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would be ten times better than the first。 She would see for
herself what worked best and bring those features into her own
playing。〃
Reiko paused for a moment； observing the glowing end of her
cigarette。 I went on eating my grapes without a word。
〃I know I have a pretty good sense for music； but she was better than
me。 I used to think it was such a waste！ I thought；
；if only she had started out with a good teacher and received the
proper training； she'd be so much farther along！' But I was wrong。 She
wasn't the kind of child who could stand proper training。 There just
happen to be people like that。 They're blessed with thismarvellous
talent； but they can't make the effort to systematize it。 They end up
squandering it in little bits and pieces。 I've seen my share of people
like that。 At first you think they're amazing。 They can sight…read some
terrifically difficult piece and do a damn good job playing it all the
way through。 You see them do it； and you're overwhelmed。 You think；
〃I could never do that in a million years。' But that's as far as it goes。
They can't take it any further。 And why not？ Because they won't put in
the effort。 They haven't had the discipline pounded into them。 They've
been spoiled。 They have just enough talent so they've been able to
play things well without any effort and they've had people telling them
how great they are from an early age； so hard work looks stupid to
them。 They'll take some piece another kid has to work on for three
weeks and polish it off in half the time； so the teacher assumes they've
put enough into it and lets them go on to the next thing。 And they do
that in half the time and go on to the next piece。 They never find out
what it means to be hammered by the teacher； they lose out on a
crucial element required for character building。 It's a tragedy。 I myself
had tendencies like that； but fortunately I had a very tough teacher； so
I kept them in check。
〃Anyway； it was a joy to teach her。 Like driving down the highway in
a high…powered sports car that responds to the slightest touch …
responds too quickly； sometimes。 The trick to teaching children like
that is not to praise them too much。 They're so used to praise it doesn't
mean anything to them。 You've got to dole it out wisely。 And you can't
force anything on them。 You have to let them choose for themselves。
And you don't let them rush ahead from one thing to the next： you
make them stop and think。 But that's about it。 If you do those things；
you'll get good results。〃
Reiko dropped her cigarette butt on the floor and stamped it out。 Then
she took a deep breath as if to calm herself。
〃When her lessons ended； we'd have tea and chat。 Sometimes I'd show
her certain jazz piano styles … like； this is Bud Powell； or this is
Thelonious Monk。 But mostly she talked。 And what a talker she was！
She could draw you right in。 As I told you yesterday； I think most of
what she said was made up； but it was interesting。 She was a keen
observer； a precise user of language； sharp…tongued and funny。 She
could stir your emotions。 Yes； really； that's what she was so good at …
stirring people's emotions；moving you。 And she knew she had this
power。 She tried to use it as skilfully and effectively as possible。 She
could make you feel whatever she wanted … angry or sad or
sympathetic or disappointed or happy。 She would manipulate people's
emotions for no other reason than to test her own powers。 Of course； I
only realized this later。 At the time； I had no idea what she was doing
to me。〃
Reiko shook her head and ate a few grapes。
〃It was a sickness；〃 she said。 〃The girl was sick。 She was like the
rotten apple that ruins all the other apples。 And no one could cure her。
She'll have that sickness until the day she dies。 In that sense； she was a
sad little creature。 I would have
pitied her； too； if I hadn't been one of her victims。 I would have seen
her as a victim。〃
Reiko ate a few more grapes。 She seemed to be thinking of how best
to go on with her story。
〃Well； anyway； I enjoyed teaching her for a good six months。
Sometimes I'd find something she said a little surprising or odd。 Or
she'd be talking and I'd have this rush of horror when I realised the
intensity of her hatred for some person was pletely irrational； or it
would occur to me that she was just far too clever； and I'd wonder
what she was really thinking。 But； after all； everyone has their flaws；
right？ And finally； what business was it of mine to question her
personality or character？ I was just her piano teacher。 All I had to care
about was whether she practised or not。 And besides； the truth of the
matter is that I liked her。 I liked her a lot。
〃Still； I was careful not to tell her anything too personal about myself。
I just had this sixth sense that I'd better not talk about such things。 She
asked me hundreds of questions … she was dying to know more about
me … but I only told her the most harmless stuff； like things about my
childhood or where I'd gone o school； stuff like that。 She said she t
wanted to know more about me； but I told her there was nothing to
tell： I'd had a boring life； I had an ordinary husband； an ordinary child；
and a ton of housework。 〃But I like you so much；' she'd say and look
me right in the eye in this clingy sort of way。 It sent a thrill through
me when she did that … a nice thrill。 But even so； I never told her more
than I had to。
〃And then one day … a day in May； I think it was … in the middle of her
lesson； she said she felt sick。 I saw she was pale and sweating and
asked if she wanted to go home； but she said she thought she'd feel
better if she could just lie down for a while。 So I took her … almost
carried her … to the bedroom。
We had such a small sofa； the bed was the only place she could lie
down。 She apologized for being a nuisance； but I assured her it was no
bother and asked if she wanted anything to drink。 She said no； she just
wanted me to stay near her； which I said I'd be glad to do。
〃A few minutes later she asked me to rub her back。 She sounded as
though she was really suffering； and she was sweating like mad； so I
started to give her a good massage。 Then she apologized and asked me
if I'd mind taking off her bra； as it was hurting her。 So； I don't know； I
did it。 She was wearing a skin…tight blouse； and I had to unbutton that
and reach behind and undo the bra hooks。 She had big breasts for a
13…year…old。 Twice as big as mine。 And she wasn't wearing any starter
bra but a real adult model； an expensive one。 Of course I'm not paying
all that much attention at the time； and like an idiot I just carry on
rubbing her back。 She keeps apologizing in this pitiful voice as if she's
really sorry； and I keep telling her it's OK it's OK。〃
Reiko tapped the ash from her cigarette to he floor。 By then I had t
stopped eating grapes and was giving all my attention to her story。
〃After a while she starts sobbing。 〃What's wrong？' I ask her。
〃Nothing；' she says。 〃It's obviously not nothing；' I say。 〃Tell me the
truth。 What's bothering you？' S o she says； 〃I just get l