Monty's Mom asked what everyone in the courtchyard asked. "What are you doing with your mother's apartment?"
(actually it was more like "whatcha gonna do wit ya motha's apartment?" note: the "t" is silent)
I gave the usual answer about renting and the piano.
"You still play?"
No. I had put my foot down at 13 and refused to play anymore. If I was going to be forced to study music, go to music school and attend the music department at the School for the Performing Arts for violin, I wasn't also going to study the piano. In a rare nod to my individualization, Florence agreed.
I never liked it, I told Monty's Mom.
"Well," she said, "You were a rebellious one."
I was? I had played with Monty when we were little little but like most of the neighbors in the courtchyard it never really felt like anyone knew me, just of me as I ran past in a game of tag.
"Oh yeah. You were power to the people. I mean it was the 60's. But yeah, you were. You were little, too. Yeah. Power to the people."
