Page Turner — “Necessary Stories” from The Jerusalem Report

Haim Watzman

Elaine had taken the grandkids camping in the cemetery, so Roger was alone for the night. He didn’t like being without Elaine, but he didn’t like having Danny, Aviva, and tiny Gur sleep over either. He was resolved to make good use of the hour or so left before he’d get drowsy and head upstairs to bed.

drawing by Avi Katz

     drawing by Avi Katz

A cool breeze from the living room window was blowing on his neck. A nearly full moon was serially obscured and revealed by long, dark clouds that hung low in the sky. He knew this not from looking out the window but from watching the blurred reflection of this celestial game of cat and mouse on the burnished walnut surface of the Steinway baby grand that stood in the far corner of the room, just before it opened into the dining area. The piano was far too big for the space, a fact he had been tactfully reminding Elaine of on and off for the last 23 years, since they moved into this bungalow walking distance from campus. But she would not part with it, and on evenings like this, it was certainly a lovely feature of the room.

He had just opened Karin Rosolio’s article on his ThinkPad when he heard a page turn.

Read morePage Turner — “Necessary Stories” from The Jerusalem Report

Miss Violet’s Piano — “Necessary Stories” from The Jerusalem Report

Haim Watzman

   illustration by Avi Katz

drawing by Avi Katz

“It’s the piano.” Karin shivered. The music had woken her from an unremembered nightmare. “Someone is playing the piano.”

Or one-eyed her from under his pillow. His muffled voice sounded like it was reaching her from a cave below the floor.

“Call the police.”

My piano,” Karin said. “Someone is playing my piano.” She raised herself on her elbows, felt a creak in her lower back, and looked down on her research assistant.

Or turned over on his side so that he could use both eyes. “That’s impossible. There are two of us in the apartment. Of the two of us, only you know how to play the piano. And you are here. Ergo, no one is playing the piano.”

An arpeggio sounded in the treble, and was then taken up by the bass.

“That is,” Or suggested, “unless a burglar, about to climb the basement window with his loot, was seized by an irresistible desire to play … what is he playing?”

Read moreMiss Violet’s Piano — “Necessary Stories” from The Jerusalem Report