running out of warm water probably wasn’t an issue.
When she was done, she wrapped a soft towel around herself, brushed her teeth, applied moisturizer and combed her hair. Just as in hotel rooms the bathroom had a hairdryer that came in handy. Her blond hair was quickly styled, as it was cut short in a pixie crop style which Jenna found was the perfect compromise between practical and feminine. She tugged her long bangs behind her ears and applied a bit of mascara, rouge, and lip gloss before she decided she was ready to go back to her team.
When she opened the door she was expecting to find a guard outside, but to her surprise the hallway was empty.
“Hello?” she called and started walking to her right, hoping to find someone around the corner. I came from the right, didn’t I? Or was it left?
After almost ten minutes walking around the long corridors passing many closed doors and then getting to larger, more open spaces with furniture and impressive chandeliers, Jenna concluded that she was undeniably lost. When she turned a corner and heard soft music playing ahead she sped up. Music means people, and people means someone to give me directions. What she found astonished her. A lean man sat hunched over a grand piano in a beautiful salon full of extravagant lounge furniture and mahogany bookshelves. In one corner there was a round table with a game of chess laid out, and large leather seats to sit in. The other corner offered a large table with green felt and what looked to be an almost-finished and at least two-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle.
Jenna’s eyes returned to the man, who was deeply entranced in his music. He made it look effortless with the way his fingers ran over the keys, and she was so stunned by the beauty of the melody that she couldn’t pull away from the loveliness of it.
Jenna closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe, ashamed of intruding on a stranger, but grateful for this magical moment that lifted her spirit.
When the music stopped she opened her eyes again and saw the man look up to see her. While he had been playing he had looked focused and earnest, but now his face broke into a huge smile and he got up so suddenly that he almost knocked over the stool he had been sitting on.
He was talking fast, gesturing with his arms, and moving quickly toward her, almost like he had recognized a good old friend.
She couldn’t understand what he was saying, but she understood one thing clearly. This man wasn’t normal.
His jerky movements and childish delight was that of someone retarded or autistic. With the way he mastered the piano he clearly wasn’t retarded, so Jenna concluded that the man hurrying toward her was autistic – something she had experience with.
Growing up her neighbor, Spencer, had been autistic. They were friends from early childhood, and she was about five years old before she really understood that Spencer wasn’t like others. He was the kindest person she knew, but he got overwhelmed easily and needed special care. Other kids would tease him, and it always made Jenna furious. She protected Spencer, and he loved her for it and showered her with affection. She in return called Spencer her hugging machine and took time to hang out and do things he enjoyed.
This man in front of her had to be in his mid-thirties, just like Spencer now, and although his hair was much darker and his skin more olive-toned, he still reminded her so much of her childhood friend that she gave him a big smile and returned his warm hug.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.” She smiled and allowed him to caress her hair. He was sweet and his eyes spoke of honesty and innocence.
Again he babbled in his language and pointed to his piano.
“If you are asking me if I liked your music, the answer is yes. Very much.”
He started nudging her towards the piano, but she had her own agenda and didn’t have time to waste.
“Maybe some other time. Right now, I
When she was done, she wrapped a soft towel around herself, brushed her teeth, applied moisturizer and combed her hair. Just as in hotel rooms the bathroom had a hairdryer that came in handy. Her blond hair was quickly styled, as it was cut short in a pixie crop style which Jenna found was the perfect compromise between practical and feminine. She tugged her long bangs behind her ears and applied a bit of mascara, rouge, and lip gloss before she decided she was ready to go back to her team.
When she opened the door she was expecting to find a guard outside, but to her surprise the hallway was empty.
“Hello?” she called and started walking to her right, hoping to find someone around the corner. I came from the right, didn’t I? Or was it left?
After almost ten minutes walking around the long corridors passing many closed doors and then getting to larger, more open spaces with furniture and impressive chandeliers, Jenna concluded that she was undeniably lost. When she turned a corner and heard soft music playing ahead she sped up. Music means people, and people means someone to give me directions. What she found astonished her. A lean man sat hunched over a grand piano in a beautiful salon full of extravagant lounge furniture and mahogany bookshelves. In one corner there was a round table with a game of chess laid out, and large leather seats to sit in. The other corner offered a large table with green felt and what looked to be an almost-finished and at least two-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle.
Jenna’s eyes returned to the man, who was deeply entranced in his music. He made it look effortless with the way his fingers ran over the keys, and she was so stunned by the beauty of the melody that she couldn’t pull away from the loveliness of it.
Jenna closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe, ashamed of intruding on a stranger, but grateful for this magical moment that lifted her spirit.
When the music stopped she opened her eyes again and saw the man look up to see her. While he had been playing he had looked focused and earnest, but now his face broke into a huge smile and he got up so suddenly that he almost knocked over the stool he had been sitting on.
He was talking fast, gesturing with his arms, and moving quickly toward her, almost like he had recognized a good old friend.
She couldn’t understand what he was saying, but she understood one thing clearly. This man wasn’t normal.
His jerky movements and childish delight was that of someone retarded or autistic. With the way he mastered the piano he clearly wasn’t retarded, so Jenna concluded that the man hurrying toward her was autistic – something she had experience with.
Growing up her neighbor, Spencer, had been autistic. They were friends from early childhood, and she was about five years old before she really understood that Spencer wasn’t like others. He was the kindest person she knew, but he got overwhelmed easily and needed special care. Other kids would tease him, and it always made Jenna furious. She protected Spencer, and he loved her for it and showered her with affection. She in return called Spencer her hugging machine and took time to hang out and do things he enjoyed.
This man in front of her had to be in his mid-thirties, just like Spencer now, and although his hair was much darker and his skin more olive-toned, he still reminded her so much of her childhood friend that she gave him a big smile and returned his warm hug.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.” She smiled and allowed him to caress her hair. He was sweet and his eyes spoke of honesty and innocence.
Again he babbled in his language and pointed to his piano.
“If you are asking me if I liked your music, the answer is yes. Very much.”
He started nudging her towards the piano, but she had her own agenda and didn’t have time to waste.
“Maybe some other time. Right now, I
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