Tina Shee-Cappieri

Childhood Storms

It was on the stormy nights that it happened. Me as a child scared in my bed while the wind howled around the chimneys and whined through the trees with a desolate wail.
We lived in the country far from the nearest town of Clonmel and the isolation was most obvious when we were at the mercy of the elements during a storm. The wind would roar up the valley and from time to time you would hear the crash of a tree falling or slates being ripped off the roof. But most frightening of all was the music. During a particularly strong gust of wind there was the sound of strings being played, discordant and unearthly. This sound seemed to come from the ruin at the side of the house.
Let me explain. One wing of the house had fallen into disrepair. We called it the ruin. One room was used as a junk room. My brothers and I were allowed to explore it once a year. It was full of books, furniture, ornaments, paintings, all sorts of things, and every thing was covered with cobwebs and there was an atmospheric smell of damp. We were always frightened there, but it was thrilling too.
Beyond this was a door leading to another room. It was tied up with string. This door was never opened. We were told it led to a room where the ceiling had fallen in. To us kids it represented the darkest most frightening mysteries. Even from the outside you could not see into this room as the windows were covered with ivy. and even on a summers day this wing of the house was shrouded in the shadows of nearby trees.
But it was on stormy nights that the most sinister thing seemed to happen there – music came from the room. I asked my parents about it. They were used to it and it didn’t seem to bother them as their bedroom was further away. I persisted with my questions and my father said it was the sound of the wind blowing on the old piano there. This explanation satisfied me until the next time there was a storm. I listened to the sounds – like an out of tune harp being played by a madman. It sounded nothing like the piano in the living room, which I tried to play from time to time, my fingers too small for the keys.
After more storms and nights of terror, my father decided to cut away the ivy from the window of the ruin, to let me see for myself.
And there sure enough was an old piano in the corner. The wooden front had disappeared and the keys lay broken on the ground, but the frame was still there with most of the strings still attached. My father reached in his hand and strummed the strings and there it was – the sound I had heard during the storms. When the wind was strong it caused the strings to vibrate and play music.
Now the ruin with the piano has been transformed into a bright sunny kitchen, the darkness all gone.
But sometimes when I listen to modern classical music I am reminded of the discordant sounds of that piano and I feel an echo of the old fear from the past.

 

The Message I Never Got

It all started that weekend in Killarney. I went there with my two friends Maria and Janet. Maria is single like me and Janet had been having a difficult time with her partner, so we had organized the weekend to cheer her up and to take her mind off her problems.

It was a wonderful weekend. We took full advantage of the hotel, and swam and had a sauna on the Saturday morning. In the afternoon someone suggested the usual tourist thing and so we took a ride on a jaunting car. The driver was a very nice local man. He kept us entertained with stories about the tourists he had met and we never stopped laughing. On Saturday night we went to a pub where we met a gang from Galway. They were in great form and welcomed us into their group. One of them, Paul, with vivid blue eyes and a craggy face, really attracted me.

We found ourselves together at the bar a few times and I welcomed the opportunity to get to know him better, and found that we had a lot of common interests. In fact once started we couldn’t stop talking and by closing time we were sitting together totally oblivious to the others – almost totally oblivious. I was still looking out for Janet but she was having a great time so I stopped worrying and took Paul up on his offer to walk down and see what the lake looked like by moonlight.

We walked a long way and got caught up in the beauty and magic of the scene. The reflection of the moonlight on the water and the stillness of the trees in the distance had a profound effect on my mood. They created an atmosphere that was romantic and full of mystery. As if reading my mind Paul drew me into his arms and kissed me. It was electric. The chemistry between us was so strong that it was a huge struggle to put on the brakes and not let things get out of hand. (I’ve got very strict rules for myself for first nights.) So he eventually walked me back to the hotel and we planned to meet for lunch the next day.

Janet and Maria came along. They wanted to check him out. I protested but they insisted so much that I had to give in. They reminded me that my choice of boyfriends had been fairly disastrous up until now. But it all went well. We ate out of doors in the bright sunshine The food was delicious and the conversation was relaxed and full of banter and a bit mad.
Towards the end of the meal Paul asked me for my mobile number. Then Maria piped up “Why don’t you take my number too”, and not wanting to be left out, Janet said the same thing. So in keeping with the daftness of the conversation, (You know the type I mean), Paul humoured everyone, and put the three numbers into his phone. It was soon time to leave and Paul repeated that he would be in touch with me soon.

Back at work I waited and waited for a phone call or txt from him, but sadly, none came. The weeks went by and nothing happened and I reluctantly realized that I would just have to put him out of my mind. Also I was busy trying to support Janet. Her partner Tony and herself had separated leaving her with two young kids. He had always been suspicious of her and never trusted her with other men. She knew he had had a bad experience in his last serious relationship so she tried to make allowances. But her weekend away had triggered his fears, and a few days later as they were having an argument about this she got a txt message. It said “Hi sexy, remember me. Got to see you soon.” There was no name. Janet blushed and tried to hide her phone, but Tony noticed her consternation and insisted on having a look.

It was as if a bomb had been dropped between them. There was silence for a moment – then all hell broke loose. Cups plates, saucepans, some of her collection of cute old-fashioned teapots, a chair too, everything flew through the air and smashed against the far wall. Harsh bitter words were said and as Janet once again insisted tearfully that she had no idea who had sent her the txt, Tony saw the whole thing as evidence of what he had long suspected. He packed a bag, called a taxi and was gone, leaving her emotionally shattered, to feed the kids and put them to bed and pretend that everything was ok.

The next few weeks were harrowing for her. Marie and I and her other friends stayed as close to her as possible and helped out with the kids but we could do nothing to allay the sense of loss she was experiencing. She got a few more similar txts but deleted them in disgust. For some reason she kept the original one. Tony got a new flat and collected the rest of his things.

One night, about a month later I sat with Janet at her kitchen table when the kids were asleep. The room seemed different now. The windows still had their bright cosy curtains in yellow and pinks, and the wooden dresser still had the yellow egg cups I’d always loved and many of the teapots had survived, but the comfortable homely atmosphere had gone. There was a coldness, an edgy feel to the kitchen now. We opened a bottle of wine and the conversation drifted back to the txt message. She still couldn’t understand it. She hadn’t really flirted with anyone for years. Suddenly I had a brainwave. I suggested to Janet that she should ring the number that the message had come from and confront the person who had sent it. At least then she would know for sure that it had been a mistake. She agreed wondering why she hadn’t thought of that before. But she didn’t have the courage to do it then. “Why don’t you do it? “She said. So I did and a familiar voice answered. It was Paul from Galway He was delighted to hear my voice. “Why didn’t you answer my txts?” he said “I almost gave up on you”. “ I didn’t get your txts,” I said. You obviously sent them to Janet’s phone by mistake and she thought they were sent to a wrong number. I told him about all that ensued and he promised that he would do what he could to put things right between Janet and Tony.

So he rang Tony and eventually managed to convince him of what had happened. Later that night there was a knock on the door. It was Tony, full of apologies to Janet, so I quickly left them to it and next day Janet told me about it.
He wanted to come back but she amazed herself by not giving in although it was what she wanted most in the world. But she made him see reason. She argued that life would be hell for her as long as he continued to carry around the baggage from his last failed relationship. The only answer was a course of counselling. She would continue to meet him but he couldn’t move back in until he had sorted himself out. Which he did and in time it all worked out.

Two years later on the day of my marriage to Paul, I noticed at one point that Tony and Janet were in a huddle over a mobile phone. Just then Paul got a txt. “ Hi sexy, remember me” He showed it to me and we looked at Tony and Janet who were falling around laughing, so we all laughed together, grateful that things had worked out so well.

I know it can so easily happen. You are writing a txt message and just as you are about to send it your attention gets distracted and you send it to the wrong number without ever realizing it. Or you are putting in new phone numbers and you get the names mixed up. Try to pay more attention in future as you can see from this story that getting someone else’s message can rock someone’s boat and have far reaching consequences.