briskly into the kitchen and almost collided with a cousin who was carrying a tray of drinks.
“Why don’t you watch where your going?”
“I’m reporting to take food and drink to Aunt Maria in the West Parlor.”
“Then can take this. My aunt told me to take the tray because you had not reported on time.”
The cousin thrust the tray into Kyle’s stomach and it was all Kyle could do to keep from doubling over in pain and dropping the tray. He walked off as briskly as he could and waited until he was well down the hall before he slowed down and tried to regain his wind.
“KYLE!” Aunt Myrtle yelled at him. “My sister is waiting for you. This is no time for you to slow down and inconvenience her. Use the legs your mother gave you and put yourself into the West Parlor.”
“I will do as you ask with no further delay,” Kyle gasped.
When Kyle reached the West Parlor, he found Aunt Maria sitting alone in her usual dark green chair. The porcelain oil lamps that he had lit were shining brightly. The hammerharp was rolled out into the position where Kyle put it before he spent all morning tuning it, a new skill he had just been taught and which he seemed to do well.
“Put my drink on my tray table and put the other two drinks on the other two tray tables,” Aunt Maria ordered. “A messenger has just reported that my guests should be at the door shortly. We need the snack tray now.”
“I will bring the snack tray to this parlor with no further delay.”
As he walked back to the kitchen, Kyle’s thoughts drifted to the times he had spent in the secret room off the parlor since discovering it. He had feared that he would never find his way there a second time, but it seemed that each time he came to the West Parlor he only needed to sing a snatch of a sad song and the gap in the book case appeared. Having a place where he could sing to his heart’s content was a great boon to Kyle. It was still a lonely place, but it was his. Seeing another boy suddenly appear there was a fearful experience at first. That boy was the first person Kyle had ever seen who didn’t wear a house livery, an offense severely punishable by law. Instead, the boy wore furs such as nobody wore except for some leading ladies who had fur trimming on their livery. Not only that, but the boy wore two interlocked ear rings on both ears, something that no boy in Mastruum ever did. The boy, Danzigger, as he was called, encouraged Kyle to sing and so he did. Singing with the boy from a strange world was healing for him. After his return to his aunt’s house, he walked so tall that he drew heavy fire from one of his cousins for looking arrogant.
When Kyle heard singing in that room the next time he entered it and then saw two boys wearing an unusual livery design, he was so scared he almost ran back, but the two boys were, like Danzigger, very friendly. Although they looked like inheritors, they didn’t act like it and they, too, invited Kyle to sing with them. When more stones lit up and the strange words appeared on one of the stones, Kyle began to feel that the place truly was his and that it belonged to him and the other boys he had met and perhaps many more besides. As the other boys had given him their names, the place had given its name as well: Merithwell.
Since then, Kyle was haunted by the strange feelings that meeting those three boys in Merithwell had stirred up in him. It wasn’t just the strangeness of meeting boys who claimed to come from different worlds other than Mastruum. It wasn’t even the boys’ apparent inability to understand the Inheritance System of Mastruum. It had to do with the way the boys talked to Kyle. They did not treat him the way everybody in Mastruum treated him. Not even his Aunt Maria, who seemed to like him, ever spoke directly to him except to give an order. Danzigger, Luke and Brendan talked directly to Kyle in a way that was against the law in Mastruum. Kyle had often attended to his brothers and sisters and cousins while they talked to fellow inheritors who were called friends. The boys in Merithwell talked like that to him. Disinherited children, however, were forbidden by law to speak directly to anybody, not even to another disinherited relative, except for giving and receiving orders. Kyle could only hope that his new friends did not get in trouble for the way they talked to him.
“It’s about time you got here,” said the kitchen aunt. Kyle hadn’t learned her name yet and he didn’t need to know it since it was not for him to call on her for anything. “Here is the snack tray. Now use the two legs your mother gave you and carry the snack tray to the West Parlor. My sister’s guests have just arrived at the front door and they are being escorted to the West Parlor by their attendants. They will be most unhappy if they must wait even an instant for the snacks they are expecting after making the journey to our household.”
Kyle could have been half-way back to the West Parlor by the time the little lecture was finished if the kitchen aunt had not made it.
“I will do as you ask with not a second’s delay,” said Kyle as he picked up the snack tray.
“And make sure you don’t help yourself to anything,” the kitchen aunt reminded him. “If you do, my arrangement will be destroyed and my sister and her guests will know what you have done and they will make you wish you had not done it.”
Kyle knew the rules but his aunt seemed to feel more important as long as she could remind her younger disinherited relatives of every rule they might possibly break. Kyle walked briskly back to the West Parlor, trying not to dwell on the rich smell of the pastries, and arrived at the parlor just as the two guests were being seated. That was a relief. He would not be reprimanded for keeping them waiting for their snacks. One of the guests was a woman about Aunt Maria’s age. She had brought her own attendant, a young man who gave Kyle a hard look. The other guest was a boy who appeared to be close to Kyle’s age. He wore the same livery as the woman, whom Kyle took to be his mother, but he sat in his assigned chair rather uneasily and did not pick up his drink until his mother picked up hers and nodded to him. The boy was attended to by Kyle’s cousin Meg. She glared at Kyle to show that she resented attending a mere boy while Kyle was attending to her mother. The clash between the livery worn by the inheritors compared to that of the disinherited was particularly pronounced on occasions such as this. The family design was the same, but while the clothing for an inheriting relative was very fine with brilliant colors, that of the disinherited was coarse and the corresponding colors dull, making his livery a shabby imitation of what his betters wore. Kyle offered the tray first to the woman who was positioned in the chair for the first serving. When she took what she wanted, Kyle offered it to the boy, who was next in line, as all guests were served before a member of the hosting household. He reached for some treats eagerly.
“Franco!” the woman said firmly. “I suggest you wait until you have sung for Mrs. Pen Barga.”
The boy sighed and waved the tray on. Kyle realized then that the boy, in spite of being an inheritor, was very unhappy. He offered the tray to his aunt who took two treats and then Kyle set the tray down on a table within easy reach of all. Kyle positioned himself behind his aunt, to her right, where he was ready to respond to her every need. Wondering if the other woman was also unhappy, Kyle caught a glimpse of her. She did indeed appear to be troubled about something. These observations made Kyle think back on other inheritors he had served and he was led to the startling conclusion that, in general, inheritors did not often look all that happy. It amazed him that he had not noticed it before, but then his own life was so miserable that he just assumed that the people who did the most to make him miserable were happier than he was.
“Mabel,” said Aunt Maria. “Might Franco want to sing now?”
Franco looked as if he did not want to sing at any time.
“You won’t have to dread it any longer if you do it now,” his mother prompted him.
“All right.”
Franco nodded to Meg and she handed him a book. Kyle noticed that his cousin Meg was getting that glint in her eye that she got when she had an opportunity to torment him. Since Franco was an inheritor, Kyle could not understand why he should be so reluctant to sing for Aunt Maria. He was allowed by law to sing and inheritors were considered to be the ones fit to sing, read, and run the world. Franco stood up and walked over to the hammerharp while his mother sat down on the bench at the keyboard. She played a note and Franco hummed it.
“Your hammer harp is in much better tune than at other times,” Franco’s mother observed.
“The skill has just been learned by a disinherited nephew who has a particularly good ear,” Aunt Maria replied. “It is amazing how a boy who couldn’t possibly learn to play the instrument or sing can do such good work.”
That was the closest thing to a compliment Kyle had ever received in his life except for the kind words his friends in Merithwell had spoken to him. The woman played a few rolled chords and then nodded to her son. Franco turned pale, took a deep breath and sang. Kyle could scarcely believe his ears. The boy’s tone was coarse and the notes sour. Meg had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, an unpardonable offense for a disinherited child. Kyle did not feel like laughing at all. The poor, wooden singing was painful to his ears. Kyle noted that if Aunt Maria was reacting in the same way, she was doing a good job of hiding it. The song came to a middle section that Kyle noticed was typical of much music he had heard. The melodic line became trickier and Franco’s notes became more sour and finally his singing broke down altogether.
“Keep going,” his mother prompted him.
Franco took another deep breath and plunged back into the song. If anything, his singing was worse than ever. Although Kyle had never heard the song before, he was quite sure that what the boy was singing had little to do with how the song should be sung. Franco looked at his mother as if hoping she would deliver him from finishing the embarrassing performance but she went on playing the accompaniment and the boy had no choice but to struggle to the bitter end. As soon as he finished, he sat down, not even waiting for his mother to finish her part, and downed the full contents of his glass. Hoping to help the situation, Kyle picked up the tray of snacks and offered it to Franco, even though Franco could have reached it anyway. Franco snatched several treats and popped one in his mouth right away, while Meg picked up the glass and ran off to the kitchen to refill it.
“You have quite a voice,” said Aunt Maria to Franco.
“He does, doesn’t he?” the boy’s mother replied.
Franco said nothing. He stuffed another treat into his mouth as if hoping that eating would make the song go away as if he had never sung it.
“Are your plans for him what they were when you last spoke to me about him?” asked Aunt Maria.
“Of course they are the same,” said Franco’s mother. “Every inheriting child on both sides of the family has attended the Wearmont Universal Music Institute as a choral scholar for at least eight generations.”
“And so you cannot break that tradition now, I take it?”
“The disgrace would be too great.”
“Is Franco accepted at the Institute?”
“Of course. They automatically accept every child in our family.”
“Are you sure that this is the wiser course for you to take?”
“As a member of the boys’ choir, I am sure that Franco can use his abilities to the best benefit of the choir, for himself, and for the family.”
“I dare say he could.”
All this time, Franco ate one treat after another, and gave no indication that he heard the conversation going on around him. Kyle could not help but think that the boy was being treated as one of the disinherited in spite of his wearing a dress livery, being seated in a chair and being served food and drink. Neither the boy’s mother nor Kyle’s aunt were speaking directly to him, but they were treating him as if he were not there. It was a bit of a relief to Kyle when his aunt finally turned her head in Franco’s direction.
“Franco, I am sure you realize that music has a unique power to ennoble the inner being of a human and raise it up to a high level.
“Yes, I realize that,” Franco said miserably.
Then she faced Franco’s mother again.
“So, do you wish to follow through with the plan we talked about before, Mabel?”
“I believe we have to,” said Aunt Maria’s friend.
“No, you do not have to go through with that plan. However, you seem to wish to do that. Is that right?”
“Yes, that is right,” said the woman.
“Franco? Do you choose to go through with the plan?”
“Yes,” the boy replied, but whatever the plan was, he did not seem very enthusiastic about it.
Aunt Maria sighed.
“Well, it will be quite a sacrifice for me to help you,” said Kyle’s aunt, “but perhaps it will all be to the good in the end. At least I hope so. You will be giving me your two youngest daughters in exchange, then?”
“That will be a hard sacrifice for us,” said the woman, “but I think I should give you something in return. I think that the younger of these girls will be a good attendant for you.”
That made Kyle’s ears perk up. Was he about to be deprived of the musical events his aunt listened to with him in attendance?
“I hope it works out that way,” said Aunt Maria. “I hope, Franco, that you can be made happy by this plan in some way.”
“I hope so, too.”
But he did not sound hopeful.
“Then is it settled?” asked Aunt Maria.
“It is settled if you still agree to it,” said Franco’s mother.
“Then, Kyle will be Franco’s attendant at the Wearmont Universal Music Institute,” said Aunt Maria.
Proceed to Chapter the Fourth of Part the Second