CODA
At the end, after I’d played Scriabin, Ma Apples said, “Real mysteries are never completely solved. They grow deeper as the years pass. Are you giving up the piano now?”
It wasn’t a question I had been expecting. It hadn’t crossed my mind. Did I have the courage to continue what I had started? Not knowing where it would lead? Did I have a choice?
Before I had chance to answer, she said, “Good. See you next week.”
As I stood to leave, she added, “The battle’s won, Joe Knight, but not the war. That, I’m afraid, has only just begun.”
I walked home, wondering if she really was a witch. Perhaps I would never know for sure. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Or maybe it did. Maybe that was one of those mysteries she was talking about. What if everything that had happened had been nothing more t
