While writing Needlework and Music Notes, I had considered having a chapter/prologue showing Schroeder and Lucy meeting that would set up Schroeder's friendship with Patty so that Ch. 5 would have more of a punch, but in the end I decided to take it out. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it now.
1902
Tiny fingers scampered their way over the ivory keys of the toy upright piano, almost as if they were racing each other to hit the next note. Although the keyboard had only one octave, with black keys merely painted, the owner could produce such sounds from his instrument, that many visitors thought a grown-up was playing until they went into the back parlor of the Afflerbachs' house and discovered a blond toddler on the carpet with the white skirt of his little-boy dress fanned out over his dimpled knees.
A smile stretched across Schroeder's round face as he played; he knew little of the world outside his parlor, except for those glimpses when his parents would push him in his pram when they went on walks or to church, and for those afternoons when he was allowed to play outdoors with the older children who lived in the neighborhood. For the most part, Schroeder preferred to be right in front of his toy upright and throw himself into classical music, especially if it was by Beethoven.
The window had been opened to permit a springtime breeze, and a sunbeam fell upon the sheet music in front of him. Schroeder was not completely sure of the title (since he did not yet know his letters; only music notes), but when his big friend, Charlie Brown, had been by to play with him earlier, he said the title of the sheet music was "Rage Over a Lost Penny, Vented in a Caprice." Schroeder was not sure if Charlie Brown had been telling the truth, however; sometimes the older boy pulled a few tricks on him, like mispronouncing Beethoven's name until the silent Schroeder stamped his feet in frustration, but other times Charlie Brown was very helpful and would read aloud to Schroeder from biographies about Beethoven.
While Beethoven's rondo bubbled into the air like an effervescent fountain of music, a knock came from the parlor door, and he looked up to see the beaming figure of his next-door neighbor, Patty Swanson, framed in the doorway. A white pinafore hung over her plaid frock, and a plaid hair bow hung on one side of her brown hair, which her mother kept short because Patty was always getting into some messy mischief.
Schroeder returned her smile, still playing. Although Patty was a few years older than him and already in kindergarten, she was pretty fun to have around. She liked running and jumping and climbing, and Schroeder's mother let Patty take him on walks around the neighborhood since she was so responsible with the younger kids. ("A mother hen," the grownups called her.)
Instead of striding right into the room, Patty hovered in the doorway. She had her hands tucked behind her back, like she was hiding something.
"Oh, Schroeder!" she sang. "I have a surprise for you!"
At the gleaming look in her eyes, Schroeder stopped his playing to study her with interest. Patty was always coming up with fun things to do, so this had to be something good.
"Can you guess?" Patty asked.
With his eyes on her, Schroeder tapped his little finger against the keys, picking out the opening notes of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony. He tilted his head, inquisitive.
Patty shook her head. "No, it's not something to do with Beethoven this time. It's a friend!"
Without waiting for Schroeder to respond, she pulled her arms forward, hauling a little girl by the hand into view. She was about Schroeder's age, with short black hair and eyes almost as large as silver dollars. Like Patty, she had a white pinafore on over her dress.
"Schroeder Afflerbach," Patty said in her grownup voice, "this is Lucy Van Pelt. She moved into the house two doors down from Charlie Brown a little while ago, but Lucy said she hadn't met you yet, so I've come to introduce her to you."
"Hello, Schroeder," the little girl said, waving her small hand.
Schroeder smiled at her and returned to his piano, starting up "Für Elise" in welcoming. Lucy watched him expectantly before she suddenly pouted and turned to Patty.
"I said hello, and he didn't say hello back,' she whined.
"He doesn't talk much yet," Patty explained on his behalf. "He can only say a few words like 'Mama' and 'Papa.' So, he uses the piano when he wants to say something."
Lucy's expression cleared, and she now looked intrigued.
"What is he saying now?"
Schroeder played "Für Elise" louder, throwing his little arms into his playing.
"I think he means 'Nice to meet you, Lucy,'" Patty guessed. "That's one of his favorite Beethoven songs, so he's showing off for you because he wants you to like Beethoven — and him — too."
Lucy wrinkled her little brow. "What's a Bay-toe-ven?"
"That's a bust of him over there by the fireplace" — nodding to the frowning statue perched on a small table. "Beethoven wrote Schroeder's favorite songs."
Lucy lifted her head, interested. "Like 'Rockabye Baby'?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure." Patty turned to Schroeder. "Did Beethoven write that?"
Schroeder paused and gripped his chin, thinking it over. Then he held up his hands in a shrug.
"That means 'Maybe,'" Patty translated.
She took hold of Lucy's hand and guided her over to stand on Schroeder's right side. Lucy tilted her head, blinking her rather large eyes at his face, then she looked at his legs spread out on the rug.
"I have a baby doll with a dress like that," Lucy said bluntly. "Why's he wearing it?"
Schroeder turned his head with a frown.
"Because he's still itty-bitty, like you, silly," Patty laughed, patting Lucy's black hair. "Little boys wear dresses until they're about three or four, and then they get breeched."
"Why?"
Patty shook her head. "I asked my mamma that, and she told me to ask my papa, and when I asked my papa about it, he told me to ask my mamma. I suppose it's just one of those great mysteries of life."
Lucy released Patty's hand and toddled over to the back of the upright piano. She rested her dimpled elbows on the lid, studying Schroeder with an unabashed curiosity. He looked back, still playing and equally interested. Nobody else in the neighborhood was as small as him, and he felt rather like he was encountering a new species that was vaguely human. He wondered whether Beethoven had ever met any little girls this small and whether he had gotten along with them. (He would have to get Charlie Brown to read him a book about it later.)
After regarding Schroeder for what felt like a long time, Lucy leaned forward and pressed her tiny, chubby finger against the tip of his nose as though it were a door buzzer.
"Beeeeep!" she said in a silly voice.
Schroeder blinked, confused, then looked inquisitively at Patty.
"That means she likes you, Schroeder," Patty smiled at him. "You two are probably going to be great friends."
Friends, he thought. (He thought more words than he could speak.) He liked the idea of that. Maybe Lucy could learn to like Beethoven too, and he could play music while she listened, or maybe she had her own toy piano, and maybe they would sit side by side and play duets…
"Can we play a game now?" Lucy asked, turning to Patty. "I want to do something fun, not stay inside and listen to music."
…Maybe not.
Schroeder sighed to himself, resigned to wait until he could find another pianist to perform a duet with him.
"What would you both like to play?" Patty asked. "We can play House with you two being my babies or we can play a board game or get out the big jump rope."
Lucy did not pause.
"London Bridge Is Falling Down!" she cried, bouncing like a ball.
"That'll be fun, but we can't play it with just the three of us though," Patty said. She snapped her little fingers. "I know! We'll get Charlie Brown. He usually isn't doing anything important, so he'll play."
"Yes!" Lucy cheered.
Patty spun to Schroeder. "How about it? Playing outside will do you some good."
Schroeder furrowed his brow, considering it, but before he could make a decision, Lucy moved around the piano and grabbed his hand, tugging him toward her.
"Let's play, Schroeder," she said, but it sounded a bit like an order. "I want to play with you."
Schroeder blinked, unused to another child just grabbing him, but then he nodded, beginning to brighten. After all, nobody else in the neighborhood was as small as him. It might be fun to play with Lucy, instead of toddling after the big kids who sometimes talked down to him and treated him like a baby. He climbed to his feet, staggering a little to find his balance as his skirt hugged his short legs, then he smiled at Lucy and squeezed her hand back, nodding again.
"You two are so adorable," Patty cooed, taking hold of Schroeder's other hand. "I know you're going to like Lucy, Schroeder."
And maybe Lucy will like Beethoven someday, he thought hopefully.
For now, they could play.
THE END
A/N: Inspired by the strip for April 29, 1952, which is the first time Schroeder and Lucy appear together.
since he did not yet know his letters; only music notes — In the strip for Jan 16, 1952, we see Schroeder is able to read sheet music before he is able to read letters, and by Feb 22, 1952 he was writing out an original composition.
If you were curious about Schroeder's dress, it was a common practice to put boys in skirts until they were toilet trained, when they would receive short trousers (which was called being breeched, as in they could now wear breeches). After it became common for men to wear long trousers, short trousers were then thought of as clothing for children, so a boy was not to wear them after a certain age (13-15). If you're familiar with the Shirley Temple film, Just Around the Corner, you can see this mindset still existed in the 30s when Uncle Sam (who would have been born in the Victorian era) is annoyed that his young nephew, Milton, still wears short pants.