“Follow me,” he shouted. “I know a shortcut to the rehearsal hall.”
Once again, Anna had no time to wonder how he had learned about that in such a short time. She picked up her pace and followed Eric down a set of stairs, under a fence, and across an open field. The ground was getting muddier and slipperier from the rain that continued to fall. It was all Anna could do to keep up with Eric and stay upright.
Finally, they arrived at the concert hall and pushed open the door. Before entering, Anna paused and tried as hard as she could to wipe the mud off her boots. But in the end, it didn’t really matter. The unfinished wood floor was already covered in dirt and mud from the carpenters who were still there working on the construction of the hall. Inside, there was an overwhelming smell of paint and turpentine. Anna wrinkled her nose but didn’t have a chance to say anything to Eric. He motioned her to follow him to a spot to the left of the stage. From there, Anna had a full view of the members of the orchestra, including her father.
Mr. Huberman was onstage, poised in front of the conductor’s stand with his arms raised and a baton in his right hand. He had removed his formal jacket and vest, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up above his elbows. “Again, please,” he ordered. “From the beginning of the second page.”
He counted out a few quick beats and then brought his baton up to signal the musicians to begin. But with the sound of the steady rain that was pounding on the tin roof, it was nearly impossible to hear anything. The rain was louder than the drums. On top of that, some water was leaking into the concert hall and dripping onto the musicians. One of the violinists jumped out of her seat as a trickle of water became a stream that poured down onto her. “I cannot play like this,” she moaned. Others chimed in to agree.
Finally, Mr. Huberman laid his baton down on the stand. “It looks as if we will have to adjourn for the day,” he said, rolling the sleeves of his shirt down to his wrists. “There are many things I can control. But the weather is not one of them. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies and gentlemen. I will see you all back here bright and early tomorrow morning. And let us hope that the rain has stopped by then.”
The musicians rose and began to put their instruments back into their cases. Eric ran off to speak to his father. Anna didn’t even notice Mr. Huberman approaching until he was standing next to her.
“I saw you and your young friend come into the hall,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we not allowed to be here?” She was horrified that she might have broken some kind of rule about who could and couldn’t come to the rehearsals. Why didn’t Eric warn me about that?
“Of course, you are welcome to be here. I’m just sorry we couldn’t provide a better rehearsal for you to hear.”
She smiled at him, suddenly shy and uncertain of what to say.
“I don’t think we have been introduced.” He bowed formally. “I am Bronislaw Huberman.”
Anna stood and curtsied. “My name is Anna Hirsch. My father is Avrum Hirsch.” She pointed. “Clarinet.”
“Of course. You are the young lady who wrote to me on behalf of your grandmother.”
He remembers that! “And thank you for everything you’ve done for my family,” Anna blurted out. “If it wasn’t for you …” She didn’t even know how to finish the sentence.
Mr. Huberman brushed aside the comment. “And do you also play the clarinet, Miss Hirsch?”
Anna sighed. “My father has been teaching me. But my clarinet got lost.” She explained about having been sick on the boat and only discovering the missing clarinet when they were unpacking. “I have no idea what happened to it.”
“Oh, that’s a pity. You must be terribly sad about that.”
Anna nodded. She lowered her eyes to the ground, blinking furiously, afraid she might start to cry in front of Mr. Huberman.
“But I know the feeling,” he continued. “My violin has also become lost.”
At that, Anna looked up, wide-eyed. “It has? Where did you lose yours?”
“In America, while I was there for a concert.” He leaned forward and whispered, “I believe someone may have taken it.”
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.”
“And I’m sorry that yours is also missing. Perhaps we will find our lost instruments one day.”
“I hope so.” She said that half-heartedly, as if she didn’t believe it was possible.
“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hirsch. Please come back to the rehearsal hall any time you wish.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.