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mozart-and-mocha · 5 years

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Rafaela

Dave and I were at the park near our school on Saturday morning. Last night, after we had both gone home, he texted me and asked if I was free to meet with him and A major. Apparently, she was going to explain to us the mess we found ourselves in.

We sat on a bench, looking around. Across the path from where we sat, there was a bridge that crossed over a river. Behind us, vehicles roared by on the main road. “Are you sure she said she’d meet us here?” I asked Dave. We had been here for nearly 20 minutes, and there was no sign of A major. A talkative, playful, bossy teenager.

“Well, that’s what she said. But we can go back to the entrance of the train station to look for her if you want,” Dave replied. I stood up. “Ok, I’ll do that. I hate sitting around doing nothing.” My ADHD made it hard for me to sit still, and I had already done enough of that just waiting for A major.

When we got to the entrance, there was still no sign of her. “Wow, maybe the train broke down again,” Dave commented. We rode the escalator down to where the gantry was and decided to wait by the convenience store. As we stood outside, trying not to seem suspicious, Dave whispered to me. “Raf, look over there.”

I looked at the direction he nodded, towards the subway map. There she was. But A major wasn’t alone. She was talking to a woman who looked somewhat like her, but an older and more serious version of her. The woman was wearing a black long sleeved shirt, a grey cardigan over it, and a pencil skirt. Her face, although pretty, had worry lines around the eyes. Smooth pale skin, red lipstick, eyes with a wary look in them. She looked exasperated, though she appeared to be trying to hold it together. She was also taller than A major. Meanwhile, A major was sulking, looking even more like a bratty teenager than she already did. A major wore skinny jeans and a t-shirt with her key signature and tonic on it, and she had a jacket wrapped around her waist. I figured that maybe A major didn’t want us to eavesdrop on her argument with the older lady, so I motioned for Dave to feign interest in the snacks near the entrance of the store.

After a few minutes, I glanced in their direction. A major was slowly walking towards the convenience store, but she was looking in the direction of the gantry where the older woman went. Dave touched her arm and she yelped in surprise, turning to face him. “You okay?” Dave asked gently. “You looked like you were having a fight with your mother.” A major rolled her eyes, but she didn’t reply. “Maybe we should walk along the river in the park just next to here,” I suggested. “It will give you time to cool down, and then you can tell us whatever it is you summoned us here for.” I looked at A major, and she nodded slightly. “Yeah, sounds great.”

I wondered what had happened just now. Why was A major so sullen today? It didn’t seem like her at all. But then, I figured nobody would be in a good mood after having an argument with their mother in public. As we walked along the river path, avoiding cyclists and rollerbladers, A major seemed to lighten up. Her shoulders loosened, and the spring gradually returned to her step.

Soon, we were back at the bench Dave and I were sitting at half an hour ago. “Okay, now I’m ready to explain this whole synesthetic thing. But first, let’s get something out of the way. That was NOT my mother I was arguing with at the station.”

I glanced at Dave to see his expression. He saw me looking at him and he shrugged. “Not your mother?” I inquired. I felt like I should know what A major was talking about, considering the time we had spent together in the previous weeks. “Don’t worry, we understand. I’ve had my fair share of arguments with my own mother when I was your age. Uh, I mean, your perceived age. You know what I mean,” I continued.

A major sighed a very dramatic sigh I would normally associate with minor keys, but then it wasn’t like major keys had nothing in common with their relative or parallel minors. “You say you understand, but you don’t,” she said.

“Okay, so stop beating around the bush,” I snapped back, annoyed. I felt a nudge on my right elbow and glanced at Dave, who shook his head silently. Whoops.

“Fine. When I said that wasn’t my mother I was arguing with, I meant it. That was A minor. You know, my parallel minor.” A major looked at the two of us. “I’m surprised you didn’t make the connection, especially as you’re talking to me, the personification of A major.”

“No wonder she looks a lot like you,” Dave commented. “Is it normal for keys to bear similar physical features to their parallel keys?”

I looked at Dave in surprise. “Dave, wh-” I got cut off by A major. “It’s fine. Musicians often get curious when they see a parallel major and minor key together in public. Anyway, it’s complicated. You could say we do look similar, but it’s not because we share genes or anything. It’s like having doppelgängers. A stranger looks very much like you but you’re not related to them. It’s something like that for us, except that A minor and I are parallel keys. If you consider G major and G minor, you’ll find that they don’t quite look similar, despite sharing a tonic.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks. I was kinda curious about that myself. Anyway, so, what is it you wanted to talk to us about?” I was anxious to know what A major had to say that got me out of bed on a Saturday morning when I could have slept in.

A major took a deep breath. “So you know there’s us, the personified keys. In recent years, the government has started cracking down on different art forms, and that includes music. However, because classical music is considered somewhat inaccessible, we’ve been lucky so far. But that’s slowly changing. We personified keys embody different emotional characteristics, and part of that is to help musicians and well, society, in general, to experience the full range of human emotion. But lately, the government has been cracking on the types of music allowed, and they’re using a specific kind of atonal music to drown out emotion and create an emotionally sterile society. And since atonal music is often notated with no key signature, C major and A minor whose key signature has no flats and no sharps are in the best position to combat that. And since A minor and I are parallel keys, that’s why we were, ah, talking about it just now before I met up with you guys.”

I stayed silent, trying to take it all in. “So that’s why A minor looked rather stressed,” Dave noted. A major nodded. “It does take a toll on us. But since A minor is a rather common key signature, she’s doing fine.”

This sounded familiar, as if another key had explained this to me before. The setting where that conversation had taken place was familiar too. It was a while before I remembered it was F minor who had explained this to me, but somehow I managed to forget that until this conversation with A major jogged my memory. F minor. She had been my swimming coach when I was younger, and when she revealed herself to me years later, I wasn’t surprised. F minor is athletic, strong, light on her feet, and resilient, traits I remembered associating with my coach.

“Rafaela?” A major’s voiced jolted me from my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

I looked at A major and smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks. I just remembered that F minor had talked to me about this before.” “Wha-?” Dave exclaimed in surprise before getting interrupted. “I know about that,” said A major. “We keep one another updated on who has met who and has had the necessary conversation. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that whenever possible, C major and A minor send us keys out in groups, preferably groups of three. And they try to group the keys according to our tonics so that our tonics will form a nice triad. Like D minor, F major, and me. Together we form a D minor triad.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out when D major gave me a ride to the train station nearest my home some days ago,” I replied. Dave looked even more surprised. “What?” he exclaimed.

“Dave, I don’t know if you’re aware, but apparently D major is my math teacher. Maybe that’s why D minor, F major, and A major are often seen near our school.” I looked at A major for confirmation.

“You’re right. Generally, like I said, we try to send keys that are related to one another, which means that we rarely send out tritone pairs or diminished triads,” she clarified. “The tension between tritones and the harmony between diminished triads may not work as well.”

“I see.” Dave looked thoughtful, as if he was trying to come up with ideas. “So does the tonality of the keys in a group matter? Like when Raf mentioned how D minor, F major, and you are often grouped together? Would it make a difference if it were F minor instead, or A minor instead of you?”

“Good question,” A major seemed slightly confused. “Tonality doesn’t matter as much as the tonics do, but it’s preferable for the tonality of the root key to match with the triad. The triad near your school is a D minor triad, and the root key is D minor. Also, part of the reason F major is in my group rather than F minor is because F minor is grouped with another set of keys. But whether or not it forms an F minor triad or some other triad, I’m not sure. You’d have to ask C major. He’s in charge of assigning groups.”

“Makes sense,” Dave murmured. I glanced at my watch, and it was nearly noon. “Uh, Raf, do you need to go?,” Dave asked, having noticed me checking the time. “I mean, I have homework. We’re in the international baccalaureate program, how do we not have work to do?” I answered as I stood up. “Sorry,” I added apologetically, looking at A major. She was smiling. “It’s okay, I understand. Oh, and one last thing. I’ve noticed how the two of you act when you’re near D minor, and why that is, I have no idea. But please respect her boundaries, and take care of her if she needs it. She’s had a rather rough time ever since the Baroque era, and I think she’d appreciate the care. Treat her like you would any other friend, but just be cautious. Depression is one heck of a nuisance, and you don’t want to make her feel like she’s dragging you down. I mean, you don’t feel that way when you listen to pieces in D minor, right?”

“I feel either really sorry for her or sad, or angry when I do. Maybe furious. That one aria from Don Giovanni sounds like she’s just snapped,” I said. “You know, the one where the statue of the guy Don Giovanni killed early on in the opera arrives for dinner and drags him to hell.” I noticed Dave shuddering at my words. “Must be awful to be so filled with sadness and rage at the pain you’ve experienced for not just a lifetime but for a few centuries,” Dave said, in a voice that sounded especially thick.

A major rolled her eyes, not for the first time that day. “There you go again,” she sighed. “What?” Dave demanded.

“Never mind. Just promise me you’ll take care of her, okay? I’m her dominant major and this is partially how I look out for her. See you around, kiddos,” A major said, as she walked away, turning back to wave at us.

#personification #rafaela #dave #a minor #f minor #d major #d minor #c major #a major

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