Everybody, Always

perfectly curled like an American bald eagle. He even crossed his hands
over each other as he played, like they do in the movies. As he hit the last
chord, he lifted both clawed hands over his head. He stayed in that pose
for an oddly long time as the room exploded in applause. Greatness had
just arrived on earth—it was Greg.
It was my turn next. I walked onstage in checkered pants and an itchy
sweater my mom bought for me. I looked like Mr. Rogers. I glanced up at
the audience members, who were leaning forward with great anticipation
after Greg’s epic performance. Then I looked down at the keys. There
were so many of them. I didn’t remember whether I was supposed to start
on the black ones or the white ones, so I started on both and fumbled my
way through the song. It was truly awful. There was no lighthouse. There
was no window.
My rendition was full of mistakes, awkward pauses, and do-overs. It
took me twice as long to finish the song as it had taken Greg. Instead of
finishing with clawed fingers over my head, I plunked my forehead on the
keys, my arms hanging limp, and I sobbed. I was so ashamed. Charlie
Brown couldn’t have looked more pitiful. A few people clapped to break
the awkward silence as I walked offstage with my head hung low. I was
humiliated. That was the day I quit playing piano.
Years later, in college, I lived in a dorm across from the music
building. There was a big auditorium and a black grand piano on the
stage. I passed by the auditorium several times each day on my way to
and from classes. Sometimes I’d peek inside to see if anyone was playing
the grand piano, but nobody ever was. Seeing the piano brought back
painful memories of my embarrassing recital from so many years before.
To me, it looked like a hearse with white and black keys. It reminded me
of the day when I failed in front of everyone.
One day, for no particular reason, I pushed open the door to the
auditorium, walked down the aisle between hundreds of empty red velvet
seats, got on the stage, and sat at the piano. I didn’t have on checkered
pants or a cardigan sweater, but I immediately felt like I was that same