Strange encounter

 Halfway through my studies, when my enthusiasm for studying had somehow waned, I started taking piano lessons.
I didn't expect any achievements, the main goal was to get acquainted with music more tangibly. I had a lot of time to practice, so I made rapid progress.

During the holidays, I visited my mother in Kielce, where I found a piano at the Provincial Cultural Center so I could also practice.
My hit piece was L. Beethoven's Bagatelle - Für Elise - CLICK.

While playing, I felt someone standing behind me and I stopped playing.
- Nice piece - said the stranger - may I try?
I made room for him.

He looked at the notes and immediately played quite correctly, after a while he started improvising... and that's when I recognised him.
It was probably the 5th grade of primary school. A new student came to our class.
There were only 16 boys in the class, so each addition/departure was a big event.
"New" was not very communicative and rather invisible during lessons and breaks, until one day he noticed an open piano in the general hall, sat down on the edge of a stool and started playing.
I don't remember what it was, probably some popular melody, but he played it completely relaxed, it made an impression.

Step by step, we learned that his parents had transferred him to our private school because he had been expelled from the TPD school (Society of Friends of Children). The reason for the expulsion... we had to wait for an explanation, finally he said - he played Red Poppies at Monte Cassino * on the piano.
Despite our requests, he did not play this melody for us.

One day I invited him and another friend to my house for after-school fun - a game of knucklebones, tin soldiers, coin football.
Demonstration of knucklebones  HERE.

The games were going sluggishly, I don't know what came to my mind, but at some point I boasted that I had a fountain pen with a gold nib in my desk drawer.
It was a gift from my American aunt. My mother immediately sold these types of gifts because these were our priorities.

My friends' visit was coming to an end. Since we washed our hands during the visit (in a bowl because we didn't have a bathroom), I poured water from the bucket into the toilet in the corridor and took them to the street.

When my mother returned from work, I told her about the visit.
My mother immediately looked into the drawer in my table - there was no fountain pen.

Complete consternation - mine - such cool friends, mother's - how to survive until the end of the month.
She wrote a letter to my class teacher asking for clarification.
The teacher was nervous, during a long break she asked the three of us into the staff room and asked me to report the event.
None of my friends confessed.
- When Leszek left with the bucket, you said - "now we can nick something from him" - a "pianist" broke the silence.
- I said it and you nicked - the accused replied.
- I didn't nick anything - was the "pianist's" response
The teacher looked at us helplessly - if no one confesses, I will have to report it to the teachers' council - she commented and ended the meeting.

During the next break, the "pianist" dragged me to a corner - Leszek, I did it, I don't know what came over me, just please don't tell anyone, I will return the pen to you tomorrow.
This confession moved me so much that I wanted to take him in my arms.
At the next opportunity, I approached the teacher and said that the perpetrator had confessed, the case is over, don't tell anyone about it.

The next day - the "pianist" did not come to school. For me it was quite a shock.
The mother wrote another letter to the teacher - the end of the school year was approaching, so she suggested that the perpetrator should not be issued a school certificate.

During the break, the teacher went to the office, and after a while she came back with an uncertain face - his mother was at school yesterday, she said that they were moving somewhere and took her son's school certificate.
Another shock - how to tell my mother about this?

I took a closer look at the person who joined me.
I had no doubts - it was HIM.
Did he recognize me?
We had both changed a lot, I wouldn't have recognized him in a crowd, but I was sure he recognized me. It seemed to me that from time to time he gave me an inquisitive look and a smile - I don't know - mocking or controlling.

I felt so helpless.

Today's illustration - a house in the middle of nowhere.

* Red Poppies at Monte Cassino - a Polish patriotic song commemorating a victory in a very important battle in WWII, In Communist Poland participation of Polish Army under British command in WWII was quite inconvenient subject.
Song HERE.