Minds are wonderful playgrounds. I am performing my morning ritual (!) of sipping dark coffee, listening to one of my recorded nine hundred odd tunes on the laptop, and playing games. My mind relaxes and wanders smoothly over a long life of dodging important events and obligations. That’s a joke.
Andres Segovia (there’s an accent mark over the ‘e’ in ‘Andres’. I can’t make it happen. Sorry. It’s ‘AndrEs’) I think of Carlos Montoya and then my mind takes the express to this story below. I wrote it and I created the woman after my friend Rae.
Oh, yeah. It’s been drizzling a lovely rain outside. The gardens are getting a much needed wetting down and Rocinante is getting a free wash.
Please be kind and play fair today. Stay involved always. Peace out. G. M. Goodwin 12 August 2017.
AIR GUITAR AND ASSASSINATION
The three came together, in 1982, for an evening of flamenco guitar at Jordan Hall in Boston. If I count myself we are four. A quartet at Jordan Hall. The others were Carlos Montoya, Christopher Joseph O’Reilly, and Neptuna Fiorella. I am Harry Goodtry, a semi-retired merchant seaman. I live about a mile from Jordan Hall in a rented studio apartment on the seedy north slope of Beacon Hill; the old West End neighborhood of Boston. I’d walked over to Huntington Avenue to see this concert featuring the world famous flamenco guitarist Carlos Montoya. An added layer of entertainment was added to the evening’s performance that I was not expecting. I had a good view of the show from my balcony seat above the audience to the right of the stage.
Carlos Montoya is in his eighties, still capable of performing in large venues. He plays an acoustic guitar while seated in a straight back chair center stage front. He is only about a dozen feet away from the front row of seats and the house lights remain up during the whole performance. The people in the front few rows can see Montoya in great detail and he can see them just as clearly.
Christopher Joseph O’Reilly is a young man from Boston; Jamaica Plain to be precise. He is attending alone and he has procured a seat in the front row directly in front of Montoya. O’Reilly is a guitar aficionado and has pipe dreams of traveling to Sweden to attend one of the first Air Guitar World Championships. He is going as a spectator with hopes to discover enough to practice and compete in the future. He senses that the world is his oyster and his future is so bright that he needs sunglasses. In fact he wears sunglasses all of the time and has let his hair grow long and it is streaked pink and blue. The young man has dropped out of high school and lives on the streets. He conveniently shows up at his parent’s home in JP to score a dinner and get a monetary handout. Christopher has arrived at Jordan Hall to study the famous Carlos Montoya’s playing style.
Neptuna Fiorella is the least known person in the audience at Jordan Hall. She is an undercover asset for any number of foreign agencies. She is a highly skilled assassin. She lives in Boston and regularly attends music events here and at Symphony Hall located just a block away. Her career began in Mexico City fifteen years earlier when she was a teenager on a church sponsored trip to do missionary work in the mountains surrounding the DF. She was a rebellious young woman. Fifteen years old and fully aware of the limitations the organization placed on her and her school mates. Neptuna, not her real name, was one of about a dozen youths who abandoned the church while in Mexico City and disappeared into the thin air. She rode the Flecha Roja to Cuernavaca where she hid out in one of the many colonias that make up the city. A man whom she had befriended recruited her into an international cadre of operatives. From there she quickly attained a reputation for loyalty and courage. At six feet tall and polished good looks Neptuna was used primarily as an assassin of high level government administrators. She eventually reached a level of competence that allowed her to be independent of any government. Neptuna in now freelancing and no one knows her whereabouts unless she wants them to. She is sitting directly behind Christopher at the Carlos Montoya concert.
Montoya is introduced by a man in formal wear and then left alone in his chair by the front of the stage. He opens with a flamenco piece that is rather short and the audience begins to warm to him and Montoya relaxes into his body and plays more flamenco. This is when I notice Christopher Joseph O’Reilly. He begins to bob his head slightly and his hands start to move as if he is holding a guitar in his lap. I’m a bit irritated that this guy is not sitting quietly and respectfully still. It gets worse quickly.
Montoya is playing his guitar and I notice that he is observing Christopher Joseph O’Reilly too. My discomfort escalates rapidly. The pink and blue head is shaking now and the young man is actually playing air guitar right there not a dozen feet away from the virtuoso! I’m aghast! Montoya is now focused on him. He can’t take his eyes off this other performance. Others nearby the young man are beginning to take notice. This is when I first become aware of Neptuna Fiorella.
The lovely woman with short black hair is sitting directly behind O’Reilly. She leans forward in her seat and gracefully places her right hand on the nape of the air guitarist’s neck. As she does this her beautiful face comes close to his left ear and she whispers something to him. The lad stops all motion and seems to be listening to Neptuna’s words. He becomes still and his hands relax onto his lap. Neptuna sits back in her seat and immediately the atmosphere in Jordan Hall returns to what is was before the interruption.
I am at once astonished and intrigued by this activity and amazed by the deftness with which the mysterious goddess has diffused the situation. She sits quietly and she is focused on Montoya. It’s as if the scene never occurred. During the remainder of the performance before the intermission Christopher Joseph O’Reilly is very still and makes not one movement. His behavior is perfect.
I take a break during the intermission and when I return to my seat I notice Christopher is still sitting quietly in his front row seat and he remains so for the remainder of the concert. I wonder what it was that Neptuna said to him and I look for her but she must have left during the break. Montoya finishes his performance and the people leave. I go out to Huntington Avenue with the crowd and walk back to my studio apartment on Beacon Hill. Along the way I pick up a pizza on Charles Street. What a lovely evening it’s been.
G. M. Goodwin
16 January 2016
Playing Fair and Being Kind 