A/N: Ok, I've finally got a new chapter for this one. So sorry that it took me so long. I just kept sitting down to write and then I'd get interrupted and loose my train of thought. It's finally here. Hope the next one is up a bit more quickly. Also, I made several changes in my past chapters. For those who do not want to spend the time reading them all over again, the only important changes that I remember are 1.) the rulers in Persia are the Shah and his younger sister the Sultana (not the Khanum, his mother as I was previously writing it), 2.) When Erik first arrived and saw and saw Diya, Nadir's son, he recognized that the boy's illness is far worse than what he had imagined from the Daroga's description, and he is still hesitant to tell Nadir, 3.) When Diya first sees his father again, he asks (as he apparently often does when his father returns from a journey) if he brought him back a pet monkey. The other changes are just little details and things that I don't remember like grammatical corrections, like the fact that I split the last chapter into two chapters. And now, on to chapter six. Enjoy. Please send reviews.
Chapter Six
The Illusion of the Monkey Musician
In the morning, I was again awakened by a knock on my door. I sat up quickly, and habitually tying my mask on, I walked to the door. Upon opening it I was greeted by a young maidservant whom I had seen running about the kitchen on the previous night.
"Good morning Sir," she greeted me with a little bow, hiding her fear of me very well for a woman. "My master wishes to know if you will be joining him and his son for breakfast."
"You may thank him and offer my apologies. I am afraid that I must decline this morning, Mademoiselle." I paused, stifling a yawn. "What is your name Mademoiselle?"
"Hanan," she replied. The young lady's anxiety was begging to show by this time.
"Well Mademoiselle Hanan," I continued, taking a step away from her in order to ease her worries, "I am still exceptionally tired after my journey. You may tell the Daroga that I will be down later on this morning."
"Very well, Sir," she said. The woman gave a second quick bow and then left.
Once she was gone, I moved lethargically to the table beside my bed, my eyes still half-closed. My fingers groped over the marbled surface until they met with a familiar metal object. Peering at my watch, I saw that the time was only a quarter after six, and I had slept for about two hours. I removed my mask and stretched out lazily on the soft bed. Sunlight poured in from a nearby widow. I quickly pulled the blanket over my head, blocking out the unwelcome rays of light. Soon I had drifted off into a deep sleep.
When I awoke again, it was about noon. I felt quite refreshed but a bit groggy, perhaps from over-sleeping. I quickly replaced my mask, straightened my ruffled clothing, combed back my hair, and then made my way downstairs. No one was anywhere in sight, at first glance. I wandered around hesitantly for a few minutes, finding only a few servants preoccupied with housework. At last, I located the boy's attendant. He could not be far off.
"Excuse me Mademoiselle Leila, do you know where I might find Nadir and Diya?" I asked, peering around a nearby corning in hopes of finding them.
The woman turned at once at the sound of my voice, and she stared at me in startled silence for a few moments.
"I… I am sorry…. You frightened me, Sir," she panted at last. "Yes Sir… they are in the dinning room having lunch. The master told me to inform you that you are welcome to join them if you wish."
"Thank you Leila," I said, bowing to her.
Although she too did her best to hide it, I could tell that the poor woman was absolutely terrified of me. Lowering my gaze, I walked slowly to the dinning room where I found the Daroga and his son already eating.
"Ah, good morning Erik," Nadir greeted me, "or should I say good afternoon. Please do sit down."
"What took you so long?" the boy asked impatiently, pushing his plate aside.
"Diya, I'm surprised at you!" his father scolded. "Where are your manners?"
"I'm sorry, Father, Mr. Erik," he returned, hanging his head in shame.
"It is quite alright, Diya," I attempted to cheer him up, smiling and gently lifting his chin with one bony finger. "I know that you are simply excited about seeing your surprise. You are a bit impatient, but you have every reason to be. Never fear, you will get it right after you've finished eating."
"Oh, my surprise!" he cried, happily clapping his little hands together, a common gesture of his that I found most endearing.
I sat down across from the boy, folding my hands in my lap.
"Help yourself," Nadir offered. "There is plenty of food."
"Nothing for me, thank you," I replied, shaking my head. "I do not eat lunch as a rule." It was true. I was quite accustomed to eating only one meal a day, if that. Nadir gave me a look of disapproval. I simply ignored his cold stair, shrugging it off and dismissing the reprimand that he was surely about to give, before it was spoken. "Really, you cannot blame me Daroga; I could eat another bite after last evening."
The Daroga and I watch in silence as the boy hurriedly finished his lunch. A few minutes later, when his plate was clean, Diya looked up.
"I'm done," he said definitely. "May I go with Mr. Erik now and see my surprise? Please Father? Please?"
"I suppose so," Nadir answered hesitantly, "but after that, I wish to speak with Erik alone, and you still have your lessons today. Erik may not stay with us if you use his presence as an excuse to neglect your schoolwork. I will not have him distracting you, Diya."
The boy pouted, and I thought it best to speak on his behalf as well as mine.
"Very well, Nadir." I nodded. "When we have finished, I will meet you in the garden, and your son will attend to his lessons. I will not be a diversion from his schooling; I promise you that. Come with me, Diya."
With no further words to the Daroga, I gathered the frail boy in my arms and carried him up to the guestroom. Once we had reached the room, I stood him on the floor, carefully seeing that his legs were steady. Then I walked over to a stool that I had waiting.
"And here, Diya, is your surprise," I said, motioning to the empty stool. A smile tugged at my lips. He looked at me questioningly and then started to speak:
"But, I don't see any-"
I silenced him by putting the long fingers of one hand to his lips. "But there is a surprise," I told him in a voice little more than a whisper. "You will see Diya, things are not always as they seem." With that, I waved my cloak over the stool and then pulled it away. Beneath it appeared a little music box. Sitting atop the box was a lead figure of a monkey, dressed in Persian robes, and playing the cymbals. This was the surprise that had taken me nearly all night to fashion for him, and I was very proud of the little automaton.
Diya squealed with delight and clapped his hands vigorously. As soon as he did this, the small box started playing. The monkey's little hands moved, clinking his cymbals together throughout the song. Diya stood transfixed, watching in utter amazement. When the music had finished playing, he limped to my side and looked up at me, his eyes shining.
"It's the perfect surprise, Mr. Erik! I have always wanted a pet monkey, but I think this is even better. At least Father can't complain about this monkey making a mess of the house. How does it work?" he asked eagerly.
"It works like any living musician," I replied with a proud smile. "The monkey is very special, almost like a living thing. Each time he will perform a different tune, but he will only play when you clap for him. Without your applause he will remain silent. And he will not play for just anyone. The mere polite clapping of those uninterested in his art will only discourage him. You see Diya, you must applaud enthusiastically to satisfy an artist's insatiable sense of pride."
Once again the boy looked astonished. He nodded slowly, and then his eyes lit up.
"Oh thank you, Mr. Erik!" he exclaimed, throwing his little arms around me again. I smiled this time. I was beginning to get used to the boy's attachment to me. He was the first person to show me any manner of devotion, and I was actually growing to enjoy the child's attention. I gently patted the boy's head and allowed the embrace to last for a few minutes. Then I remembered that Nadir was waiting to speak with me. I could not put off the inevitable. The Daroga must know about his son's health.
"All right, Diya," I said, prying the boy away from myself. "I need to go and talk to your father now, so you run along and be a good boy."
"Aw, that means I have to go finish my lessons," he grimaced at the thought.
I laughed gently at his reaction. "That is the only way you will grow up to be a big, smart man like your father," I told him. "You must have adequate education in order to gain favor with the Shah. After all, you are a noble." Not that that meant much; in Persia, it was said that he princes outnumbered the camels and the fleas.
"I don't want to be a prince," he said decidedly. "When I grow up, I want to be a magician like you."
I allowed the boy to lead me back downstairs without seeing where we were going, completely stunned by his dedication to me. He wanted to be like me? That was absolutely unthinkable. If only he knew what it was that he wished for. A life traveling with the fair, for me, meant a life of constantly being on your guard, killing often to protect yourself. What the civilized world knows as murder had become an art to me. The boy's voice called my mind back to reality. We were standing on the veranda in the midst of a flock of wicker furniture, looking out into a beautiful garden.
"Father, come see what Mr. Erik gave me!" Diya called merrily.
"What is it, my son?" Nadir asked. He approached us quickly, studying the little music box in the boy's hand.
"He is a monkey, like I always wanted," he stated proudly. "But he's not just any monkey. He's a musician."
Nadir gave me a look of incredulity and muttered, "A musician? What kind of ideas have you been putting into his head?"
"He is a wonderful musician," Diya went on, ignoring Nadir's comment. "Listen." The child clapped his hands loudly, and the music box began to play. The Daroga watched, one eyebrow raised skeptically, apparently contemplating the illusion. When the song had finished, the monkey gave a little bow. With a delighted smile, Diya turned to his father. "He will play for you too if you clap for him. He'll play a new song for you. Clap Father. Clap!"
Nadir humored him and clapped very softly. Nothing. The monkey was still, as I knew he would be. I was about to speak when Diya gave my explanation for me.
"No, no. Not like that Father. It works like any living musician," he parroted. "'You must applaud enthusiastically to satisfy an artist's insatiable sense of pride.' That's what Mr. Erik said."
The Daroga gave me a questioning glance, and I nodded, folding my arms across my chest and leaning on a nearby pillar. A faint smile curled at my lips; I was very proud indeed of the little follower that I had gained. At his boy's insistence, Nadir applauded a bit louder, but not nearly loud enough. There were cries of, "Louder Father!" and "Mr. Erik says that you have to clap with enthusiasm! The monkey will be hurt if you don't!" Diya's tone grew a bit more commanding. "More Father! More!" Finally, when his applause reached the proper level, the monkey acknowledged him and began to play another variation of the same haunting melody.
Nadir studied the little box even more keenly as it played, and when it had finished he gave me a knowing look. Apparently, he thought that he had mastered the illusion of the monkey musician.
"Again! Again!" Diya squealed.
The boy was about to put his hands together for the little monkey once again when his father's hand on one shoulder stayed him.
"Wait Diya," Nadir instructed calmly. "Let's not clap this time and see what it does. Just wait. Your monkey will play again if we are patient."
"No," I interjected, taking a seat in one of the wicker chairs. "He will not play again. You may wait all day, and you will not get a sound out of that little box. The monkey is not set to a timing device, Daroga."
"Come now, Erik, there must be some sort of explanation for it," he insisted, anger slowly creeping into his tone. "This monkey does not know when we are clapping. It cannot tell when we applaud with vigor. It is a toy!"
"If you insist, Daroga," I replied coolly. "But I can tell you now that it will not work without wholehearted applause."
Rolling his eyes, Nadir completely ignored my correction. He watched the little box for several minutes, and I could clearly see that he was loosing his equanimity. It troubled him greatly when he could not comprehend such a simple illusion. Lines of anger creased his forehead. When he could take no more of that mocking silence, the Daroga rose, tearing the box from his son's hands.
"It must have run down," he said triumphantly, hoping once again that he had found the proper solution. "I will wind it up again, and then the monkey will play. Where is the key?"
"There is no key," I told him wearily.
"Nonsense Erik. There must be a key. Where have you hidden it?"
I gave no reply. He turned the music box over several times, searching almost frantically for the alleged key. Sighing wearily, I placed one hand to my head. He would have to give up this futile attempt soon; there was in truth no key. I had shut my eyes for a moment when Diya's sudden cry alerted me to his father's ridiculous behavior.
"Father stop! Please don't shake my monkey! You'll hurt him!"
My eyes flew open. The man seemed to have gone insane. He was shaking the little box wrathfully, as if somehow that would help him to understand its secret. Diya stood looking up at his father, his eyes wide with horror as he pulled on the corner of his robe, screaming for mercy for his precious toy. This would have to stop at once.
"Daroga, give me the automaton," I quietly addresses him, standing and holding out one hand for the small figure. He obeyed silently with sudden calmness of manner. "Really Daroga," I went on in that same soft, forceful tone. "You should be ashamed of yourself. Such childish behavior. I fear that you could not comprehend the illusion of this particular toy, even if I were to explain it to you. By all rights, I should not tell you now. However, I will enlighten you this evening when Diya has gone to bed if you are still so eager to learn of its secret."
At that time, I turned my attention to Diya. Nadir remained silent, stunned. The boy gazed up at me, his upturned face streaked with tears. When I knelt and handed him the music box, he threw himself into my arms, weeping fiercely. For several minutes, I spoke soothingly to the child, stroking his hair and rocking him gently back and forth as he clung to my shirt and cradled the automaton in his own arms. Soon I began to sing to him. As the soft melody infolded the child, he became silent, and his tears gradually abated. When my song had come it its end, I pulled carefully away.
"D-does it still work?" the boy stammered, gazing fretfully at his new, beloved toy.
"We shall see."
I set the little monkey on a small wicker table and clapped my hands. The music box gave a few sputtering notes and then went silent. Fresh tears formed in the eyes of my young companion.
"Oh no…. No… it doesn't work. My monkey is broken." Diya sniffled as he grasped the box once more.
"I will fix it for you, Diya," I told him, taking the figure from his grasp. "You'd better be getting back to your studies now. I will have your monkey back to you as soon as I have repaired the damages. Can you be a brave boy and do your school work now?" Diya nodded, and I forced a smile. "Good. I promise that the monkey will be playing again by the time that you have finished your lessons."
Nodding happily, Diya limped back toward the house. He hobbled through the doorway without so much as a glance at his father. Nadir looked stricken. His actions had hurt Diya, and he had also broken his son's trust. Now was plainly no time to speak with him on the matter of the boy's health. First I would allow him to renew the trust that he had cut off.
"Go at speak with him, Daroga." Although Nadir turned to look at me, I could see that his focus was not on my eyes. He was staring past me into the garden. "Diya needs to hear that you are sorry for your actions," I told him. "Tell him why you shook the toy, and tell him that you were wrong to do it. He will understand, just as I do. We can have our discussion later. It will wait. I am returning to my room. Now go and make amends with your son."
He closed his eyes, letting out a sorrowful sigh and muttering some sort of prayer. Then, Nadir turned to go, stopping only briefly in the doorway to look back at me. Once Nadir had disappeared back into the house, I made my way back up to the guestroom. Little harm was done to the monkey music box, and in less than an hour I had him running beautifully. When that work was finished, I slipped silently out of my room, laying the toy at Diya's usual stop at the dinner table. The remainder of my day was spent alone composing with my precious violin. The hours passed quickly that way. I sensed that Nadir and Diya needed several hours together without my interference. Their time alone apparently served its purpose, for they both seemed happy enough when I was called to the evening meal. Diya was delighted to have his monkey back and Nadir no longer seemed suspicious of the toy.
The rest of the evening passed without event. And when the boy had gone to sleep, Nadir made no further inquiry about the mechanism that had so puzzled him before. I hardly expected him to. The illusion of my creation would remain a mystery to him and all others.