DESTROY THE ICE

by Ricardo Castro Arceiz (Spain)

Making a local connection Lithuania

I see smiles. I see him smiling. I don't finish playing a song that I already clumsily link with a new one. Some lengthen the edges of their sleeves by clenching their fists while others bring their hands to their mouths to warm them with their breath as incidentally hide when they don't know the lyrics. I try to remember the classics everyone knows enough to at least hum them. It feels weird to be surrounded by people I see smiling for the first time after three weeks sharing classes. As a natural reaction, some start to percussion on the piano following the rhythm. The teacher must be about to arrive, but I keep playing the piano while I give a quick review for each of them. When I get to him I stop the movement to stay with his gaze during a bars or two. I keep looking until reaching the window to see large blocks of ice that float down the river Neris. Then is when I think: Luck of our hands That give us heat, Sparks when colliding, Flashes of light through the dark. The weeks go by inside this old prison now converted into an academy. Is in this singing classroom where I'm find myself every Thursday surrounded by melancholic chants, able to perceive what's beyond of their shy Lithuanian voices. I always sit near the window and he always sits next to me. He told me he needs some help so moves closer to me checking the pitch of my voice. He makes a face to me, I understand the question. I answer bringing my ear to his mouth. I look at the teacher and look him back again at sideways. I say yes with my head, still singing. He looks at me like “If you say so”. For some reason, he trusts me the same I’m trusting more every day that the big ugly cloud that is covering Vilnius is never pretending to leave. The morning the sun appears I ask him if he has heard about the party I was throwing at my place. He answers with a brief “uh-huh”. - You can bring your girlfriend or whoever you want - I continue as an attempt to cheer him up. No sound, no smile. He just keeps his eyes neutral as if he wanted to say: I heard you, anything else? You are like this place, I think to myself. Only when the music plays it seems light is passing through these cold walls. He shows up at the party alone with a smile that grow bigger with every drink he takes. I’m more worry about the movement of my hips. My spanish blood is finally heating and I have no choice but to show it off accumulating a significant number of looks full of desire. The first moment we exchange all night is when we cross each other in hall: - Man, you got the moves - He says - You have everyone watching you, I can see it. - He continue raising eyebrows this time. - This is me, man - I say as we laugh.   And then we keep laughing for a minute about things we aren't even saying. When I notice his desire to converse I raise my glass, smile him and run to the improvised dance floor again. Tonight I’m feeling like I am God making fire for the first time in this land of ice and I’m not going to let anyone put it out. Spring comes and the circumstances reverse, the days lengthen and the sun cast long shadows. Everything seems to dilates as when I drop my foot on the piano's sustain pedal. Just like the ice blocks were turning into water, he just simply is becoming another one of my cold but nice classmates. It’s one of those long afternoons, we are all chilling in the park when I announce the date of my departure. Everyone looks at me as I return the looks one by one. When I reach him, it feels as if the sustain pedal is suddenly released and our faces get as close as when we were trying to hear our voices. I have never liked summer again.