to come to see you for your birthday. I have two months for writing and studio work only for the Shakespeare soundtrack. No concerts.”
No concerts! What a relief“, he thought.
“See you then, Paul!”
“See you.”
1 Chapter Two
New York
The concert schedule was tight, and Paul hardly had the time to breath and relax. They started off in London, flew to Milan, Vienna, Zurich and finally Berlin. The German capital was covered by a thick coat of snow when the plane from Zurich touched ground in Tegel. Paul tried to see Berlin as any other destination before, but he could not ignore the fact that it was different for him. He saw the face of the woman who had prophesied his visit in SoHo not more than a month ago in front of his inner eye. He shook his head, strongly feeling the need to get rid of this vision, but the more he resisted it, the more alive it became. Her eyes glowed with an understanding that he had never seen in anyone before. Without expressing it in words her whole appearance suggested to him that she knew. But what? What did this woman know? His future? He was unable to say why, but he sensed that she knew more than that; something deeper and more profound, some hidden secret. And as much as he vainly tried to figure out what the strange meeting that night in SoHo had really meant, he could not fight down his fears. Yes, he had feared the woman and her self-assurance. And even though she had been able to foresee his future, he distrusted her. He felt cold and unlocked his seat belt when the aircraft had finally reached its parking position. Phil looked at him and Paul smiled.
“Ready for the ice-cold eastern wind?”
“Absolutely!” Phil gave him a brave look.
After his awkward confession, Phil had been more reserved than Paul had ever known him before. Paul had tried to cover the fissure in their inner bond with amplified friendliness. But if he was truly honest with himself, he had to admit that the gap could not be repaired. Paul did not want to judge his friend's feelings nor hurt them, but jealous admiration was a reaction he had not learned to deal with. It made him feel insecure. He had always assumed that he and Phil met as equals, but now he felt forced to realize that Phil must have had a hidden notion of inferiority from him for many, many years. Paul tried to avoid being alone with Phil now, but he was struck by a cold and stabbing pain with every act of avoidance.
The rental bus needed more than two hours to get through the heavy snowfall that had recommenced soon after they had landed to bring them to their Hotel close to Kurfürstendamm. Paul stared through the window and heard the same questions replay in his mind. Why Berlin? What is so important about this city?
He was tired and fell on his bed as soon as he had locked the door of his room. When Phil called to ask if he wanted to have dinner with him, he turned the invitation down.
“I am so tired, Phil. I have to sleep. I want to be well-rested for the rehearsal tomorrow.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just tired. See you at breakfast", he lied when he once again felt the pain of avoidance.
Paul stared into the darkness. He could sense that something was waiting for him here in Berlin, some important experience or some revelation. But what kind of experience? What kind of revelation? It was not his first time in Berlin. He had been here at least five or six times. Why now?
He drifted into a deep unconscious sleep, where dreams had no space to enter. Only when the city started to wake up again, his sleep became lighter and allowed subconscious images to form. Paul was used to intense dreaming, but this morning's dream was different from anything he had ever experienced before. He saw himself in the bar in SoHo across from the clairvoyant woman again. He experienced the same situation in the dreaming state now that had actually happened in the waking state a few weeks ago. But now Paul felt much calmer, much clearer, more aware; he was able to perceive details that he had missed during the actual nightly encounter. He perceived the woman´s face, her fairly tanned skin, and green eyes, the freckles on her nose and cheeks. Now, more then that night, he was aware of her beauty and a strange kind of glow that made her skin shimmer in a golden color. Paul saw her delicate fingers and felt her touch on his hands like a burning fire of energy that was almost too strong for him to bear. He re-experienced her insisting speech and while she was talking with a slight accent, which he had not noticed that night, she felt more familiar than anyone he had ever met in waking life. Not only she knew him, he suddenly realized, but he too knew her better than any person around him. Her eyes did not let go of his and she said: "You are not the man you think you are! Awake!" His heartbeat accelerated rapidly, he started sweating and a strong energetic pain ran through his spine and his legs when he woke up tossing and turning around, hitting his head on the night table.
The next minute he became freezing cold and forced himself to get up, get into the shower and let the warm water dispel the shadows of the dream. But the water could not cast the echo of the woman´s intriguing voice out of his mind's ear. "Awake!" she commanded and he knew that she did not intend to wake him up from his night's sleep.
When he walked into the breakfast room, most of the orchestra members were already eating. Phil got up and waved. Paul said hello to everybody he passed by on his way to Phil´s table. Some of the younger musicians must have had a late night. They looked quite tired.
“Are you ready for rehearsal in twenty minutes?” he asked with a broad smile. Most of them nodded over-ambitiously.
“You look relaxed”, Phil opened their conversation.
Paul did not show his surprise. “Yeah, I had a good, deep sleep and you?”
“Fine. Just had a sandwich and went for a walk in the snow. There is something about this town that I really love.”
“Yes, I think I know what you mean. Berlin is special.”
Paul had a French breakfast, a coffee, and a croissant only, and left the breakfast room early clapping his hands at the exit to attract everybody´s attention.
“Rehearsal begins in 10 minutes in Senator Hall. Please, be on time!"
He went straight to the hotel´s largest conference hall that Emerson had rented for two additional rehearsals before the final rehearsal in the concert house at Gendarmenmarkt. Of course, the orchestra knew its program, but it was important to practice the entire concert more than once at any new city. The musicians had to adapt to climate, atmosphere, jet lag and many other phenomena of travel. And the more time they had to fuse music and the quality of the individual environment the better. And, furthermore, it was necessary to have a daily routine, no matter where, to keep them alert and connected with the music and the conductor.
The instruments had been brought to the practice hall. Yet, Paul was alone when he entered the large room. He looked around and tried to catch the special atmosphere of the place taking a deep calm breath. The hotel was built in the twenties of the past century, a historic building with high ceilings and numerous architectural characteristics of that time. It reminded him of his apartment building in New York.
He walked over to the conductor's desk and went through the score. Every note appeared as a sound in his mind's ear the instant his eyes fell on it. He remembered the night when he had written this suite. He had gone to bed early, worried about his separation from Kaya, feeling severely injured by her emotionally. The suite played in his mind and calmed it, but at the same time his emotions – the pain and the guilt - were stirred by it and grew more agitated, indomitable. Kaya had been right. He had hurt her and Sean first, maybe irreparably. It was only equitable that he was hurt, too, by her reaction and by the effects of his own decision. When he had left L.A. for New York he did not know that he would have to pay with the cruel currency of loneliness.
The ensemble entered the hall in small chatting groups and Paul woke up from the strong memories inseparably tied to the composition. “Do you want the audience to feel your hurt”, an inner voice asked him a second too late, because his entire attention was now drawn to his colleagues and the intense practice of today´s rehearsal. Before he was totally consumed by the work, he only vaguely noticed his