Mozart's Sister (3 page)

I glanced at Papa. He smiled at Wolfie.

I would do the next trick and earn my own smile. The worn
leather satchel in which we carried our music held a length of cloth
we could use to cover the keys. As my brother received his applause
with another grand bow, I retrieved the cloth and stepped toward
the keyboard. But Papa snatched the cloth from my hand like a
magician pulling a scarf from his sleeve.

He made a great show of covering the keyboard, then adjusted
the blue satin pillow Wolfie sat upon in order to reach the keys.
With a sweep of his hand, Papa backed away and bowed to Emperor
Francis.

"Your wish is our command, Your Majesty."

Through the cloth, Wolfie began to play Haydn's Sonata Number 5 in C. The lords and ladies gasped and clapped. We did this all
the time at home, but I was not surprised they thought Wolfie
clever. After all, he was only six. If Papa would let me play one of
the really difficult songs, I'd let them see what five additional years
of lessons had taught me.

Without warning, Wolfie stopping playing. He looked left, then right, as if in search of something. "Where is Herr Wagenseil? They
said he would be here."

Silence enveloped the room as everyone stared at Wolfie, then
glanced uneasily at one another. Mama looked horrified, and I
could feel my own face growing warm. Wolfie hadn't learned when
to speak and when to keep silent.

Papa stepped forward, his face and neck a deepening red against
the white lace of his jabot. "Forgive him, Your Majes-"

The empress laughed and snapped her fingers. "Summon Herr
Wagenseil at once!"

The room buzzed with low whispers as two footmen hurried
out. Within minutes a man with a long, wavy wig entered and
bowed grandly before the emperor and empress.

"Well, court composer," said the empress to Herr Wagenseil,
"our young Mozart has requested your presence." She extended a
hand toward Wolfie, who was sitting at the clavier.

Herr Wagenseil raised an eyebrow but, with a bow to Her
Majesty, moved toward Wolfie-who scooted over on the bench,
making room for him. The composer sat next to my brother, his
smile uncertain, his eyes flitting across the audience. There was a
hint of disapproval in his expression, as if he did not completely
regard his summons with pleasure.

"Well, young Mozart," the man said, "what shall I play for you?"

"Oh no, sir," Wolfie replied. "I am going to play one of your
concertos, and you must turn the pages for me."

The room was silent except for Herr Wagenseil's intake of
breath. No one moved-until the empress laughed. "Indeed, Herr
Wagenseil. Turn the pages for our young impresario."

Wolfie did justice to the court composer's piece, but I noticed
that even though Papa was nodding and smiling, his eyes were angry.
We would pay for making Papa angry.

After Wolfie finished and everyone applauded, he got so excited
he jumped off the pillowed bench and ran toward the empress.

Don't run! Wolfie, don't run! He hadn't taken a bow, had hardly
acknowledged the applause at all.

Before he could reach Her Majesty, he tripped over the edge of
a Persian rug and fell to the marble floor with an oomph. I moved to help him up, but the empress's daughter Marie Antonie-who was
no older than he-was there first, taking his arm, pulling him to his
feet.

Wolfie thanked the little girl, then added, "When I grow up I
will marry you."

At first no one reacted. Then nervous laughter sped about the
room. I wanted to slip away and hide. Why couldn't he behave?

But then, turning away from the archduchess, Wolfie seemed to
remember why he was running in the first place, and ran up to the
empress Maria Theresa herself and climbed into her lap. Then he
put his arms around her neck and kissed her.

I couldn't move. Neither did anyone else. The man and woman
behind me snickered and someone whispered, "The child presumes
too much." Mama took hold of Papa's arm, and I saw his jaw twitch.

But then ... to everyone's surprise, the empress hugged Wolfie
back-and kissed him. The guests clapped, and my little brother was
showered with praise and verbal tokens of affection. I would never
cease to marvel at how Wolfie always ended up the darling.

That took talent.

Mama and Papa sat across from Wolfie and me in the carriage as
we left Vienna's Schonbrunn Palace. With Mama's fancy dress and
the bulk of my parents' cloaks, they didn't have much room, yet the
one time I'd suggested Mama sit with Wolfie and I sit with Papa,
my idea had received a stern dismissal. "You two squirm and fiddle
too much. We would never have any peace."

It wasn't I who squirmed. I sat very still with my hands in my
lap just like Mama. At eleven, my feet didn't touch the floor of the
carriage as yet, and they sometimes skirted numbness from dangling.
To escape their ache I might move, yet every time Papa flashed me
a look, I was still.

Wolfie moved all the time. He constantly climbed onto his
knees to see outside, played with the drapes at the window, or
kicked the underside of the seat with his heels. Over and over Papa
told him to be still.

When Papa sighed deeply and looked directly at us, I knew it
was time for Wolfie to be punished for what he'd said to Herr Wagenseil, as well as for running and sitting on the lap of the empress. I
reached for his hand, ready to comfort him.

"You did well today, children."

It took me a moment to realize Papa wasn't mad. His pleasure
made me bold. "Papa, I wanted to do what Wolfie did," I said. "I
wanted to play with one finger and with the cloth. Why didn't I get
a turn?"

"Complaining does not become you, Nannerl," Mama said.

Papa's eyes held mine. "We . . ." He turned his gaze to Wolfie,
but my brother had his feet on the seat and was playing with his
shoe buckles. Papa waited for him to pay attention. When he didn't,
I pushed Wolfie's feet to the floor and nodded toward Papa. Finally
Wolfie looked at him.

Papa cleared his throat. "We must all work together to earn a
living. That means adapting to each audience. Who does what is
not important. We all must do our part."

"Part, sna-dart, pa-fart." Wolfie giggled.

Mama gave him a stern look to quiet him, then leaned forward
and touched my knee. "You should be grateful for any opportunity
to use your God-given gifts, Nannerl."

I was. If only Papa would let me use them more.

Mama and Papa started talking to each other about our schedule.
Wolfie poked me in the side, then pulled his cheeks down and out.
"Look, I'm Emperor Francis."

With a sideways glance at Papa, I giggled. Emperor Francis did
have big jowls.

Then Wolfie hit his palm with his fist three times. He wanted
to play rock-paper-scissors. I joined in, yet while Mama and Papa
talked, I listened.

Mama touched Papa's arm. "Dear one, I noticed the empress
called you the Kapellmeister of Salzburg. Since you are not the head
conductor, you should have corrected her."

"I could not correct the empress!" Papa glanced in our direction,
then lowered his voice. "Besides, that post is open. As is the post
of Vice Kapellmeister, which I expect to obtain when Lolli gets promoted. It's only logical the archbishop will let me fill Lolli's
place." He sighed and rubbed his hands against his thighs. "On that
subject, I'm glad His Grace gave me a leave of absence to tour with
the children, but I am afraid decisions are being made back home
without me."

"You think the archbishop will make a decision on the positions
before we return?"

Papa patted the pocket of his cape. "I'm urging our friend Hagenauer to pass round these letters I send him. Soon everyone will
know of our success and know we are effective ambassadors for Salzburg. I still prefer Salzburg to all other places, but I must not be held
back. I will not."

Mania took his hand and smiled. "We won't be, dear one."

He shook his head. "Time is against us. The children are growing...." He sighed. "Ever growing."

"It will all work out." She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"For now," Papa said. "For now."

I'd stop growing if I could. For Papa.

I thought staying at an inn was fun. Papa ... did not. One
morning he stood near the window, adjusting the ruffles of his shirt
under his waistcoat. "Have you ever noticed how this lodging is a
thousand feet long and one foot wide?"

I hadn't paid much attention, but now that he'd made such a
comment ... it did seem strangely narrow compared to our Salzburg apartment.

He looked in the small mirror near the door, angling to see his
cravat. Frustrated at not being able to see more than one portion of
his torso at the same time, he sighed. "But at least we are in Vienna.
That is something."

I liked Vienna. It was much larger than Salzburg. The streets
were constantly alive with wagons and horses and people going by.
There was a pub next door and I heard people singing-though not
very well. And the guest in the room beside us liked to argue with
his wife late at night. Mama said not to listen, but how could I not? I tried to figure out what they were arguing about, but it was in
French and was beyond what Mama had taught me.

It was never quiet here. Never.

His morning dressing complete, Papa arched his back and
groaned. "A narrow room, and marginal beds."

I thought the beds were quite comfortable. Mama and I shared
one, and Wolfie shared with Papa. That was part of the fun. We all
shared a bedchamber at home too, though there I shared a bed with
Wolfie. On the road I was glad to be rid of his fidgeting.

Papa pointed a finger at my brother, who was on his stomach
retrieving a red top from under our bed. "You, young man, have
sharp elbows. You throw me out of the bed with all your pushing."

I laughed. Mama touched the tip of my nose. "You are no better, Nannerl." She picked up the brush and patted our bed. I sat and
she began to brush my hair. She shivered. "I do wish I'd brought
along my fur cape. It's cold. Could we have it sent from Salzburg?"

"To send it by mail coach would be too costly. And it might get
spoilt," Papa said. He moved toward us and kissed the top of her
head. "But I shall have a new one made for you. Would you like
that?"

A new fur for Mama when she had one at home? Papa didn't
spend money on such things. Had someone paid us well for one of
our concerts?

Mama raised her face for another kiss. I looked away, but in
truth I liked seeing my parents in love. Back home, I didn't see many
shows of such affection. But back home we weren't together as
much. During the days Papa had his duties in the archbishop's
orchestra playing the violin, and Mama had our household to run.
On the road we were always together. Always.

I glanced at my brother, who lay on his back on the floor, his
feet straight in the air, trying to balance the top on the bottom of
his shoe. Wolfie was a handful. Being older, I tried to help with him
as much as I-

There was a knock on the door of our room. Papa answered. It
was the innkeeper. He nodded a greeting to Mama, then pointed
downstairs excitedly. "You have a visitor, Herr Mozart. He says he's
the privy paymaster?"

"I shall be down directly." When Papa looked back at us, his
eyes gleamed. "Now we'll see how much the emperor and empress
liked your playing." With one last look in the mirror, he left us.

Wolfie turned on his stomach and spun the top on the floor,
where it hit the leg of a chair and rattled to a stop. He let it lie and
hopped to his feet. "Do you think there are presents? I like presents
best."

So did I, but I knew money was better for the family.

Mama finished tying a ribbon in my hair. She stood and held
out her hands to us. "Come. We must pray for God's blessings."

Arid lots ofruoiiey.

Although Mama moved her lips she prayed silently. I could tell
Wolfie wasn't praying because he was staring at the door, waiting for
Papa. I too found it hard to concentrate on my heavenly Father
while waiting for my earthly one to return.