Over seven months before the birth of Ahrella T’srha, llhaesa and M’traliel began their concert tour in an unexpected location – the Sugarhouse in Henna.
Seating a modest 100, they chose this as a trial run for a few reasons: to try out their new material before a live and neutral audience, to get used to playing before an Arrkarharan crowd, and as a gesture of kindness to Jeremy Thomas, the always gracious and effervescent owner of the Sugarhouse and accompanying Forest Lake Inn.
Early on the day they were to perform, their newly selected road crew were in the Sugarhouse before it opened, carefully tuning the baby grand piano played by the house pianist during the hours of six to ten pm.
Llhaesa had exacting standards for the calibration of her favoured musical instrument, though she was never overbearing or crass in her requirements. Quite the contrary, she was patient and nurturing, teaching her particular idiosyncrasies and preferences to those who performed the task. To them, she was the ultimate employer, and though new staff, each already felt a strong sense of loyalty to, and admiration for, llhaesa.
Llhaesa hired a permanent staff of three, who then would hire others in each city, union workers who would unload their equipment and set up the stage for each show. Khahishra handled coordination of monetary business affairs, working closely with their tour promoter.
The appearance was unpublicised, though rumours throughout the small community, as well as the larger city to its west, abounded. This was a poorly kept secret, not that anyone was attempting to keep a secret.
Llhaesa and M’traliel planned to begin around 11 pm, giving those who chose to dine time to enjoy their dinners without an active and loud musical performance. Their performance would not be to provide background ambiance, it was to grab the complete attention of all those in the building, and satiate their senses with an unforgettable experience.
It was early January; New Year’s was but four days past, and a Friday night, the second busiest night for a restaurant, but the busiest night for a drinking establishment. For the Sugarhouse, Friday night was simply another night in their string of ongoing nightly successes. This was an establishment with an impeccable reputation, for dining, for gathering for refreshments, and Jeremy and his staff protected that reputation zealously.
Llhaesa, Jahrae, Ronnie, Elsrensia, M’traliel, and Khahishra were guests of Jeremy, with dinner reservations for eight. None consumed alcohol, mainly because llhaesa and M’traliel were to perform, and drinking was out. Llhaesa of course, would not drink in any case due to her pregnancy.
Dining liberally on first an appetiser, a salad course, a soup course, dinner, and finally dessert, llhaesa consumed everything put before her, prompting the impressed Ronnie to tease, “Will you remain awake during your performance, ‘essa?”
“I normally lose somewhere around two and a quarter kilograms of weight during more lively concerts, though tonight I will probably be somewhat subdued.”
“Seriously, you lose that much weight from performing?” Ronnie was incredulous.
“Yes, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
Moving things in another direction, Khahishra asked if llhaesa intended to give a classic llhaesa political spiel.
“That depends, Khahi,” llhaesa answered. “If I sense the moment is right and the crowd is willing, I might say a few words.”
“A few words,” Jahrae joined in. “You, llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli, will say but a few words? On what subject would that be, the weather, that today was cold and dry?”
“Actually, such brevity would best be invoked in describing your lovemaking last night, J’har.”
Jahrae pretended a wound struck at her heart, her right hand coming up and resting on her chest above her heart. “It was not my fault I fell asleep, ‘essa.”
“Oh, really? When I fall asleep, you ascribe it to increasing age and diminished capacity for lovemaking.”
“Quite true, though for one of your age you normally do quite well – when given time to properly rest and conserve your energy.”
Llhaesa looked at Jahrae, realising her partner, in her own way, was attempting to motivate and inspire llhaesa. “You wish me to speak tonight, J’har?”
Realising llhaesa sussed out her intent, Jahrae turned serious. “Yes, ‘essa, I do. You have unparalleled skill in doing such things. You get and hold people’s attention, and your views need to be heard.”
Llhaesa shrugged at this observation. She never had to motivate herself to commentary before, so why should she suddenly be in need of such an effort? “Perhaps Jahrae was right in her teasing,” she thought. “I am getting older.”
“’Essa? ‘Essa!” Jahrae called her back to the present. “No, you are not losing your touch, or your convictions. You have other things on your mind, but I suspect once performing, with adrenaline flowing, you will find your voice.
And I should go on the record saying you aren’t losing your touch with me, either.”
“Well now,” Elsrensia began to comment. “Jahrae, are you admitting that llhaesa remains as skilled as ever?”
“It pains me to agree, but yes, and more so.”
“Jahrae, are you feverish?” Khahishra teased, knowing Jahrae never backed off on her comments in the past.
“No, not feverish, I guess I’m just in a rather amorous mood.”
“Ooooooh!” Four others exclaimed in unison, llhaesa excluded.
“’Essa, you are quiet in the wake of Jahrae’s pronouncement. Shall we call off our performance for… other needs?” M’traliel continued where Khahishra left off.
“No, I think we can take care of things right here, right now, right on the table.” Llhaesa retorted.
“Ooooooh!” Four others exclaimed in unison, Jahrae excluded.
“M’traliel, I hate to spoil the anticipation of Jahrae and I publicly boffing, but we have but a half hour before show time. Shall we head out back and prepare?”
The two musicians took their leave to well wishes from the others, llhaesa receiving a kiss and hug from Jahrae, Khahishra matching this effort with M’traliel.
At 2 minutes past eleven, llhaesa and M’traliel emerged from a side room to enthusiastic applause from the capacity crowd. Each played a few notes a few times in succession, checking the tuning of their instruments, limbering up their hands and fingers. After a few minutes, and as a rising clamour rose from the audience, they were ready to play.
M’traliel, playing electric violin, led off with a modest stretch of play, as if casually inviting the crowd into their musical dominion. Llhaesa joined in for the next section, the pace escalating as they played onward, the audience unaware it was being pulled into a faster tempo.
Llhaesa, who handled almost all lead vocals, added her voice via an ethereal chant that slowly but expertly increased in volume. With her piano playing creating a musical representation of chaos, combined with M’traliel’s brilliant violin adding surreality, and llhaesa’s rising voice a call from a dream, chills began to climb up the backs of each person in attendance.
The chanting and chaotic surreality continued for minutes, until it abruptly stepped down to a slower tempo, and the introduction of the first lyrics. Llhaesa sang of one lost in an unknown place, disconnected from their prior life, yearning for the truth, yearning for her past thoughts and past life.
The audience immediately recognised the significance of the lyrics, how llhaesa was sharing a story from her life, and they found themselves lost in the emotion of the song.
The song concluded with the subject bewildered and drifting, the search continuing, this reflected by the lyrics disintegrating back into a chant of despair.
The audience loved it, and showed their appreciation by rising to their feet. None of llhaesa’s family and friends had heard this song before, and Jahrae felt a tear rolling down her face. “Bravo, ‘essa and M’tra!” she yelled out, meaning every word of the comment.
Llhaesa rose from her piano bench, grabbing a bottle of water off the top of the piano as she stepped away to face the audience. Taking a long pull, she finished the 750-millilitre bottle and tossed it fifteen feet into a recycling receptacle, remarking, “I do love the strong stuff, even if it is only water.” That the plastic bottle landed in the recycling receptacle prompted a round of applause.
“Now I have to be careful. One does not drink a bottle of carbonated water as they sing vocals before an audience; else belching becomes part of the lyrics, and that is so not my style!
The first song was, as you surmised, personal. Much of what we will play will reflect some element of M’traliel or my life, or that of someone we know and love. A little less than two months ago, my mum and I stumbled upon a young man in Boston. It turned out he was homeless, cast out of his home by parents who were upset over his admission he might be gay.
While he is not in attendance this evening, this next song was written for Casey.”
Llhaesa returned to the piano, setting and immediately playing, the notes whimsical and childlike, reflecting a child secure in their world. Changing up with a series of notes strung together with short pauses, the song transitioned into uncertainty. Llhaesa added vocals, while M’traliel accented key elements of a sung statement, the vocals of a child still clinging to hope as they coped with life on the streets. The song concluded with the child reclaiming his childhood and sense of security, with family who loves him without condition.
“Thank you!” M’traliel surprisingly acknowledged, llhaesa remaining silent. “The story of this young man is both outrageous and uplifting; there is a happy ending in song and in life.
Llhaesa, and all of us, really, know this is not the result on many occasions. Some estimate that over forty percent of homeless youth in America are lgbt youth.
Now it is unconscionable that we would consign anyone to live on the streets. That there are children who do, that forty percent of children who do are there because someone cannot accept their differences, means we fail.
OK, so you know llhaesa and Jahrae, Ronnie and Elsrensia, and Khahishra and I are gay, and you might think Arrhazon must be a planet where most are gay. That would be false; the percentage of gay folk is no different there than here.
We advocate for all children, for all who are homeless, but you can count on our advocacy not ending there.
Llhaesa and Jahrae recently established a charitable foundation; the proceeds of most of her earnings will go to the foundation to assist those in need, to assist in social change. I add a similar percentage of my earnings to this endeavour, and announce tonight that one special focus will be on homeless children.”
Khahishra, Jahrae, Ronnie, and Elsrensia shot up out of their seats, cheering. Khahishra was aware of M’traliel’s planned revelation, but no one else, not even llhaesa, knew she would speak. M’traliel turned toward llhaesa and saw her friend smiling widely and applauding.
As the applause quieted, llhaesa explained the next song was about the brainwashing of Arrkarharans – and of her – by the former government of her world, expressing her personal sadness that something so sacrosanct could be, would be, manipulated.
Their warm up show proved a total success, and as they drove back to llhaesa and Jahrae’s home, the praise for M’traliel’s unexpected chat was endless. Llhaesa had a musical partner; with M’traliel’s initial foray into commentary, a social activist partner for each concert as well.
