It was in the springtime of her nineteenth year that Tess S'chn T'gai first sensed her awareness growing. The changes came on slowly, and with each passing season, her mind continued to unfold like a rosebud in the sunshine. As if with new eyes, Tess saw her mother—so lively and patient and full of good humor. And her father, a deep river flowing calmly through each day. She felt their concern and she understood the reason for it—that painful difference that had always set her apart and kept them from openly discussing her future. But Tess knew they spoke about it. Now and then she had overheard remarks when they thought she was out of earshot. Once, she had heard Mom crying and Father quietly comforting her. "T'Naisa, she will always be cared for. The family will see to that."

Those words had troubled Tess. No one spoke of her siblings or cousins in those terms. They all had their futures planned, though sometimes the plans changed. They all had careers in mind, exciting jobs, and travel. None of them talked about being "cared for".

One day in her twenty-second year, Tess stood before her bedroom mirror holding a favorite doll, and studied herself as never before. She was as tall as her mother, with T'Naisa's slender build and delicate features. But her thick wavy hair was dark like her father's, with only a glint of Mom's red where the light touched it. All three of them had the same rich brown eye color, and they all seemed very Vulcan despite their human blood. Tess thought she looked pretty in the blue sundress she had chosen to wear. She looked like a woman, but women did not play with dolls, so she put Dolly Brown on her bed pillow.

Alone in their mountain cabin, she went into the cozy living area and sat at the piano. Her heart felt heavy as she fingered the keys and began one of her eldest brother's sonatas. She could not stop thinking about her parents. It frightened her to think of them eventually growing old and dying. But there was another part of her that chafed at the thought of being "cared for" while her young relatives went on to lead interesting lives and form new families of their own.

Tess broke off the sonata. Leaving the cabin, she walked across the sunny clearing to the seminary where her parents were busy. She did not disturb them, but turned instead to another Person in whom she often confided. Quietly she slipped into the ground floor temple and poured out her troubles to the Vulcan Shiav. In silent prayer, she laid all her hopes and sorrows before Yanash.

She recalled the dinner last month when she had announced to her father, "I want to be a piano teacher. Then I can teach children to play music, just like you taught me."

Her parents had exchanged a guarded look. Then T'Naisa said, "Maybe someday, Tessie." And Spock added something strange. "Tess, I never taught you to play the piano."

He never taught her? Confused, Tess had thought hard, trying to remember how she had received her memory for music. For suddenly she realized that's all it was—a memory for musical repetition. The marks on her father's music books meant nothing to her.

With new understanding, she had said, "Then I must have a natural talent. Father, it's the 'notes', isn't it? Those 'notes' you tried to tell me about—that's how most people learn to play music."

His eyebrow had risen, as it always did when she surprised him by grasping some new concept. And he replied, "Yes, what you have is a natural talent, but to teach music, one must understand the written language of music."

To Tess, his tone seemed to imply that this secret knowledge was beyond her. She turned her eyes to her plate so he would not see the frustration in them. During her younger days, he had tried hard to educate her, but she could only comprehend so much. With the coming of her brilliant cousin D'Gar, she had felt the beginnings of jealousy and a deep embarrassment that made her start to resist her daily lessons. When Spock found that he could not force her, T'Naisa tried, with no better results. Eventually the lessons stopped altogether. When D'Gar turned thirteen, he went to live with his father, Nayo. There had been some talk then of sending Tess away to a special school, but she found the idea so terrifying that she clung to her mother and sobbed. T'Naisa promised she could stay, as long as she resumed her lessons with a tutor. And all through the years, Tess had honestly tried to learn from Mrs. Torkel, who was a very nice lady, but her mind often wandered to thoughts of play.

Today was different. Seated alone in the temple, Tess gave no thought to Dolly Brown and the other faithful doll companions of her long childhood. Friendly shadows flickered on the paneled walls, and there was a sweet, comforting odor of wax and incense. All was quiet and familiar, and in her heart she seemed to hear a tender voice speaking words of encouragement.

And she thought, I am not too stupid to learn. I already know how to play music, and I can unlock the secret of those "notes", too. Then I'll be able to teach. Then I'll earn money and have a real future, like everyone else. I can do it!

oooo

To her delight, Tess discovered that old Mrs. Torkel knew the language of music. For the first time in her life, Tess wanted badly to learn. She worked hard on all her subjects so that Mrs. Torkel would secretly teach her how to read musical symbols. The tutor gave Spock and T'Naisa the usual academic reports, but they knew nothing about those other lessons. They were for Tess alone, and each new accomplishment brought her a great deal of pleasure. Each day, when her parents were safely out of the cabin, she drew out some sheet music and practiced interpreting the notations. Strange, that it had seemed so difficult before. Now she made such rapid progress, that she could soon sit down to her father's music books and play any piece she chose—not by memory, but by sight.

Then one day in the living room, T'Naisa said, "Tessie, your birthday is coming up next month, and so is Christmas. What would you like? Another doll?"

Tess glanced at a photo of herself at age four, a pretty little cherub with rather vacant eyes. Was that the way her parents still saw her? But she was not little anymore, and though she still loved dolls, they no longer satisfied her. She enjoyed being in the company of real children, and now more than ever, she enjoyed her music. There was no question about it. More than anything she wanted to teach piano, but her parents stood squarely in her path.

Drawing a deep breath, she ventured to say, "No, Mom, not a doll. I'd like a little clock to put on the piano."

T'Naisa looked puzzled. "But we already have a nice clock in the room."

Tess felt her heart pounding. There was so much that she wanted to say, so much she wanted her mother to understand. But how to begin? She decided to start with the recital that Mrs. Torkel was helping her plan. Though Tess had never performed publicly, she knew that people were aware of her musical talent because she had heard them talking about it. Someone once called her a "savant", and she knew that the meaning of the word was different from the kind explanation Spock offered. She looked up the word herself, and coming across the term "idiot savant", she understood why her parents kept her out of the public eye. But Tess no longer felt the need to be so sheltered. Now, as never before, life was calling to her.

Drawing on every scrap of courage, she bravely said, "Mrs. Torkel and I are planning a piano recital. I can use her church hall, as long as I charge a little something and give the church a percentage."

T'Naisa's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "A…percentage?" she said in a weak voice.

"Yes," Tess explained, "a share in the ticket sales." Before her mother could object, she quickly added, "I'll dress fancy and we'll hand out fliers advertising my services as a piano teacher. That's why I want the clock—so I can look up from the keyboard and time the lessons."

Tears welled in her mother's eyes. "Oh, Tessie…a recital might be alright, but…"

For once, Tess did not give in. Rising to her feet, she said, "No, Mom, this is important. Mrs. Torkel is arranging everything. I'm going to teach."

Not another word was spoken about it, but that night as Tess lay in bed, she heard her parents quarreling. T'Naisa said it was all the fault of Mrs. Torkel and they must let her go at once. Spock thought it unlike the tutor to offer false hope. Up to now the woman had done so well with "the child"—better, for some reason, than either of them. "No," he insisted, they should give Mrs. Torkel a fair hearing. He was inclined to have her stay on, even if it meant that Tess must learn "a hard lesson". T'Naisa thought Spock was "being cruel", but Tess felt glad that he was coming to good Mrs. Torkel's defense.

The following day, the house was very quiet. T'Naisa went about with a pained expression. Spock tried explaining to Tess, yet again, that an ear for music was not sufficient for teaching. But if she wanted to perform, he would allow it.

Tess privately wondered why she needed his permission, for she knew from her studies that a person of eighteen had all the rights of an adult. But in her case, things were different; they always had been.

Trying hard to be patient, she told him, "Father, the reason for the recital is to attract students. You'll see, and so will Mom. I'm going to be a teacher…just like you."

When Mrs. Torkel came, she told Tess that Spock and T'Naisa had talked to her and were deeply concerned. Mrs. Torkel had asked for their trust, and though she advised Tess to tell them about her new musical accomplishment, Tess refused. Her parents assumed that she was just silly and ignorant. They didn't realize how much she was changing inside, and she could not think of how to tell them. Instead, she would show them. For now, it seemed like the only way.

oooo

Soon everything was ready for the recital. The programs were printed, including an advertisement for reasonably priced piano lessons. Tess put on her finest dress and T'Naisa helped arrange her auburn hair in a pretty new style.

Standing together at the mirror, T'Naisa said, "Tessie…a lot of tickets have been sold. It looks like there'll be a good crowd, and I'm sure you'll do fine. But Tess…even if any of these people want their children to learn from you, there's no possible way for you to teach them."

Tess turned and met her mother's somber eyes. With a heavy heart, she asked, "Are you sure? Are you?"

It was time to board the skimmer. Spock was silent as he flew them to Pinehaven, and Tess knew that he was anticipating her ultimate failure, just like T'Naisa. At the church hall, Tess entered through the back door and found Mrs. Torkel waiting for her. Every ticket had been sold, and there were even people standing in the aisles.

Suddenly Tess felt a stab of anxiety. Her hands were cold and shaky as she walked onto the stage. A wave of applause greeted her, and looking out, she saw her parents in the seats reserved for them in the front row. Then she sat down at the piano. It was a baby grand with a rich, full tone. Her fingers settled over the keys, and as she began to play, the music swept away her jitters and she lost herself in its timeless beauty.

She performed five diverse selections, ending in Chopin's variation on "La Ci Darem la Mano." Then rising, she faced the audience and they began to applaud. A middle-aged couple got to their feet, and then everyone was standing and clapping hard. Blushing, she bowed politely as Mrs. Torkel had instructed. Then she gladly made her escape, went home with her parents, and waited.

oooo

A week passed without a single student, but Tess told herself that they would come. With Christmas so near, people were busy. They needed time to think and plan. But when another week went by without a single call, she felt her dream slipping away.

One snowy afternoon, Tess heard the phone chiming. T'Naisa was quick to answer it on her wrist phone and hurried into her bedroom to talk. Finding it suspicious, Tess went to the door and listened. Her mother was speaking in very low tone.

"Yes…of course…I'm sorry. Tess has all the students she can handle just now. But yes, if an opening comes up, I'll be sure to tell you."

In a rush of anger, Tess swung open the door and said, "Mother, that call is for me and I'll take it."

T'Naisa turned, eyes wide-open with horror. Tess went to the main phone screen and scheduled piano lessons for her first student. Then she ended the call and found her mother watching. There was a time when Tess would have stamped her foot and howled with outrage, but now her wounded spirit made itself known with bitter words.

"You lied! How many other people have been calling me?"

T'Naisa released a heavy sigh. "I…I was only trying to spare you."

"Spare me? Oh, I see now, you didn't really lie, did you? 'She has all the students she can handle'—you think I can't handle even one!" Tess fought hard to bring herself under control. "Mom, I'm growing up. I'm not as dumb as you and Father think. I suppose he's been turning people away, too? Telling them I'm too busy?"

"Tessie, no…" T'Naisa's voice broke. "Not your father. He told me not to do it."

There, at least, was some consolation, but Tess knew that her father expected her to fail. All that afternoon she kept to her room, feeling too hurt by her parents to associate with either of them. Though her favorite dolls gazed down with sympathy from their shelf, not even Dolly Brown brought her any comfort.

The cabin smelled of cooking when someone tapped on her door. Reluctantly Tess rose from her bed and said, "Come in."

Her parents entered. T'Naisa apologized and handed her a list of names and phone numbers. There were seven, in all.

Spock only said, "Come and eat, Tess. You must be hungry." He offered no wish for her success because he did not believe she was capable of succeeding.

Still hurting, Tess told them, "I don't want the family to 'take care' of me. I want a future like D'Gar and all the others."

Father's slanted brow rose slightly and his eyes were very sad.

oooo

Tess arranged her teaching schedule around Mrs. Torkel's lessons. The first student arrived on Saturday morning. Snow lingered on the ground, but the sky was frosty and clear as a little girl came to the door with her aunt. She was eight years old and knew nothing about the piano. T'Naisa was present as Tess welcomed them warmly, and then the aunt slipped away. Happy to have a student at last, Tess tried to put her watchful mother out of her mind. She had been a child herself for so long that she knew how to talk to children and set them at ease. And so she sat little Allison beside her on the piano bench, and they began.

Partway through the lesson, Tess heard her mother go to the door, heard her shoes crunching hurriedly in the snow. Tess smiled in a bittersweet manner as she pictured her rushing to tell Spock, "She's teaching! She's actually teaching!"

By the end of the session, Allison could find middle C on her own and play a simple little melody that left her wanting to learn more. Tess sent her away with words of encouragement and a beginner's workbook bought from the proceeds of her recital. It made her feel proud to collect her pay, and it was only the start, for that very afternoon there would be another student, and more throughout the week.

Thrilled by the thought, she spoke aloud one of her mother's favorite phrases. "What fun!"

Then the cabin door opened, and there stood her parents. The tip of T'Naisa's nose looked a little flushed, as if she had been crying, but she did not seem unhappy.

Spock questioned Tess with his eyes and said, "You can read music."

"Of course," she responded. "How else could I teach?"

"You might have told us," he said in mild reproach.

"You might have asked," she countered with a quickness of mind that surprised even her. "I told you I was going to teach piano, but you didn't believe me—neither of you. Do you know how that made me feel?"

T'Naisa said in defense, "I've always believed in you...and so did your father. You're the one who pushed us away."

Tess was torn with emotion. Though her parents didn't always understand her, she had never really doubted their love. She was their "miracle baby", a "gift from God". But she was no longer a baby. And suddenly Tess saw another reason why she had kept silent about her musical achievement.

Breaking into tears, she said, "I know I should have talked to you, but I was afraid…afraid that if I wasn't your 'little Tessie' anymore, you wouldn't love me as much."

T'Naisa rushed over and enclosed her in a hug. "Oh, Tess. Parents delight in seeing their children grow up. Your accomplishments are precious to us. We're so proud of you!"

Tess turned and looked pleadingly at her father. "Are you? Are you proud of me, too?"

The welling in his eyes tugged at her heart. "Indeed I am," he said very sincerely.

Tess thought she could not possibly be any happier until T'Naisa handed her a box wrapped in colorful paper and said, "Your birthday is tomorrow, but I want you to have this now."

Tess peeled off the wrapping. Inside, she found a beautiful little clock, just perfect for the top of the piano.

oooOOooo