By the time I entered seventh grade he was an expert in all
things musical. He could sit down at the piano and play by ear any
piece of music he heard. He sang beautifully, and his parents
encouraged him to take up an instrument in the school band. He
chose the clarinet.
The instrument was much different than playing the piano and held a
distinct advantage over his attempts to play the guitar: it fit his
hands. For no matter how much he tried to finger chords, the fact
was this: his fingers were too short. He really wanted to play the
guitar, and would listen for hours to guitarists on the radio, but
couldn’t get past his physical limitation.
The clarinet was hardly a challenge for him, it seemed nothing was,
and he took to it very quickly. Before long, the other kids in the
band would stop when he played and just listen. His technique was
mesmerizing. When the occasional brave soul chose to challenge him
to a playing contest, I would pretend that he was not good enough,
and expressed fear of losing. But in the end, he would play
perfectly, and the challenger would sulk away, much like a dog with
his tail between his legs.
I’s band teacher entered him in competition after competition and
he always walked away with the first prize, and usually a sizable
cash prize as well, generally earmarked for the school. The I Mall
Appreciation Trophy Cabinet was dedicated in his honor just to hold
the many awards he brought home.
But while his teacher was proud, I’s new attitude of superiority
began to alienate him from his friends. I was certain it was simple
jealousy and he ignored it. If they couldn’t handle his greatness,
then that was their problem.
While I thought it was their problem, he didn’t realize that
loneliness was beginning to take its toll on him. When he got home
from school, he went right into his room, turned on the radio and
worked on his homework, and then he practiced on the clarinet, and
occasionally would compose some music on the piano.
Henry and Juliette were concerned about the changes they’d seen in
I. They spoke to Dr. Orson about it.
“He’s at the age where all kids are beginning to change, “ he
advised. “This is something he’ll grow out of in time.”
Henry accepted the doctor’s assessment, but Juliette was not so
sure.
“I’ve seen him come home, day after day, and he just sits in his
room and sulks,” Juliette explained. “It’s not healthy for him to
be so isolated all the time.”
Dr. Orson offered yet another assessment. “Your long separation
four years ago may have finally taken a toll on him as well. There
is likely some deep seated resentment left over from that
experience, possibly towards the both of you.”
“But we’ve given him everything,” Henry protested. “All his needs
have been met, we revealed his ‘destiny,’ we provided him a way to
experience it through his clarinet. What more?”
“Do you spend time with him?” Dr. Orson probed.
“Of course we do,” Juliette was upset at the implication of the
doctor’s statement. “He always has our full attention. Both Henry
and I spend as much time as possible with him.”
“Perhaps, then, it’s the opposite,” the Doctor explained. “He’s
retreating to his room because otherwise he does not have any
personal space of his own. Maybe you need to back off a little on
the attention, and the situation will improve.”
Juliette was taken aback. “I don’t think I can do that. I vowed at
his birth that I would always be there for him. I don’t want to see
a time come were he feels he has to come to me pleading for
attention.”
“But you must,” the doctor advised. “The consequences are
unpredictable, but the pattern does seem to be established for
failure.”
“Failure?” Henry was surprised at the seriousness of the doctor’s
statement. “He can’t fail. He’s the best there is!”
“I’m sure you’re proud of your son’s accomplishments, but you must
not let them take over his life. He must have balance.”
“And how do we do that?” Henry asked.
“Get him involved in sports, help him to met other kids, find him a
new hobby. Music can’t be his whole life.”
Henry agreed that they would give it a try. Juliette secretly kept
it to herself that she thought the doctor was a quack.