What was the soundtrack to this scene, to these 30 minutes of solo shooting outside his old school, after his own practice and during his brother’s?
It was faint at first, and at first I thought it was just in my imagination. From somewhere far off it seemed, I heard “La donna e mobile.” It might have been in my head, I reasoned, because Rigoletto is being performed this weekend and I have been trying to work out how we can go (we can’t, unfortunately).
But no, not in my head. I wondered if someone was singing – rehearsing in the church, maybe? Because all I heard was voice and no instruments at first. The ball bounced, the boy asked me to watch him, and the music kept playing.
I finally got out of the car and walked in the direction of the music. Ah. As I neared it, I could tell that the music was coming from another car parked across the lot – the listener must have been immersing himself in the sonic bliss because it was loud and it his windows were up. I walked back to my own car and continued watching the boy shoot.
The music suddenly grew louder and I glanced over to see the listener standing outside of his car, the door open. The aria -I don’t remember which – reached its peak, held that high note, and finished with a flourish. The listener slammed the car door and walked to the church.
“Mom! Watch me!”
So I did.