CH 70

Name:My Beloved Oppressor Author:
It was clear that it was all pointless now. But even in the calm emptiness, the emotional byproduct went up and down, shaking like dust.

Concluding Annette’s hesitation simply, he asked.

“Is there anything else you need to decipher?”

“I’m not quite sure yet.”

“If there are parts that you need to play directly, I’ll prepare it.”

“Prepare……?”

Annette muttered curiously. Heiner answered simply, as if asking the obvious.

“Piano.”

“Ah.”

Annette understood his words belatedly. She had been lost in other thoughts for a moment and couldn’t think straight.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll just look at the sheet music……”

Annette trailed off. It was because she wasn’t sure.

She could analogize all the notes by just looking at the sheet music, but she had been away from it for so long that she might miss some parts. And if she actually played it, she might discover a part where the sound was strange.

Heiner, who was staring at the hesitant Annette, suggested it.

“Just to be sure, why don’t you try it? There’s a piano in a nearby church………. If only you’re willing.”

Indeed, his words were valid. She thought it was better to try than not to try. The problem was that she wasn’t sure she could …… play the piano.

It had been a long time since she last played the piano. Running out of the party where Felix Kafka was was the last failure she could remember.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t get the words out that she couldn’t play the piano at all in front of him.

The safety of her country and the lives of many others were at stake. In such a situation, it didn’t make sense to make excuses like that.

She seemed to wonder what the problem was. Because she herself thought so.

“…yes, I’d love to.”

Annette finally answered with a smile.

***

That afternoon, Annette and Heiner traveled in a military vehicle to a nearby church. All the windows of the car were covered with blackout curtains.

The vehicle rattled as it went. In the dark car, the two sat at a distance from each other on the edge of their seats.

Annette had her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes silently downcast.

She could not look out the window, so there was nothing to do but to dabble in her thoughts. It felt as if it had been a very long time since she had been to church.

In fact, she had only skipped two Sundays.

It was really strange.

She hadn’t been to church for years since the revolution, and yet her heart was so uneasy just because she had skipped only twice.

As if looking into her, Heiner suddenly asked.

“You’ve been attending church after a long time, haven’t you?”

“…… huh?”

“Here.”

“Ah, yes. Every week ……”

“Even in Cynthia?”

“No, I rarely went out in Cynthia.”

“Then why did you start going to church again from here? You haven’t been attending for a while.”

Annette hesitated for a moment. Heiner added casually.

“I thought you were indifferent.”

“I was indifferent. Well, It’s not like I’m religious again.”

“Just as atheist soldiers go to church on the battlefield, so do you?”

“It think so. I need a place to talk, so…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just everything.”

“Then tell me.”

“Huh?”

“All of it.”

At that moment, Annette looked at him in bewilderment. Heiner had a thoughtful look on his face.

“Why?”

“You said you needed a place to talk.”

“It’s not Your Excellency.”

Why not me?”

Speechless, Annette bit her lips.

‘What is he talking about…..?’

She didn’t know what the hell this conversation was about. She crossed her arms and tilted her head.

“Your Excellency, do you tell me everything?”

“I am trying to talk to you.”

Heiner spoke plainly. It was Annette who was surprised by the sudden and frank answer. She murmured 

uncomfortably.

“… How many times have our conversations been honest.”

It wasn’t how much they talked that mattered. It was how they interacted.

In this relationship, where there was no trust in each other and no future, any dialogue was futile. He and she were just too busy hiding the depths of their hearts.

After a while, the car gradually came to a stop. They got out of the car in silence. The sun was gradually setting in the horizon.

“The interior is empty.”

Heiner said as they entered the entrance. Annette nodded quietly.

He was right, the church was empty. She stepped into the quiet chapel.

Stained glass windows filled both sides of the chapel. The multicolored glasses decorated with torchlight at the bottom gave off a sacred and noble atmosphere in the slanting afternoon light.

Annette walked across the center to the piano. The black lid opened to reveal a cold keyboard.

After staring at the keys for a moment as if unfamiliar with them, Annette placed the sheet music on the stand. Then she pulled out a chair and sat down.

Heiner approached her and leaned against the chapel chair just in front of the piano. No words were exchanged between them.

Annette stared at the first page of the paper. Her hands were still on her lap. She looked down at the keys.

She dropped her eyes and raised them again.

Everything was still familiar, like an old habit.

She pressed the keys even before she could speak properly. Piano was her first language. There was a piano in every moment of her life.

She had practiced every day, felt her talent was a barrier, failed, overcame it through bloody efforts, failed again, and still put her hand on the keyboard again hundreds and  thousands of times.

One could say that she was crazy.

She knew how blessed she looked to live a life without any lack of anything, and yet she was unhappy at the lack of progress in her piano skills.

But for Annette at least, the piano was the eternal unrequited love, something she could never fully have. And now she couldn’t even reach it anymore.

Annette took shallow breaths as she closed her eyes. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Finally she softly opened her mouth.

“I actually can’t play the piano. Not at all.

“…”

“It’s been a long time since I did.”

She could feel his eyes touching her profile. Heiner spoke after a while.

“… .Since the revolution, I have never heard the sound of a piano in the house.”

I’m surprised you know that, Annette thought with no emotion.

“Since that time?”

“You knew it.”

“Even at the party where Felix Kafka was, you couldn’t play the piano.”

“If you knew, why did you bring me here?”

“Because things weren’t looking good at the time, and I thought it might be because you were in front of people…….”

At the time, people brought Annette up on stage to ridicule her. Of course, the situation itself was difficult. But that was not the reason.

“No.”

Annette turned her head to him and said,

“I just can’t play.”

“May I ask why?”

“……There are many things. I was playing the piano when the revolutionary army rushed into the practice room, and I even saw with both eyes that my father was shot dead at the time.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she were touching an old scar.

“Your Excellency said my talent and hard work were real, but well, people didn’t think so. Everything that I had achieved was denied and crumbled.”

“….”

“And now I can’t play. I came here to try it because it’s important, but I’m sorry I can’t help you. I think you should leave the playing to someone else.”

In the insignificant confession, she felt anew that many emotions had been volatilized during the time that had passed.

She was immature with her emotions until she ran away from the party. It was very painful and hard and unbearable, so she fled.

For a very long time.

So far.

After several seasons gone, she finally saw the fading traces. Her empty hands with nothing left. And her worn-out, familiar self.

“I really…”

Heiner suddenly murmured in a low lament.

“…I guess I took everything from you.”

He didn’t look at all happy as he said this. He looked a little empty, a little bitter.

“Do you think so?” Annette asked with a faint smile.

She couldn’t say that it was all Heiner’s fault. He initiated it, he sidelined it, but conclusively all of this would 

have happened anyway.

But there was no denying that he was there every moment of that hell.

“Then you must be satisfied. That was your goal, wasn’t it?” (A)

“…”

“I am not trying to be bitter. Just wondering.” (A)

Her tone was refreshingly light. Heiner stared at her, standing in the distance as if a door had closed in front of him.