“If you focused on getting a wife like you did on playing the piano, you’d be married with babies by now, Victor!” If Victor had a quarter for every time his mom said this or some variation of it, he would single-handedly have enough to money to give them the lifestyle they so lusted after. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how things in life tended to work. They were still poor and he still bore the thinly-veiled insult with a tired, well practiced smile and a worn, polished, apology.
He closed the piano with gentle fingers and turned to face the plump woman standing before him with her hands on her hips; smiling his careful, placating smile. “I know mum. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll work on it, ok?” She puffed up like a proud mother hen and nodded as if she had known that she’d agree with her all along.
“Good. Now go get a haircut. You look like a shaggy dog.” She didn’t wait for him to reply before bustling back into the kitchen to see to her soup. Only when she vanished into the other room did Victor sigh and slump over the piano. This wasn’t a new argument by any means but it always left him feeling tired and a little sad. He knew she meant well. He kept telling himself that as he pulled a hair elastic off his wrist and pulled his hair up out of his face. He opened the piano lid and gently touched the smooth piano keys with his long, bony fingers. He didn’t dare tell his parents that he was happy here in their small house among his books and sheet music. Ultimately, it was his job and his alone to improve his family’s status. He was required to marry well so he could take care of them… even though the lingering thoughts of it made him feel ill.
He sighed heavily and closed up the piano again, standing and crossing the small room in two long strides. He pulled his jacket off the coat rack and shrugged into it before calling out to his mom. “Mum! I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in time for dinner!” He ducked out of the house before he could hear her reply. He just needed a few brief, quiet moments to himself.
It was getting dark enough for the street lamps to flicker on. They cast their eerie glows every few feet, throwing his shadow over the concrete as he walked. A soft breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and bushes around him. He paused to listen as a melody began to piece itself together in his head. He continued to walk, humming as he went. He ended up at the park, kicking gravel along the path. He only stopped when he reached the fountain in the middle of the park; crouching to pick up one of the smooth, flat, stones at his feet. He couldn’t justify throwing pocket change in the water for something as frivolous as a wish so a path stone would have to do. He turned his back and tossed the pebble over his shoulder. It landed in the water with a quiet splash. Only then did he close his eyes and make a wish.
“I wish… for what is best for me…” he said softly. Perhaps that was too vague but he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he wanted. If the universe didn’t know he definitely didn’t. He dusted his hands off on his jeans and headed home in the glooming dark. He felt better now, more at ease. He wouldn’t let the prospect of marriage worry him. Whatever happened, he’d be okay.
He made it back to the little house on the corner and was greeted by a cacophony of sounds in greeting. He was home. THIS was home, even when it was sometimes overwhelming. “Yes, mum! I’m back!”