27 Kreutzer Sonata (2/2)

As I hear the announcer introduce the performers, I look on stage. Yes, it is indeed him. It is the same David Diwa of my life. Oddly enough, he does not look like the David Diwa I saw at the church. He looks the same as the day we trespassed Ferrydell University and the time I saw him at the hospital.

”You ask of who he is,” I say to Attorney Guevarra. ”That's David Diwa, the man I told you that knows Ysabel.”

I look at him from above this box suite. He takes a bow with his accompanist. He helps the accompanist sit on bench. After a brief tuning session, he takes to his bow.

”Rose, did you hear what I said? I said, 'what are you' not 'who are you'. There is a clear difference. I know him. David Diwa. You told me. But I do not know what game he plays. How could he say nothing yet know everything? He even knows Ysabel.”

At the stage, I see him gently playing his violin. He plays notes of slow and beauty. I do not know the piece, but it is really peaceful. It's like entering heaven and seeing the light. And then, the accompanist plays the same notes. After that, together, they join. Then it turns kinda cute, actually.

And then…

Oh, my god. I was wrong. It was not a peaceful piece. It is a piece filled with anger and agony. I look at him from above, and there he is. He plays as if the world has already failed him. The accompanist hardly keeps up with the pace he is keeping.

”The Kreutzer Sonata,” Attorney Guevarra says as he interrupts my thought. ”The very piece that represents David Diwa. Tell me, do you know just before this show that David Diwa is actually a violinist?”

”No – ”

”Exactly. I did not know either until my sister told me.”

And then, I look at the stage again. That striking black hair when I first saw her.

”She looks exactly – ”

”Yes, that's my sister,” he says through gritted teeth. ”You claim him to be nothing, but look at him as he looks at her with his piercing eyes. It is as if he would take her soul. You say he is a noble man who teaches for good, but you are wrong. What was that rumor I heard? There was a woman. I don't know how old, but four months into the pregnancy, the child was miscarried. I do not know if it is merely a cover-up for 'aborted' or something. Next, another child was conceived from another woman. It was prematurely born, but it died early. He did not acknowledge the child as his.”

That rumor. It rings a lot like… that Coffee Shop day. It was a day when a woman haunted him of his past. I cannot remember the woman anymore, but it rings a lot like.

”It's not – ”

”True?” he interrupts. ”Do you believe everything he says? Rose, he has fooled you. He is not innocent. Do you actually believe he is not involved with Ysabel? You are a fool, Rose.'

His words just go over my head. I look again at Professor Diwa's playing, and there he is. He strikes the violin with passion and rage. I do not know if it's all part of his act as a soloist, but something about him strikes me.”

”Who were the women?” I ask him.

”I do not know,” he says grimly. ”But something tells me you do not believe me. You look endlessly for all the evidence against Ysabel, but really, he's just there standing. All the evidence you need is in a man playing a fiddle. You need to get him to your side, or at least, get him to speak. Once he speaks, everything is smooth sailing. Don't deny it, Rose, or are you afraid?”

”Of what?”

”Afraid that you can't deal with him because you love him. You can't make him choose your side because he is your weakness. You don't even want to believe the 'rumors' I have. David Diwa is not your priestly professor, Rose. He lies, just like all the elite families. It's just that he keeps silent because he doesn't want to be seen as a threat.”

I cannot speak. The piece turns slower and slower now until it is all quiet. Just when I thought the piece is about to end, he strikes his bow and unleashes all the fire within him. He finishes the movement with the chords that he could play. I look around. I thought the piece has ended. However, after a few seconds, he plays another one – a more serene one. Oh, right. This is a sonata. It has three movements.

”You are distracting yourself from the real issue, Rose,” Attorney Guevarra says as he sips from his champagne. ”The reason you are still moving is because of Ysabel Javier and her attempts to take the Concepcion fortune. But what made you begin this journey? I know not. You say it's for journalism, but I believe it's more than that. You are just caught in the middle of it all. But, let me tell you this. Rethink your plans. You may seek justice for the family I work with but ask yourself. You can easily get out of this. This is not your job. This is my job. It's good that you are helping me, but if you really want to help, get the man that would help you the most.”

He rises from his seat and takes his briefcase. He's right. I can get out of this. I can just let this go, but really, I can't. I'm too deep into this. And this all began when I was just looking for some sort of man that would be tenth on his first or whatever. A pity indeed. ”A word of advice, though,” he says as he taps me on the shoulder. ”Anyone can be bought. Just like she did with him. I have to go. I have another hearing tomorrow.”

And I thought he would stay with me. All I could do is just listen to this music – music that some sort of fornicator plays. The waiter pours another glass of champagne for me. I drink it whole as if I would like to get drunk on the sight I'm seeing. I don't even know the person I should believe. Is it that man who claims to act on my best interest? Is it that man who swears secrecy for my sake? Or, should I trust no one?

As the waiter is about to pour me another glass, I stop him short. ”No, that would be quite enough. You can rest now. Your services had sufficed.”

He just bows as he exits the box suite. I can't even focus on the music anymore. It just turns into a blur to me. The remaining time of performance was just a blur for me. As the performance comes to an end, I can just hear all the audience around me clapping. I did not even realize that it was over until the same waiter tapped me on the shoulder.

”Miss, the performers will see you now,” the waiter says to me.

”Huh, I did not request to see them,” I reply.

”It's part of your privilege as a guest in this suite, miss. Also, the accompanist genuinely wants to talk to you.”

Quite odd. Why would Attorney Guevarra's sister like to talk to me? I just shrug it off and followed the waiter. It turns out that there is a staff-only passageway that leads to the backstage. It was a dark stairwell that leads directly to the spot where the performers ready themselves. In this backstage, I can see employees carefully putting the piano in the basement. As we wind through the backstage, we arrive before two doors – dressing room (one for the males and one for the females). All the waiter need do is knock on the door. Suddenly, there she is – Attorney Guevarra's sister.

I see her open the door with a wide smile on her face, but as she sees me, it all fades away.

”You must have mistaken,” she says to the waiter. ”I asked to see the guest at box 5.”

”Well, she is the guest at box 5,” the waiter says in reply.

”You are wrong,” she says again. ”This is not my brother.”

As the waiter is about to explain himself, I cut him short. ”Miss Guevarra, your brother was with me earlier,” I answer calmly. ”He left early into the show, saying he has a hearing tomorrow. I think he wants to be prepared.”

From her face, she just shakes her head – shaking in disappointment. ”I should have known that he does not want to see the show after the fight we had,” she says to herself. ”Who are you though? Are you his girlfriend?”

”No. I'm just his client. He wanted a talk about the case. We – ”

”I don't believe you one bit,” she interrupts. She nods to the waiter to give us some space. ”In any case, if my brother wasn't full of pride, we could live our lives in peace without this… mess of the law. That would be all, miss.”

That was odd. I barely know her, and yet, she scowls at me as if I had wronged her. All of a sudden, as I was about to leave, I hear another door unlock. The door opens with a man exiting through the door. He walks with a palm over his forehead. He walks as if the world tired him already – Professor Diwa. In his shaky walking, he bumps into me.

”Sorry, miss,” he says as he opens his eyes. As he realizes that it's me, I just give him a shrug.

”What are you doing here?” he says, much to his shock.