Read Online Mozart's Sister by Nancy Moser - Free Book Online Page A

I bent down to pet him. I wanted a
dog someday, someone to love me no matter what. The dog's owner
came near, a woman wearing an apron and cloth headdress. She
smiled at me and spoke, but I could not understand her words. "Ich
bin osterreichisch," I said. I am Austrian.
    Her face went blank a moment; then she nodded, smiled, said a
long sentence I imagined to be something like "Have a lovely day,"
picked up the dog, and left me. I walked away with a spring to my
step, which was odd because I hadn't successfully conversed with
her. All we understood of each other was that we were not the same.
And yet ... we had shared a moment. We'd connected: two females
with a cute pup between us.

    I wished the woman could come to our concert at the Palace
Musee when Prince Charles summoned us. I would have liked to
share my music with her as she had shared her dog with me. For
music was the true ambassador between people. It needed no common language. I was so blessed to be a part of music.
    Sometimes people asked if I was nervous performing before
kings and queens. I didn't have time to be nervous. There were too
many things to do, too many things to think about. I was more
nervous for Papa to hear and approve than to worry about the opinion of any emperor or king. Papa was the one who held my future
in his hands. Of course, if the royalty did not approve, they would
not pay well ... but that brought me back to pleasing Papa.
    Sometimes I wondered why I cared so much. He was just a
man. He would never do harm to me if he did disapprove. Yet it was
his harsh or disappointed words I feared. Words. Just words. Absurd.
    Vest la vie.
    It was a new French phrase I'd learned. I also knew how to say
hello, good-bye, thank you, please, and where is the water closet?
Nannerl Mozart: girl of the world.
    I successfully completed the task at the apothecary (the apothecary spoke German), and I meandered back to the inn, feeling rejuvenated. Wolfie met me at the door carrying his ball-catcher toy.
"Look, Nannerl, I can do it fifteen times without missing." He proceeded to swing the ball on its string, catching it on the wooden
spindle. It was his new favorite toy, and his wild gyrations as he
attempted to catch the ball often made me want to rip it from his
hands.
    But not today. For I'd been out in the world today. I'd been free.
    "Very good, Wolfie. I'm proud of you."
    He stopped playing and looked at me, obviously suspicious.
    I took off my hat and cloak and hung them on the back of the
door. Mama was in bed trying to get over her headache. I handed
Papa the apothecary's powder.
    "Your errand was uneventful?" he asked.
    "Completely," I said. It was a lie. I made plans to repeat the
experience when we reached Paris in mid-November.
    Walking alone in Paris. Could there be anything more exciting?

    I imagined there was. But for now ... I was only a girl.
    But almost a woman. Soon to be a woman.

    Paris!
    A city without a wall surrounding it. A city without fortified
gates. Beautiful vistas of parks, and chateaux dotting the greens. The
capital of all France. Papa said, "The city will be ours, children.
Ours!"
    He made me believe it. It was the stuff of fairy tales and dreams.
    We had a very special place to stay in Paris due to friends of
friends. My family knew Sallerl Joly, who was a servant in the
household of Count Arco, whose son-in-law, Count van Eyck, was
allowing us to stay at his townhouse at the Bavarian embassy. His
wife, Countess Maria Anna Felicitas, had been a friend of our family
for years and made us very welcome and even equipped our room
with a harpsichord-a much superior instrument to our portable
keyboard. It was such a luxury. Papa implied there was no cost
involved, though I wasn't brave enough to ask him outright if our
lodging was completely free. He was in a very good mood.... He
was also especially pleased with the Paris Petite Poste, a citywide
letter service that had deliveries four