The band wanders onto the stage following a break and begins to tune. At the bar, a gentleman smiles as he turns his head toward the band.  In front of him, a gin and tonic slowly melts as he squeezes his lime garnish to top it off.

 And the band plays...

 

Stardust

 

Though I dream in vain,

In my heart it will remain

My stardust melody,

The memory of love’s refrain.

 

 

 

Everything reminds me of her, and music most of all. Not just this song, though I would be a fool not to know it looms above the others.

 

I used to play here, you know. Piano mostly, but I sang occasionally. Thursday nights with a trio.. I do miss those days. But now I... now I am merely a patron. Merely. In those days, I had someone to play for. Someone to come home to. In those days, love was the center of my life. True, I had my music, but I wrote it for her. I played it for her. Is it trite to say she was my muse? That she was the god that gave life to whatever music flowed through me? That I was merely her vessel? Merely an empty vase into which she poured the waters of inspiration? Her love?

Merely.

By the time I came here as a customer, she had left me far behind. Left me with nothing but a memory, and a small cache of songs she had inspired while we were together. Songs that dogged me day and night, and one more than any other-   a melody that invaded my mind and refused to leave. An earworm of my own devise that brought her to mind with every note. Brought back the pain. The loss. A melody that haunted me through my waking hours, haunted me as I tossed in my bed,  unable to sleep. Attacked my mind as I tried to practice, unable to focus for the melody that would not leave. Like so much of the work I created while she was with me, it was a good song. A beautiful song. A melody to stay with you weeks after you last heard it. A song I could no longer play, but which played on repeat inside my head, with never a moment’s peace. I knew this place was cursed, of course. How could I not? I had spent far too much time at this bar making conversation over the breaks. Talked too many times with the owner. They hid nothing from me. But I was here, and I was desperate to forget her forever. To forget the pain of losing her. And to forget, once and for all, that damned song that would not leave my head. It was not the life changing choice so many make here. At least, I did not think so at the time. At the time, I merely wished to be done with the melody that would not leave my head. the melody she had inspired. the melody that brought her to mind with every note.

 

Merely.

 

I spoke with the owner personally about my desire to abandon the melody forever, and he told me nothing in the world was easier. He did say that, although my drinks were always on the house, that he had a business to run, that that my request could not be honored for free. That as long as I could pay, he could help me. I asked him how much, but he said I merely need to play for him. That I merely needed to join the trio on stage and play my song one last time, Merely play the song, and I could abandon it forever.

Merely.

 

The trio was all smiles, happy to see me playing again, making Casablanca jokes and telling me one more performance of that dreaded song was probably just what I needed.

 

That’s when I noticed. For the first time that night, I noticed her sitting in the dance hall. Sitting in her usual spot. The usual spot at her favorite cafe table, just off stage right, and watching us quietly over her predictable vodka gimlet. I froze. I told the trio I couldn’t go through with it. They continued to joke as they tuned up and reorganized the set list. Frank, the bassist said with a laugh, sounding as much like Bogart as he could, “Go ahead and play it.” “If she can stand it, so can you.”

 

Finding what little resilience I still had with her sitting across the room from me, I joked back with him and prepared to play. I warmed up with just the melody itself, before leading into the song in earnest. And the band joined in. It was, perhaps, the best rendition we had ever played together. Sadly, it would be the last.

 

I joined Frank for a cigarette after the set, and he asked if I was alright.

 

I asked what he meant, and he said that I seemed off my game. Did I need a longer break?

 

I looked back to see if she was still there, wondering if I could dare face her. With the band quiet, and nothing but the general mass of talking filling the bar, I looked about to see if I could find her, as the general hubbub filled my head. Near the back of the hall, I saw her walking away. Again. Walking away as she had before, this time for good. It was then that I noticed the song was gone at last. For the first time in memory, my mind was clear. No melody dogged me. The music had ceased to trouble my mind. At last, I was free of that song, and with it, perhaps, the memory of her forever. I turned away from where I had last seen the back of her cocktail dress and walked back to the piano. Not until I reached the stage, however, did I realize that it was not only the melody that had left my mind. The rest of the music in my head was gone as well. My constant companion since childhood, the music that hadfollowed me everywhere throughout my life had slipped away. Not only had I lost that cursed melody, but I had also lost the rest of my music. Everything she had ever inspired, and more, was gone.  All my music turned to naught but silence and background noise. I took my place at the piano as the band began, merely putting my fingers where I knew they belonged. Perfunctorily. It was like sitting at a typewriter. My fingers knew where to go but were no longer connected to my heart. My music was gone. All of it. I had abandoned the cursed melody, the memory I couldn’t bear, but I was no longer a musician. Not really. I had Transformed from an artist into a machinery operator. My music was gone. I could never again be more than merely a piano player.

 

Merely.