Helen Backstory: Lisa, Cindy, and the Violin

Helen Back Story:

LISA, CINDY, and the VIOLIN

Kay Hemlock Brown

Copyright © by Kay Hemlock Brown,

Published at Smashwords

Contents

Prologue

The Accident

Cindy

Escape!

The_Violin

Dinner_at_the_Wallaces

Auditions

Clues_to_Cindy’s_Identity

Skating

Figaro

St_Paul

The_Convent

The_Cousins

Grandmother

Helen_on_the_Road

Modern_Violin

Epilogue

Author’s Note:

In this story, there’s an important, but strange, girl, called Cindy, who at first writes to Helen only in verse (poetry). This story was written more than twenty years ago, so I don’t remember my reasoning for having Cindy write that way; it was over the Internet, and that’s what she did. There’s also a lot of messages going back and forth. The poetry is shown in this font, and the messages in this font. Smashwords might not let them remain like that, but here’s hoping!

Prologue

The President of the College which Helen attended was Dr. Robert Wallace. Helen had seldom met the President, but she had attended a concert of a Baroque original instruments consort, a group in which Mrs. Wallace had performed, and absolutely loved the music. Helen had begged Mr. Knowlden, a well-known instrument-maker who was establishing an instrument workshop at the college, to help her build a Viola da Gamba (the bass instrument of a family of viols, instruments that were just going out of fashion in Baroque times). Mr. Knowlden was an experienced performer, and Helen had been learning from him. At this point, all Helen knew about Pat Wallace was from having seen her with the consort, and having been briefly introduced to her as Knowlden’s assistant in the instrument workshop. Helen, a voice major, and a choir scholar, had already gotten interested in Baroque vocal music.

The Accident

One evening in late winter, one of Janet’s students was waiting outside the classroom in which Helen had just finished a final exam.

Hi, Sarah! exclaimed Helen. What’re you doing here?

Oh . . . I just wanted to see you!

Janet taught at the local high school, and this was a twelfth-grader. They had gotten to know each other when Janet and some of her students had caught Chickenpox, which had caused a sensation in the Fall, but Helen had nursed them to health, and everyone was fine. For various reasons, Janet had been encouraged to stay at home rather than at the hospital, and Helen and Janet had accommodated two of the infected students as well, at the request of their parents. Sarah was not one of them; she had begun to visit once the invalids had been certified virus-free, and now it was beginning to appear that Sarah was finding Helen attractive.

At this time, early in Helen’s Junior year, Helen’s relationship with Janet was beginning to deteriorate. Janet was getting tired of Helen’s affairs with several other girls, some from as far away as Argentina and Florida, others from the college itself, and they alternated between white-hot passion some weeks, and almost indifference in other weeks. Janet was studying for her M.A. in mathematics, and mathematics secondary certification, and she was very busy finishing up her degrees, which left Helen looking after the baby. Sarah’s infatuation with Helen was not unwelcome, but it would have been crude to conduct it right under Janet’s nose.

They walked to the cottage where Helen lived with Janet, unofficially called The Little House, just about a mile from the college, while Sarah gradually made it clear that she wanted to be intimate with Helen.

For the entire week, Sarah sneaked out of school and into the college at times at which Helen would be just out of classes, or finishing up a review session, and they gradually began to become more intensely involved.

Are you and Mrs. Kolb still . . . ?

Helen’s face burned. She couldn’t still adjust to the fact that she had promised to be a second parent to Janet’s baby daughter, Elly, when they had heard that the baby’s father had died while on military service in Europe, and Helen and Janet had been fully committed lovers. (They had been lovers even before Janet’s husband Jason had been deployed, and Jason had unhappily accepted their relationship. It had been due to Helen’s amazing power of persuasion that Jason didn’t throw Helen out of the house, or do something even more extreme.) Yes . . . actually, yes. Sarah . . . we can’t get too involved, OK? I have responsibilities.

I know, I know; Baby Elly, huh?

Yes. I can’t play around too much. They were walking home along a seldom-used alley, and Sarah was trying not to stare at Helen’s legs. Helen was tall, now, and her tiny skirts weren’t covering her very well. She still wore the denim skirts she wore when she was in high-school and just about five foot and a half tall. She was taller now, and her legs were longer. She tugged her skirt down.

Can we get together on the weekend, one last time? I’ll leave you alone after that! Please?

Just get together? Helen asked. Sarah nodded. Helen was unhappy. You should get back. What about your folks?

Sarah said that she had told them she would be very late. (In fact, she had told them that Helen was helping her with extra tutoring.)

Helen stopped walking, and said that they should sneak off right then; things would get complicated on the weekend. Right now?

Helen nodded. It was getting cold.

They approached the Little House, and in the alley at the back, Helen’s ancient van was parked carefully, as far off the alley as possible. She opened it up, and pulled on a coat. Sarah had only a sweatshirt on over her T-shirt. She was built like a rock, about Helen’s height, but a lot heavier, and Helen fantasized having Sarah’s weight pressed against Helen. She moistened her lips. She checked her wallet, and saw a couple of twenty-dollar bills. Get in, quick, she said, and pulled out, looking apprehensively at the second-floor windows, to see if she had been noticed.

There was a sleazy motel located on a remote mountain road just outside the town. Sarah walked boldly up to the desk, and asked for a room. The clerk did not even look at them. She slapped a key down on the counter, pushed the form at them, and went back to her TV.

Presently they were in their room. Sarah stripped completely, and in seconds they were at each other. But Helen could not get up the enthusiasm she had felt before; there was Janet, there was Leila, a sweet girl she loved to bits, but who was becoming disillusioned with Helen. Leila had started as a freshman the previous Spring, but transferred to a community college in Florida just so she wouldn’t be in Helen’s face. There were others, and the very fact that Helen was getting turned on by Sarah was making Helen slightly sick. But Helen quickly got herself together; she couldn’t blame Sarah; after all, it takes two, she said to herself. She took over, turned Sarah on her back, and inserting a couple of fingers into her, got her off satisfactorily. Sarah wanted to kiss her, and Helen allowed a few minutes of that, after which they lay side by side, looking at the ceiling, and began to realize that a huge storm had blown up.

Dressing hurriedly, they looked out the window, and gasped.

Forget it; I can’t get the van up that hill in this weather, Helen said. Sarah shook her head, agreeing. The van had rear wheel drive, and bald tires.

Helen heaved a big sigh, and turned to Sarah, and touched her face tenderly. I’m sorry; I was kind of a jerk just now, she said softly. It’s not your fault; I mean . . . I shouldn’t have encouraged you.

Sarah kept her lips tightly closed. Helen looked into her eyes, and could see the words waiting to come out, but they never did. After a while, Sarah said, I could make out with you forever. You’re the queen of love! She blushed bright red, and then was quiet.

Suddenly there was an enormous crash outside, and the girls jerked in shock, and stared at each other.

When Helen and Sarah looked out of their room, they saw