This is not a letter (Concord, 1891)

"Can I help you, Sir?" the young woman asked the rather old man, with a white beard and grey eyes. She was interrupted by his arrival, when she was making a bust. Now she put off her apron, which had hidden her white dress. Her hair was blonde and her eyes blue.

He seemed to study the entrance of "Parnassus" and seemed to be a bit nervous as well bashful.

"Are you Amy?" he asked, still hesitating.

"Oh, no, Sir. My name is Elizabeth Laurence. You seem to mean my mother. She is coming right now." Bess explained and wondered about the stranger. He seemed to be familiar. He wasn't an American, surely, as he had a strong accent. Perhaps from Europe, one of the Professor's friends?

"Peter, I'm so happy to see you!" Amy shouted, when she realized the man. "I wasn't expecting you so early! You were meant to be a surprise. Bess, my darling, do you remember Peter Tchaikovsky? The famous composer from Russia? You were so young when you met him."

Now Peter blushed.

"Just come in, my husband is eager to meet you!"

The Laurence's house was brilliant and with tasteful decoration. Amy offered him some tea and cake. "We'll have to wait a bit for my sisters and their children. Jo is very busy at Plumfield," she explained.

"I still remember our visits in Europe. Bess, I can remember you from the summer trip in Florence. Goodness, I'm getting old and grey."

"And I still know that we were visiting Bayreuth and seeing Wagner's "Ring" cycle. You were so bored that you fell asleep and I had to tell you about the things you were missing. You always had a strong opinion on something." Laurie winked.

Peter cleared his throat: "Actually, to defend myself I liked at least the "Walkürenritt". Valkyries are those strong, powerful warrior women in Scandinavian mythology. And swan shape shifters."

"I think we're deviating a bit. We should rather celebrate you, Peter. Incredible! You are the first Russian composer visiting America! I've heard that you were quite successful in New York. It is a pity we couldn't manage to see you at the opening of the new Music Hall." Amy said.

"Nonsense. It was rather exhausting." Peter replied, sipping the cup of tea.

"I guess, fame is always exhausting." Amy laughed.

"I'm now on my way to Philadelphia and Baltimore. I've visited the Niagara Falls. I went by train. " Peter narrated briefly.

"Amazing!" Bess exclaimed.

"You and the wild, giant water. This is actually fitting to you." Amy said, with a thoughtful look.

But then she heard some noise and laughter.

"At last, the Bhaers and Brookes arriving!" Laurie said.

"Josie! I'm seeing her again." Bess smiled.

"Well, you and your Dad should greet them. I have still something to prepare for the meeting." Amy suggested.

When Laurie left with Bess, Amy went in the kitchen to give the servants the last necessary orders.

Then she returned to her special guest.

"We've not written anymore as much as we used to did, when we were young. And time went by so fast," she remarked after some awkward silence. Then she put out an old photograph out, dated on 1876, from Paris.

Peter was surprised: "You actually kept this one! Well, to be honest, many things did change after this happy year. I got trapped in an unhappy marriage and escaped from the clutches from my wife. I not only hated her, but also my life. But then I got the message that a rich widow would want to spend a lot of money for me so I could focus on composing. Nadezhda von Meck. We've never met, but I exchanged many, many letters with her. And I could tell her anything – and because it was in Russia, it was easier for me than with foreigners. She wanted always listen only to my music – and I also heard that a certain young man from France called Claude Debussy had to play for her it – until he hated me. He's now a promising young musician on his own."

"Debussy! I think I've heard also recently his famous piece "Clair de lune"". Amy remarked.

"Nadezhda and I had a very special relationship…until last year. I couldn't believe its ending and begged her not to stop writing with me, but it seems…she rather needs help for herself."

"How awful." Amy said with compassion.

"Some stories end, some new ones begin. My niece Anna married her son. It's time for the next generation."

"No, that is not true!" Amy protested. "Let's go into the garden a bit."

Peter nodded. When they were walking through the garden, he pointed at the lilacs. "Those beautiful blossoms remind me of the Lilac Fairy in my Sleeping Beauty ballet. It was also performed last year. I love this work so much! And you, Amy, you could have been a beautiful princess Aurora."

"If it was a success, then you could do another one."

"I'm actually composing a new one. The Nutcracker. Good story, but I do not get any inspiration for it. It's awful. I'm too old for children dreams and ….I'm feeling guilty. My sister Sasha has died. When I was abroad and couldn't be at her side, parted by the ocean."

"I really can understand." Amy whispered with tears in her eyes.

"I know you'd do, Amy. Or should I say Mrs. Laurence? Anyway, I just hope to get my old passion back."

"You'll surely do! America will love the Nutcracker! Such a country, with many nations living here together, mostly peaceful."

"Really? And I've heard an interesting new instrument, the Celesta, in Paris. It could be intriguing to use it in an orchestra – for the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy."

"Just do it! And look! My sisters are coming! If you're staying at Plumfield a bit, you'll certainly get inspiration. And remember your own good days, with your siblings and family! Jo has written a book about our childhood memories and it was very successful."

"Thank you a lot, Amy!" Peter replied relieved.

Now it was time to gather at the table, with Meg and Jo, the Professor; John and Daisy; little "Bhaers" and even some other kids from Plumfield. All of them wanted to meet the composer and hear his music.

"I've a little surprise!" Jo grinned and gave Peter Tchaikovsky a little sheet. He opened it curiously and raised his eyebrows.

"That's my Swan Lake."

"I asked a friend to translate it into English. The newspaper article with the story was only in Russian and so I couldn't understand it otherwise."

"It happened a long, long time ago."

"Why did you actually never wanted to talk about it?" Meg asked. "Your Sleeping Beauty is so great."

"On the night of the first performance, I was thrilled by joy and excitement. But the critics were harsh. The story was too silly."

"Actually, this is not quite wrong." Professor Bhaer said. "Your story is too lengthy and has plot holes."

"How do you know? I asked Mr. Begichev for pretending to be the author and mentioning my name only for the music."

"Well, we should know you long enough." Amy smiled.

"My brother Modest blamed everyone else for the failure. The choreographer, the conductor and the costume designer. But actually, my music was too difficult for a ballet."

"I rather think your music was too advanced at this time." Laurie protested.

"Thanks for your flattery. Nevertheless, it was performed quite a lot of times, but then Swan Lake vanished from the bill. Together, with other famous ballets, such as Burgmüller's La Peri. I wanted it to be as good as this ballet, but nothing is made for eternity."

"Fiddlesticks!" Jo exclaimed. "We both love Undine and Shakespeare; and neither this story nor this writer did vanish. Just have the courage to revive it! We know already the suite."

"If you really think, I could perhaps ask the choreographer. The second act with the moon light was quite good."

"And can you tell us the story of Swan Lake? Please!" one of the Plumfield children begged.

Peter smiled. "I just need to fetch something from my bag inside. Amy, would you help me looking for it?"

When Amy accompanied Peter back into the Laurence's home, she remarked.

"I always wondered whether you would find your "Odette". But I think now this was not right. You are rather like the swan maiden, searching for freedom. Breaking free from enchantment."

Peter hesitated, then he smiled. "I've found in many places and times love and friendship. Like a bird I'm trying to cross the ocean. And sometimes I'm feeling like a butterfly. It is easy to hurt me and I actually do not find one flower to rest. I've travelled to so many places. And still, I know my journey is not long anymore. But now, I'll try to think about the Swan Lake story. Amy, the ending is up to you. Because what matters, is my music. Whenever your husband may play it for you or your children, this is my voice, my emotion, my soul. And it's immortal."

Amy nodded, with tears.

"Now, I remember I've been looking for something. Please help me to find it. I'm going to play my music new for the children. Just like in old times. " Peter said, with glowing eyes.

"Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to it!"

The ending

The Nutcracker was staged first in 1892. Peter Tchaikovsky died in 1893. Swan Lake got revived in 1895. He had created only three ballets, but they are the most famous of them all.

Tchaikovsky is my favorite composer.

Swan Lake and Little Women are both my obsessions.

I hope you've enjoyed this crossover!

If you want to know more about "Tchaikovsky discovers America":

watch?v=_TkuAkYOS80

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