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Autumn has begun. The waiting seemed so long, but I could shorten it.

Time has come for me to head to my new sanctuary. I jumped out of bed and dressed up quickly. I almost forgot the case and indoor shoes, so I came back, knocked on the mirror and ran down the street.

This dusty road is fading slowly but surely. The ground is absorbing what remains from the sunlight, getting ready for cold. Lovely trees will soon throw off their copper, leaving brown bones to be cared for by snow without fear. Even if this very snow is yet to be fallen – I'm already feeling it. I'm also feeling this wave approaching, a wave that will cover me whole and give a beginning to new grounds to discover, new passages of my destiny.

It feels great to walk along the road blessed by the sun one last time. Children are running in the street while playing with leaves, noisy and cheerful. I tried to guess which of them will be lucky like I never was. Young women are chatting, rolling over the leaves by stroller wheels. I smiled and thought, maybe some of these love gifts will be remade into pure gold.

Flying inside my thoughts, I almost crashed into the door. This time I'm not going to let it slam the case.

The great ones are looking at me. With a sigh, I lifted my eyes on them in return.

I quickly changed my shoes and went upstairs, found the right door and knocked on a half-erased number.

I didn't have time to remember him – he was here. I heard breath behind my back.

– Good afternoon, – Iosif chewed his words with a lean face.

– Let me, – he aimed a key to the keyhole. I moved and right after that he flashed into the room like a lightning, like he did before.

– Alexander Kamnev? – Iosif turned on the light.

– Yes, – I got stuck in the entrance for a moment.

– That's why I thought the last name was familiar. – He laughed. – Oh well, let's begin. Kamnev, tell me, what is the reason why you want to study?

I cursed myself in my mind again and felt regret from coming into the hallway to my mother. I didn't think about any reason from summer, so I decided to give him the very first thought I made just so he didn't have to wait.

– Oh, I want to become great. – I breathed that out, catching a curious look. – A professional whom the world has never seen before. To follow my dreams.

– In your age you'll have to hunt for your dreams. Do you know what price you're going to pay? Give me the case. – Iosif opened it the second I put it on the polised table. – Not everyone can become great. It's a heavy weight, I would say. Think twice.

– Why think? – I believed in my own speech. – I had a brother, and…

– We know, we know. Innokentii Palych. – It seemed he swallowed a good half of his words in desperate attempt to pronounce them all. – Say no more. – I shivered a bit. – Oh well, – Iosif looked into nowhere, – let's make you great, – he looked into my eyes; his laughter felt like thunder but it didn't last for long. Then he got a stone face again. – Do you know what that is? I got it from your case. – In his hand he held a ridiculous object with four legs.

– Looks like a hunched dog without a head.

– Good suggestion, – Iosif sighed. – Kamnev, it's a shoulder rest. With it you're destined to spend your learning process and further career. – He got the instrument from the pit and put the shoulder rest on it. – I'll tune it and we can begin.

Iosif took an orange box from the pocket of the case. I learned that it was called rosin. Then he grabbed the bow from the table and tightened its hair, polished it with rosin and opened the piano. He plucked the strings and began turning four black things knocked into the head of the instrument. Some time later he began pressing the piano keys in an order I didn't know, using the bow with his right hand, his left hand was busy turning little gears next to his chin. There was a fairytale-ish double sound.

– Watch this, Kamnev. There are four strings, G, D, A, E, – he plucked each. – Tuned in fifths, you'll get it soon. Understood?

I got confused.

– G, A… D, E?

– Well, almost. Replace A and D with one another. – Iosif smiled. – Would you look at that. I didn't even almost have to use the pegs, – he threw under his nose. – Kamnev, come here. – I did, and he placed the proud lady onto my shoulder by the shoulder rest. – Put your chin here. Hold it like this, yes.

– That's not comfortable. I have to keep my jaw open, – I replied in the process.

– You'll get used to it, rookie. Now put your right hand right here, pluck with your index finger.

For the first time strings sang under my hand, even though it sounded as if a kindergartener decided to touch a harp.

He felt my fear with his insides again.

– Why so unsure? Let me show you how you do it.

He stole the instrument right from under my jaw and reflected my actions like a false mirror, swinging slightly and plucking one string at a time like a fool. I didn't pay too much attention to this mockery; then it seemed very just. I understood I was very narrow in this industry and I needed to see what I did wrong.

– Put it on the table, Kamnev.

Iosif gave me a pencil.

– Iosif Seraphimovich, what's that for?

I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

– Is everyone in your family as stupid as you?! – His face got filled with blood and cooled down as quick as it got hot. He stared into the floor and went silent for a few seconds, then exhaled calmly, – first you learn it on a pencil. This is an important step, Kamnev.

I grabbed the writing instrument.

– Here you put your thumb, your middle and ring finger here, you feel the weight with your pinky. – I obeyed. – Do you feel how heavy it is?

– I do, Iosif Seraphimovich.

I felt nothing.

Someone knocked at the door.

– Come in! – Iosif yelled cheerfully.

An angel came to us from the heavens. From the first glance I could say she was about fifteen. A light dress, rusty hair gathered into a ponytail, a pretty-looking hard case.

The teacher tapped on his little apprentice's shoulder and took a couple of sheets from underneath a pile of books.

– Hello, Iosif Seraphimovich. – She smiled.

– Hello. Would you like to play this today? It's just for your level.

While observing this gentle scene, I cursed myself inside and tried to give my pinky strength just to feel the weight of the pencil.

– Iosif Seraphimovich… Why is such a grown person learning to play?

He turned around to look at me.

– Don't worry, he isn't here for long.

I felt chills on my back. Iosif laughed again, then coughed and turned his eyes away. While he popped his knuckles in awkwardness, I noticed that they shivered frequently. How could I forget about his hands?

The heavenly creature opened her oblong box, and I heard magical double sounds again. Iosif put the sheets on a weird stand and let his apprentice make a beautiful song flow. Inside I moaned, dying; I knew I'd never play like this. I thought about just one thing – they're blessed, the children who wake up to copy scales.

Iosif's voice returned me from the oblivion.

– What are you looking at, Kamnev? You'll do it yourself now.

– Now?! Iosif Seraphimovich, are you sure?

– Don't worry, – he handed me the bow, – you'll stroke the open strings, then I'll show you a simple piece.

I was so ashamed to hold the thick end of the bow and obey my teacher. Iosif mocked me again, and I understood why. Then he gave me my colossus back and began naming notes one by one.

– D, D, A, A, now here with your index finger. No, Kamnev, that's too high. Yes, there we go. G, G, F, F, E, E, D.

I felt like a baby bird stolen from the nest. Like a child not knowing alphabet who got forced to read. The bow became my personal devil. Before this moment I never found myself in a situation where I had to hold my fingers this way, the way seemed terribly uncomfortable and ridiculous. I could compare Iosif to my executioner, myself to an unlucky throne heir, fallen under the revolution, waiting for his head to jump off his shoulders.