The Scarlatti TIlt

Ayelet Schrek

Ms. Rubin A block

The Scarlatti Tilt

September 4, 2009

Tea and Revolvers

“It’s very hard to live in a studio apartment in San Jose with a man who’s learning the violin.” That’s what she told the police when she handed them the empty revolver. As she gave it to them, Carla shook her head. “Alas, he didn’t deserve it, but I can’t say I’m upset that I’ll never have to hear him play that blasted instrument again. Would either of you like some tea?”

The two policemen looked at each other incredulously. “I think you’d better give us your story, ma’am,” one of them said.

“From the top,” the other one added.

“Very well,” she sighed, putting down the kettle, and gesturing towards her kitchen table. “Sit please.

“It really begins about fifteen years ago, when I was in high school. We were together, you know. At the same school I mean. Not together, as in dating. That was part of the problem. You see, he was in love with me, absolutely devoted. He was always buying me things, presents, flowers. I remember one day I opened my locker to find a whole bouquet of white lilies. They’re my favorites, you know. To this day, I still don’t know how he knew they were, it’s not like we talked back then or anything. You see, I was the popular girl, the one who everyone wanted to know, the one who’s opinion counted more than any other’s. Boy, I sound like such a narcissist. I’m not, really. And he was always the awkward, smart-mouthed, generally despised little kid. He’s little you see. Not physically, but age-wise. He’s quite smart, and so he skipped a few grades, which only made everyone despise him even more.

“Yes, he was absolutely devoted. I never noticed him until college, which we both attended together. Well, except the things I couldn’t ignore, like the flowers and such. But for the most part he was just a flattering nuisance, you know what I mean?”

“Ma’am, if you’d care to hurry up…”

“Right, of course, I apologize. So anyway, in college I began to notice him, because he grew up quite a bit, didn’t he. He stopped being such a smart-alec, and, well, you saw him, he obviously grew quite attractive…”

“Ma’am. We haven’t got all day. Get to the point.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” she asked innocently. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Oh no, please don’t rush me. You need to understand everything that happened leading up to all this. It’s important.”

The policemen exchanged a second incredulous look, but neither of them spoke, which was enough of a yes for Carla. She continued, her words coming quicker, although whether this was because she was trying to comply with the policemen’s wish, or simply because she was reaching an exciting part of her story, no one was to know.

“Anyway, so in college we got together. I majored in communications, he in music, of all things. Apparently he played like five different instruments I never knew about. We had quite a good time in college, and we decided to move in together after graduation.”

“Ma’am, could you please just tell us where the violin fits into all of this?”

“Yes, I was just getting there. So as I said, he knew dozens of instruments, but he didn’t know the violin, and of course, he was determined to learn. And here’s the thing. He couldn’t do it. Play, I mean. He was downright awful. Every day I’d come home from work—I work in public relations, you know—and I’d be tired, and all I’d want was just a little peace, and he would be playing that damned violin, and playing it badly. It was the thing of nightmares, honestly. And one day—oh, we keep a revolver in the house, by the way, in case of burglars, and one day, he had just finished playing, and I was just so angry, you know? And the revolver was just lying there...I wasn’t really thinking about it, the next second the gun was in my hands, and then I was in the bedroom…and then I shot, two, three, until all the shots were gone. I barely even realized I had done it.”

The policemen waited, but it appeared Carla had nothing more to say.

“So you confess? You admit you’re guilty?”

“Oh, but of course. I would never lie. Although I think guilty is a bit harsh.”

“Ma’am, you shot a violin six times with a revolver. That in and of it’s self is not such a heinous crime, but it shows you have a lot of anger, and could be a president to worse crimes in the future. Who knows, next time it could be your boyfriend, not the violin.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m quite sure he’ll never be playing that particular instrument again.”

The policemen looked at each other once again with a look of incredulity, this time mingled with exasperation.

“Well, your boyfriend is taking you to court for a restraining order. Would you like a ride?”

“You sure you wouldn’t like some tea?’

“Just get in the car,” one of the policemen murmured, half to himself.

After they had dropped Carla off at the court building, one of the policemen turned to the other. “I think we deserve a coffee break, don’t you?”

“Definitely. How ever did that woman get a degree in communications?”