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The Goldberg Variations
The Goldberg Variations
The Goldberg Variations
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The Goldberg Variations

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Our lives could go in many possible directions.

What if we had taken that turn? Or this other fork in the road; said that one thing; or learned to hold our tongue and so not have to wish we could un-say it.

Meet Anna and Ruth Goldberg, again and again, through many of the possible relationships between these women, mother and daughter.

Bracketed by the same story, told once from Anna's perspective and then Ruth's, we see thirty glimpses of how these women might interact in a kaleidoscope of different worlds and different situations. Magic; the hard realities of life; death; birth; love; loss; all the way to the city at the end of time itself.

Variations on the theme of relationship between these two Goldbergs.

The Goldberg Variations.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherKevin Mackey
Release dateDec 8, 2014
ISBN9781311094544
The Goldberg Variations
Author

Kevin Mackey

Kevin J Mackey is native Irish, moved first to the far drier climate of the San Francisco Bay Area, and now lives in Kansas City, MO. He reads widely — "whatever may be found between book covers" — but has a particular fondness for science fiction and poetry. He has had short stories and poetry published since 2010 both on-line and on paper. He is seldom without his camera phone and tweets almost exclusively in Haiku. His collection of photographs and haiku "Haiku - Through a Lens" is available online. Kevin blogs from time to time at http://kjmackey.blogspot.com Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/kevinjmackey

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    Book preview

    The Goldberg Variations - Kevin Mackey

    Introduction

    Our lives could go in many possible directions.

    The idea of a theme and variations is a well-known one in many styles of music. Beethoven's 12 variations on a theme by Mozart, Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a theme by Paganini, Bach's Goldberg Variations, which served as a template for this set of stories, all show this approach in action.

    Jazz is often a set of improvisations on a theme, with the musicians taking turns playing with the melody.

    Much of Delta Blues could be regarded as variations on a singular theme, to great effect.

    The work now in your hands introduces you to Anna and Ruth Goldberg, mother and daughter. The initial story is told from Anna's viewpoint. Following Bach's structure we meet Anna and Ruth again at the end of the variations, in the same story, this time told by Ruth.

    In between, the two women—from a long line of strong women—take us along the many paths, through the many possibilities, their lives, their relationship, could possibly go. Here you'll find magic, the hard realities of life, death, birth, love, loss, all the way to the end of time itself.

    I hope you enjoy these variations on the theme of relationship.

    KjM

    Kevin J Mackey

    Kansas City

    December 2014

    AN UNBROKEN CHAIN

    It sounds like a dirge, I said.

    My Ruth, she laughed at me, reaching for her phone.

    It's not a dirge, Mom, she said, it's a fugue.

    She glanced at the phone. Oh, it's Jenna. I've gotta take this. You mind?

    I shook my head. No, no. You go ahead.

    She had answered already, turning slightly away from me.

    When did you get so grown up? I asked silently. There she was, so much a grown woman, dark hair swept back from darker eyes. Face alive as she talked with her college friend.

    I caught a glimpse of myself in a store mirror. When did you get so old? I swept my hand through my own dark hair. I didn't look closer. I already knew where the gray was hiding.

    Ruth chatted on. I listened, more to the sounds than the words. You hear more that way. Warm tones. They were close, this Jenna and my Ruth. Making plans for when she returned after the break.

    I stepped away, from Ruth, from the mirror. I didn't want either of us to see the expression I felt on my face. I hoped this Jenna didn't give Ruth any ideas.

    I laughed quietly. Ideas? You think you could prevent her having ideas?

    I could hear my own Mother's voice in my head. Probably as she heard her own in hers. And all the way back, daughter to mother, back to Eve herself.

    I looked back at my Ruth's bright, quick face. Her free hand moved as she talked, eyes alive with intelligence and fun.

    I fingered a shawl draped over a mannequin's shoulder. A widow's shawl. I nodded.

    Perfect for me. I pulled it off the mannequin and slipped it over my shoulders.

    Bye Jenna, I heard as Ruth finished her call. She turned to me just as I drew myself up and I threw the right end of the shawl dramatically over my left shoulder.

    Oh Mom, she said. That's perfect for you.

    I smiled, took her face in my hands and kissed her forehead. She looked at me, her eyes seeking mine.

    We Goldbergs come from a long line of strong women, Ruth. I cannot put into words how proud I am of you.

    I patted her arm as I linked it in mine. Now, we must buy something special for when you return to your friend Jenna.

    With these words I set my daughter on her way to her future.

    A GENERATION APART

    The front door slammed.

    I've told you before, don't slam—

    Sorry, said Ruth, it's windy out. If all the windows weren't open...

    I turned to her, brushing my gray-streaked hair out of my eyes.

    You're not in your fancy air-conditioned college—

    Don't I know it, she said, tossing her coat on the kitchen table and opening the fridge door.

    Don't eat too much, I said automatically, you'll spoil your dinner.

    Ruth took a soda can from the fridge and stood up. Light shone on dark, dark hair. Her eyes were as dark.

    Yeah, well, she said, I think I'm going out with friends. Jenna—

    I let out an exasperated sound. I just couldn't help it.

    It would've been nice to let me know earlier. Who is this Jenna anyway? And where will you be going?

    Ruth slammed the fridge door.

    I didn't know earlier. Anyway, Jenna's at school with me. You'd know if you ever listened.

    Don't talk to me like that, young lady.

    Then don't treat me like a child, she retorted. I've grown up. You need to learn to deal with it.

    I nodded. I can see you're all grown up. In fact— I eyed the neckline of her top, —the whole world can see how grown up you are.

    It was Ruth's turn to make an exasperated sound. Oh Mom, like the world doesn't already know women have breasts.

    If they didn't, they do now.

    I've seen photos of you when you were young, Ruth said. She glanced down where the tops of her breasts were showing. This is nothing compared to some dresses you wore. When did you get so old?

    I opened my mouth to answer, but her phone rang.

    That sounds like a dirge, I said.

    Then I'll play it at your funeral. Ruth answered the phone. Oh hi Jenna. Just a sec... She walked out of the kitchen.

    When did I get so old? Ha! When did I become my mother? She and I used to argue like this. And probably she with her mother. Back all the way to Eve?

    Ruth and I are too much alike. We are sisters a generation apart. There's so little of her father in her, and he's dead a long time.

    It's been so lonely, lonelier still since she left for college.

    I gotta go. I'm meeting Jenna, Ruth said as I heard her heading for the door.

    Don't slam— I began.

    The front door slammed.

    A HOUSE DIVIDED

    Are you going to be a dancer?

    Anna winced as a heel, or maybe an elbow, bumped against her ribs.

    She leaned forward, driving her bow across the

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