Professor Colin Barrett’s office is in the basement floor of Rischman House, an early 1900’s style place that was seized by the college years ago and turned into  a series of small confining office for faculty. The house hadn’t been properly wired for heat, most of the door stuck on a regular basis and any noise from the outside easily found its way in. 

Colin Barrett hadn’t exactly done anything to be banished this far away, even though his best student will never bring in as much donor money as the worst business student. Still, Eastham College had recently built a new Arts and Humanities complex just across the bridge, where most of Colin’s faculty had readily departed during the summer semester.  The building had, among its many assets, central heating, a small café and elevators that worked.

Upstairs, an already frustrated student was learning about the deficiencies of Rischman House elevators. The boy stared in fear as  the elevator doors closed halfway and then stopped. He was slim, and knew if worse came to worse he could slip through the crack left and take the stairs. But, that would mean leaving the violin—the exact reason he came to this building---trapped in the elevator.

With his heart pounding and the anxiety that came with claustrophobia, he pushed the open door button three times before the doors creaked open and he opted for the four flights of stairs to the basement office.  The staircase in Rischman Hall was confined and small,   the violin case bumping against his denim leg the whole way down.

 Following the maze of the old building, he come to Colin’s Barrett’s office within minutes. The professor kept the his door is shut, but the  crackling sound of Bach coming out of his tape player  served as the giveaway he is in there.  Colin, being in his late 30’s was  kind of an nostalgic soul, all the music he loves is free on the Internet, but he prefers to listen to it the ‘old fashioned way’, as his students called it.

The student  knocks loudly, as to be heard over the music and when Colin opens the door he smile when he sees who has come to visit him.

The smile turns into guilt in the students eyes.

“Jonah,” Colin says swinging the creaky door open to let him in.

The office is surprisingly roomy for such a cramped house and an unregulated percolator sitting next to his desk. Colin keeps the contraband so he can easily drink his hellish tea concoctions for his many imagined ailments.

“Sorry I’m late. I had some trouble finding you.” Jonah admits.

The sign for Rischman had been plucked from the lawn outside the house afterall, not to mention that you had to be in the know that the front door was sealed and the only entrance was in the backdoor.

“Yeah, they don’t make  it easy.” Colin agrees  turning down the music.

“Why didn’t they move you into the new building ?,” Jonah asks.

“I asked to stay.” He replies proudly. “This place used to be a church, back in the old days, I kind of like the spiritualness of it. Are you religious, Jonah ?”

“I’m spiritual, I guess.” Jonah replies.

 Despite his mother being from a deeply Catholic family, Jonah  been to church exactly six times in his 18 years of life. That number also coorelated with the number of funerals he’d been to. Still, in those six times it had always felt like more than ceremony, he could feel something there.

“That’s a good answer,” Colin says. “We all gotta believe in something.”

“I believe in a lot of things,” Jonah agrees.

“That’s good,” Colin compliments him again.

After a beat, Jonah thinks it’s time to face the music. The pun actually makes him smile.

“Actually, there is one thing I don’t believe in,” Jonah begins

“Mmhm ?,” Colin encourages, never breaking eye contact as he adds sugar to his tea.

 “I don’t believe I’m very good at the violin,” Jonah  admits as his eyes find a birthday card on Colin’s desk to concentrate on. The birthday card has a treble clef on the front and says Wishing you a treble-free year

“I think I’m going to drop your class,” Jonah finishes.

Jonah had expected the professor, he’d begged so badly to get teach him  get mad at him.  But what he says is even worse.

“I’m really disappointed.”

“I know, I’m sorry--,”

“Well, I appreciate you at least coming down here to talk to me.” Colin interjects

“I jusr didn’t want to not show up after you did all that work to get me in your class,” Jonah rambles.
“ I mean,  I learned a lot and I thought it could be my thing, but I’m just not sure I’m good enough or that I take music that seriously and I didn’t want to waste your time anymore, so-- “

“You were never wasting my time.”

“Right. Anyway I bought this violin specifically for your class and I thought since I won’t be using it, I thought you’d have more use for it than I would. Give it to another student or sell it or something…”

 He places the smooth black case on his desk and pop open the lid for Colin to see it’s still in pretty pristine condition. If possible, the professor looks even more disappointed.

“ That’s very kind. But, I  think you should keep it. It’s already been measured for you.”

“I just don’t really see  myself taking more classes--,”

“You know you don’t have to take a class or master an instrument to play it. You are allowed to just play.”

A look crossed Jonah’s slim features that told Colin the student had never considered this possibility.  It was true, Jonah wasn’t his best student. Which was fine since, Jonah  wasn’t even studying in the music school, he had just joined Colin’s class to help with his own mastery.  Which had always struck Colin as odd, but he wasn’t one to turn away a student. Especially not that particular student.

Jonah wordlessly closed the case and in his good nature, Colin offered him some tea. This afternoon’s tea was a custom mix of  bark, hibiscus and lemon zest . He explained the  health benefits of each as  he poured it into a Styrofoam cup.

 Colin is in a chatty mood and Jonah is feeling to guilty to refuse the tea and leave. So, he sits politely listen to Colin’s stories about his latest classes. It’s the kind of awkwardness Jonah associated with having to go to a wedding with a girl you just broke up with, but previously RSVP’d  as a couple.