Chapter 9

In the months that followed, with Nurse and mother mostly being occupied with taking care of his sister, Hannibal often found himself going to his father. He would sit with him or walk with him. His father would speak to him about what he was doing and discovered that his son was still inquisitive and studious. No, that was not true. His son was now even more eager to learn. So, after a few days, his father brought Hannibal some books they had taken with them and started to teach Hannibal. The art of reading he had already mastered, but writing not. That's where they started.

"It is best to learn to write before you learn anything else, so you will be able to copy things and write down your own thoughts. So, here is a pencil. Hold it like this in your right hand. If you feel more comfortable writing with your left hand, that 's fine too. But try your right hand first."

Hannibal took the pencil, held it in his right hand and started to draw a few lines and circles. Then he switched hands and tried again.

"I like to write with both hands, father."

"That's possible. Just write, that's the most important part. Now, I will write down all letters."

Giedrius wrote down all letters, to show how the strokes were to be made. As he finished the last letter and was about to tell Hannibal that he would show them one by one again, Hannibal already started to write, without asking a question. And each letter he wrote as his father had shown him. Hannibal finished writing with his right hand, switched the pencil and began to write with his left. And this time too, just as well, without a question or fault. Then, he lay down the pencil and looked at his father.

"I think this is correct. Am I right?"

"You don't think you are right, Hannibal. You know that you are right, don't you?"

Hannibal smiled.

"Yes, father."

"Then just say so, nothing wrong with that. Telling the truth is very easy, Hannibal. A lie can be told so easily, but it is very difficult to keep the lie. And some people even believe their own lies, that's about the worst thing about lies. I believe that if you have to lie, it is better to alter the truth, or say nothing at all. But I prefer telling the truth, even if the truth can sting or hurt."

Giedrius looked at his son.

"Maybe that was a bit too difficult. You can forget what I said, Hannibal."

Hannibal nodded, but he knew he probably would not. He remembered almost anything.

"Now then, let's focus on the shape of the letters. You don't just want your letters to be readable, you also want your letters to please. The way words are written is part of their meaning or they tell a story of their own. I can write 'It was a beautiful day', but when my letters are all crooked and irregular, what does that say?"

Hannibal grinned.

"It was a lie."

Giedrius laughed.

"Yes, that's one possibility."

Giedrius taught Hannibal as well as he could. He found that Hannibal had already mastered many grammar school skills by himself. He taught him the rest and was surprised by Hannibal memory and intellectual power. Hannibal enjoyed learning. Winter 1942-'43 was a pleasant time for him.

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Spring 1943 was an even more pleasant time for Hannibal. After being confined to the house during the cold winter, walking in the garden with the sun on his face was a treat. But even more: his sister had turned out a treat too. As her wrinkles disappeared and her chubby baby face emerged, Hannibal's repugnance disappeared too, and he found he really liked the little girl with her star-shaped baby hands. The thought that he at first had disliked her, was intolerable to him now. The thought was banned from his consciousness. Now, he loved Mischa, as his parents had named her. And as the months passed and the sun brightened, his love for her grew.

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Nurse entertained Mischa, while Hannibal's mother taught him more about making music. No longer on the grand piano from the Castle, but on the harpsichord they had found at the lodge. His mother liked the grand piano better because it has dynamic nuance, demanding control of touch from the performer. Hannibal liked the harpsichord for its sound, once the key was struck, the note was there, completely, independent from everything but the instrument. Only echo and reverberation were added to the sound.

Today, she taught Hannibal by having him play two pieces from Jean-Baptiste de Lully, even if the man had naturalized from Italian to French citizen. The first piece was Un tendre coeur, which Hannibal rounded without much trouble. The left-hand part was always the most confronting for them, but Hannibal had learned to put his extra finger to good use. While playing, he thought about de Lully's life, musing what would have happened to him, had he allowed his toe to be amputated.

The second piece was J'ai perdu l'appétit, a very comical piece. Hannibal had a bit more trouble with this one, as his mother was getting merry, presumably by the music. Besides, as he played, he heard Nurse walking to and fro, preparing the bath for Mischa. He knew he would be asked to maintain a vigil over her, but he wanted to round the piece successfully, so he withdrew his attention from his mother and just played the piece as she had demonstrated, without improvising and trying new things any more. He saw Nurse passing by, the beaten copper cistern, with only a bottom of water, in her hand. As he had finished the piece, his mother kissed him on the crown of his head, and with a nod of her head, sent him off.

Nurse had placed the cistern in the middle of the garden, where it would gather as much warmth from the sun as possible. There it stood, among the many vegetables Ernst had planted, nearest to the eggplants. Mischa had always favored the eggplants, and only Hannibal knew it was because of their color. Mischa loved colors. Nurse re-entered the lodge and went to the little two-year-old's nursery, to undress her for her bath. When she returned with his little sister, she told Hannibal to take the dog with him and watch his little sister as she bathed. Hannibal called the Akita, and went outside, following Nurse. She had set Mischa in the water. It covered only her chubby legs. Quickly, Nurse washed her, then went inside. She told Hannibal she would be back in a few minutes.

As Hannibal looked at to Nurse, he did not see Mischa. So, unexpected, she put her star-shaped baby hands on his face, laughing out loud. Bubbles of soap on Hannibal's face. Hannibal could not help but laugh too. It was a rare occasion to see him laugh, but it did not surprise or scare Mischa. They looked in each other's eyes. Hannibal's maroon and stalwart, Mischa's blue and tender. Then Mischa looked past Hannibal and stretched her arms. Then Nurse came and took Mischa out of her bath, the little girl still looking past Hannibal, but Nurse did not notice. Lothar came out, dumped the water and took the cistern back inside.

Hannibal took out his penknife, kneeled beside the eggplants and carefully cut the stem of one. He polished it carefully with his handkerchief and took it inside. He walked to Mischa's nursery and placed it where she could see it. Her face lit.