Page 5 of The Night the Stars Went Dark

“I knew you could do it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Penny Girl, you are going to be a star.” He spun us in a circle before placing me on the ground. “Let’s go celebrate.”

I grabbed my music bag along with the papers we’d be given to finish filling out my information and we walked back out on to the street. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I didn’t think anything could make me any happier.

“Thanks for doing this.” My dad smiled at a man as we walked through the doors of Carnegie Hall. The lights were turned down, and as we approached a set of doors, they slowly became brighter.

“No problem, Mr. Vaughn.” He winked as he disappeared.

“Follow me.” Dad motioned at me as he stepped through a side door. We meandered down a long hallway, and then he held open another door and let me go ahead of him. It was that moment that made this day the best in life thus far. My feet slowly shuffled forward, and I stared at the massive orchestra hall in front of me. I was on stage. The stage. The one place I promised myself I would be when I made it.

“Close your eyes.” Dad stood behind me. “Can you hear them?”

Silence surrounded us.

“Hear what?” I whispered.

“The great musicians who have played here. Every time you leave a stage, you leave part of yourself behind. Bits and pieces of who you were, who you are, are left in the air. Can you hear them now?” He leaned down beside my ear.

I nodded. “Yes.” I stood there for quite some time in the silence, just letting the weight of the moment surround me. It was something I’d learn to appreciate more as I got older, but it was these times that bonded my dad and me. We shared something special that you couldn’t really put into words, but music… music defined us; music explained us; it made us.

Chapter 3

Aspen- age 13

My life began to revolve around practice schedules. It was normal, and I really didn’t notice that other kids my age were different. I’d always lived this way, so I didn’t ask for things like school dances, or ballet lessons, or riding my bike with friends. My days consisted of going to school, coming home to practice, and going to bed. I had time to unwind, but music occupied my every thought. If I wasn’t playing, I was looking for the next piece I wanted to learn. I’d sit under the tree in our back yard and spend hours searching through my father’s music books. I wanted a challenge, and the bigger the challenge the bigger the thrill. I was past the simple melodies and working toward complex chords and tempos that rivaled professionals. My dad told me at one point that he would need to hire someone to teach me because I’d soon surpass him. I knew that would never happen. He was my dad, and I knew he was the best. To say I was better would be a lie.

“Aspen?” my mom called from the kitchen window. “Dinner will be ready soon.” She yawned and dropped her chin.

“I’ll be in in a minute,” I replied as I scanned the page I was on. This piece looked promising, and I couldn’t wait to show my dad.

I stacked the books and carried the pile inside. Mom was in front of the stove, stirring something. She seemed tired. She’d been really tired lately, but I hadn’t asked why. “Do you need any help?” I placed the stack of books on the piano bench.

“I’m ok. Just go get cleaned up.” She motioned to the stairs that led to the bedrooms. I smiled before rushing upstairs. As I rounded the corner, Dad came in the front door.

“I picked out something for the summer recital.” I grinned as I barreled up the stairs.

“Can’t wait to see what it is.” He laughed as I disappeared. I could hear muffled voices as he talked to Mom, but I didn’t know what they were saying.

I happily washed my hands before skipping down the steps and making my way to the kitchen table. “What’s for dinner?” I glanced around. It smelled really good.

“Have a seat.” Dad motioned to my chair. He brought the pot from the stove over and set it in the middle of the table. After helping Mom sit down, he began serving us.

“What’s wrong?” Genuine concern filled my voice. Mom sighed and Dad rubbed her shoulder. “I’m not eating until you tell me.” I crossed my arms over my chest. I may be mature for my age, but I’m still a teenager.

“Your mom went to the doctor last week because of how tired she’s been, and they ran some tests.” He glanced at Mom and placed his hand on hers, squeezing it in the process. “She has a problem with her heart.”

“But they can fix it, right?” I sat up straighter.

Mom and Dad looked at each other. “Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?” Panic set in. I started sweating, bouncing in my seat, trying anything to make this a dream. I needed to wake up.

“Your mom was sick a lot as a little girl. One of those illnesses weakened her heart. We didn’t know this until now. Turns out, it has been working hard, too hard, all these years, and now it just can’t anymore.”

“What does that mean?” I started to cry. I could feel the hot tears leaking from my eyes. I swiped them away as my lip quivered.

“It means she needs a new one.” I stood, shoving my chair back, and rushed over to fall into my mother’s arms.

“This isn’t real.” I sobbed.

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