{"id":5495,"date":"2022-05-23T11:34:55","date_gmt":"2022-05-23T17:34:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/?page_id=5495"},"modified":"2022-05-23T20:41:17","modified_gmt":"2022-05-24T02:41:17","slug":"get-a-handel-on-it","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/fiction-fridays\/get-a-handel-on-it\/","title":{"rendered":"Get a H\u00e4ndel on It"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/player.blubrry.com\/id\/84367240#\" title=\"Blubrry Podcast Player\" scrolling=\"no\" width=\"100%\" height=\"138px\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\"><figure class=\"alignright size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"268\" height=\"417\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-909\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336.png 268w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336-193x300.png 193w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336-15x24.png 15w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336-23x36.png 23w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Handel-e1606718824336-31x48.png 31w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 268px) 100vw, 268px\" \/><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen Schneider clambered through the sea of musicians to her assigned chair in the symphony hall. She gritted her teeth. Second chair. With a swift motion, she pulled her hundred-year-old violin from its case. The smell of antique wood filled the air. The varnish, faded after many years, contrasted with the shiny new instruments held by several other players. But for a violin, beauty increased with age.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The black dress Karen wore hid her non-existent hips like a grocery sack. She wiped damp palms on the chiffon fabric, then took her seat. <em>I hope the concert goes well today. For Angie\u2019s sake. <\/em>Karen scanned the assembled musicians in search of her sister. No sign of her yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Choir members in forest green robes filed onto risers, music binders in hand. Karen twirled a strand of hair around her finger, grateful to be in the orchestra pit and not on stage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHello, Karen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her stomach muscles tightened at the curt voice beside her. Ugh, her stand partner, Sarah. \u201cGood evening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The girl ran a manicured hand through raven black hair. \u201cReady for tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen rubbed her forehead. \u201cYes. Are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOf course.\u201d Sarah straightened her shoulders. I\u2019ve performed Handel\u2019s <em>Messiah <\/em>a dozen times. I could play it in my sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/bnK8V3BZNeM\" title=\"YouTube video player\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen=\"\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\"><\/iframe>\n\n\n\n<p>Ever since Sarah transferred to Belton University from Chicago, she\u2019d sat first chair for every concert. <em>How unfair. <\/em>Karen had spent her entire life in this college town. But now \u201c<em>Miss Big City<\/em>\u201dhad swept in and taken over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The conductor commanded his place on the platform and motioned for Sarah to tune. She flashed a radiant smile, then played the tuning note as long as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Diva.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen held her breath as she waited for the maestro\u2019s opening cue. At the stroke of his downbeat, she pulled her bow across the strings. The strains of the minor theme filled the spacious concert hall with life and sound. All thoughts of Sarah faded as Karen focused her energy on the music at hand. The notes, fast and powerful, burst from her instrument like horses from a starting gate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"900\" height=\"506\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Violin1.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-5572\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Violin1.png 900w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Violin1-300x169.png 300w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Violin1-768x432.png 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>After the lively first movement, the tenor soloist, dressed in a crisp black tux, crooned the words \u201cComfort Ye My People.\u201d Karen drew a deep breath. After such a volatile winter, especially with the death of her aunt, she relished the comfort of the ancient words. Music served as the balm to her heartache. She\u2019d been Karen\u2019s first violin teacher\u2014the one who\u2019d encouraged her to become a music major. How she missed her aunt\u2019s guidance, coffee dates, and late-night chats. Tears threatened to spill. Now who would champion her career, with her aunt gone and Sarah\u2019s domination of the music scene?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A couple measures of rests afforded Karen the chance to glance at the vocalists. Why hadn\u2019t Angie joined the other soloists on stage? She\u2019d never miss a concert. Karen scanned the back of the stage again to find her sister. The drummer, George, gave her a wink. His shaggy hair hung like curtains around his face. Heat crept into her cheeks as hypothetical visions of the two of them alone backstage filled her mind. As both a classical percussionist and drummer in a rock band, he\u2019d won the title \u201cheartthrob\u201d of the music school. If only he\u2019d ask her out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"900\" height=\"506\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Drums.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-5584\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Drums.png 900w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Drums-300x169.png 300w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Drums-768x432.png 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>A jab in the arm from Sarah\u2019s bow jerked her back to the present. Time for the violins to take the melody. As the they began the theme \u201cFor Unto Us a Child Is Born,\u201d a horrible squawk erupted from Sarah\u2019s instrument. She pulled it from her shoulder, her face drained of all color. The E string had snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They both froze. How could Sarah lead the section without one of her strings?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For one brilliant second, Karen\u2019s heart leapt. <em>This is my chance<\/em>. <em>I can lead the orchestra without her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That same moment, her sister Angie strode onstage, a radiant soprano in a satin dress that accentuated her curves. Of course she\u2019d waited until her solo to make a grand appearance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Angie flashed her a smile, but it quickly faltered at the sight of the broken string.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDo something,\u201d she mouthed to Karen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She sighed. Although nothing would give her more pleasure than to watch Sarah sit in silence while Karen led the violin section, it wasn\u2019t protocol. Her gaze dropped to the antique instrument in her hands. Could she trust anyone else with this treasure? She closed her eyes, exhaled, then extended her precious instrument to Sarah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The look of panic on her face softened to one of gratitude. For a split second, their eyes met. \u201cThank you,\u201d Sarah mouthed as they exchanged instruments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re welcome.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sarah clutched the violin under her chin and motioned for the rest of the section to join.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen opened her own rectangular case and dug in one of the compartments. <em>I\u2019ve got a spare set of strings in here somewhere. <\/em>She pulled out a thin spiral wire and threaded it through the hole in the peg. After several turns, the wood twisted into position, just as Angie opened with \u201cRejoice, Rejoice, Rejoice Greatly.\u201d Karen\u2019s lips curved into a smile as she rejoiced that she could still accompany her sister, whose beautiful voice reverberated throughout the hall like Easter bells.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>During Intermission, Sarah and Karen swapped instruments backstage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThanks for saving me back there.\u201d Sarah bit her lip. \u201cI\u2019m glad you had a spare string on hand. I forgot to replace mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen shrugged. \u201cNo problem. Glad to help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sarah smiled. \u201cYou\u2019d make a good section leader. Maybe we can trade places sometime if the conductor agrees to it. Your violin is already used to first chair.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Karen laughed. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t say no.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t?\u201d A deep voice sounded behind her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She spun around to find herself face-to-face with George.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;\u201cIn that case, how about dinner with me after the concert?\u201d He ran his hand through his shaggy hair. Her heart beat as fast as a drumroll.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cUhhh\u2026\u201d Her voice caught in her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"900\" height=\"506\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Handel.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-5594\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Handel.png 900w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Handel-300x169.png 300w, https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Handel-768x432.png 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 767px) 89vw, (max-width: 1000px) 54vw, (max-width: 1071px) 543px, 580px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>He placed a hand on her shoulder. \u201cI\u2019ll take that as a yes.\u201d With a quick stride, he returned to his place behind the timpani.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d Sarah pulled her back onstage. \u201cWe don\u2019t want to be late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As Karen settled into second chair, excitement welled up in her chest at the prospect of leading the orchestra, not to mention a date with George. At this rate she might as well join the choir for the \u201cHallelujah Chorus.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Karen Schneider clambered through the sea of musicians to her assigned chair in the symphony hall. She gritted her teeth. Second chair. With a swift motion, she pulled her hundred-year-old violin from its case. The smell of antique wood filled the air. The varnish, faded after many years, contrasted with the shiny new instruments held &hellip; <\/p>\n<p class=\"link-more\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/fiction-fridays\/get-a-handel-on-it\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Get a H\u00e4ndel on It&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":909,"parent":5532,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-5495","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"translation":{"provider":"WPGlobus","version":"3.0.2","language":"de","enabled_languages":["en","es","fr","de","it","br"],"languages":{"en":{"title":true,"content":true,"excerpt":false},"es":{"title":false,"content":false,"excerpt":false},"fr":{"title":false,"content":false,"excerpt":false},"de":{"title":false,"content":false,"excerpt":false},"it":{"title":false,"content":false,"excerpt":false},"br":{"title":false,"content":false,"excerpt":false}}},"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5495","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5495"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5495\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5620,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5495\/revisions\/5620"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5532"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/909"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rescotcreative.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5495"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}