The Accordionist

The sun shone bright over Jonathan Müller’s head, as he set put of his house on a Sunday morning with his accordion in hand. 

“How’s it going, mein Junge?”

“Very nice, Frau Hermann.”

Jonathan was as well known in Dresden as Raphael. The only difference being that Raphael was known as an extremely talented painter whereas Jonathan was known as a skinny boy who plays funny melodies. He had a round face with a shaved beard and light brown eyes. Jonathan did not mind his reputation. Being a musician during the World War was a quite brave thing to be, and Jonathan was proud of it.

The Nazi Germans were a rowdy bunch, always yelling hysterically in the bars. Jonathan liked peace and quiet, where he could play his songs for the people to hear. Music was enjoyed by all, that is what Jonathan believed, except for that one time when a soldier had thrown his accordion on the ground and yelled “Du dreckiges schwein!” in fuming hit anger. After that Jonathan had stopped playing at the bars. He used to play his accordion for weddings or funerals, and sometimes on the road for the people passing by. His fingers moved over the keys like flowing water; the melodies played – sweeter than the summer mangoes.

This particular Sunday morning Jonathan had stepped out with an already planned day. He would go to Frauenkirche to pray for the Lord to save Germany. “Ich rette uns”, he uttered every Sunday morning when he went to the church. His brother, Walter Müller did not understand the reasoning behind this.

“If God had to save us, then he wouldn’t have planned the war at all!”, is what he said at the breakfast table as he munched on his stale bread. He used to work at the cigarette factory downtown. Factory workers were hard to convince, or so Jonathan thought.

After praying at the church, he would go to the wedding of Frau Diller and Maximus Schmidt, to congratulate them on a very happy wedded life and also to play a few tunes for the guests. Well, Jonathan would not never admit it but the reason for him to attend the wedding was to play some tunes and get paid a few Deutsch.

Jonathan arrived at the Standesamt just in time. The guests started coming in groups. It was a small wedding with only a few close friends and relatives. Max Schmidt was a soldier and he had ro return to the war after the marriage. Frau Diller, his childhood sweetheart, was very brave at heart. She had said,”If he has to die in war , then he will die being mine”, to her parents who did not want their only daughter being a widow at such a young age. Frau Diller was stubborn, and her love for Max Schmidt was even more stubborn.

Jonathan started playing his accordion as the bride entered. Frau Diller looked ethereal in her white gown, as she walked down the aisle to her Max Schmidt. There were applause and tears at the end of the vowing ceremony. They applauded Max’s luck to find someone like Frau Diller and for Frau Diller’s heart made of love and stone.

Jonathan left as the families started playing Baumstamm Sägen. The grooms father had paid him his fee at the end of the wedding. He had gifted them some fresh flowers from his garden, which his mother had grown through all these years.

Jonathan went home with a bag of beef and potatoes. Walter loved sauerbraten and his mother loved kartoelpuffs. They had a filling meal that night.

The next morning, Jonathan woke up and watered the flowers in the garden. He took his accordion in his hands and set out again. He did not have any particular place to visit that day. It was a Monday morning, the streets were crowded with factory workers and office clerks. Jonathan set down his lucky cloth on the ground. It was a stained white handkerchief which belonged to his father. His father had died a martyr while serving in the first world war. Jonathan didn’t let the handkerchief, the only remnant of his father, gather dust, so he used it as his lucky cloth. A few people dropped some coins and slowly he gathered enough money to buy a kilogram of potatoes.

By evening, Jonathan had enough money to buy some potatoes and fish, so he folded the handkerchief into a pouch and wrapped all the coins within it. He held the pouch in his left hand and his accordion in his right hand, then he bowed to the people passing by. He believed people who listened to music were of higher intelligence, therefore they had to be respected. Walter Müller did not believe this either, he always said “ You believe in too many things Jon, just be careful not to break your hope.” Jonathan shrugged off his warning by calling him a schwein and pitying him for lacking higher intelligence.

That night, Pete Aufbau visited Jonathan at his house.

“I need you to perform at my bar tomorrow night”, he pleaded. Jonathan hated going to bars after that incident. If he ever wanted to taste alcohol he would tell his brother to snuggle a bottle or two to home. He tried to convince Herr Aufbau but he did not listen to a word Jonathan said. Finally, Jonathan complied to his request as he paid him half in advance.

He couldn’t get much sleep that night.

The next morning, he told his mother and his brother about Herr Aufbau’s offer. His mother did not want him to go to another bar ever again but, his brother said that it would be better for him to face his fears once and for all.

Jonathan decided to act upon his brother’s advice. He would face his fears and not care for the consequences. If it hurts him in any way or form, he will accept it.

He drank some tea and ate a few biscuits. The he took his accordion and headed to the bar. 

Inside it was extremely dark with only a few dim lights shining. Jonathan took a seat on the chair which was placed on the stage. The spotlight focused on him, illuminating his every feature. He started playing the melodies he had learned by heart. His fingers moving ceaselessly over the keys. He felt at peace sitting on the stage.

Jonathan felt like he could see the Gods in heaven dancing to his music, when he heard a loud slap and suddenly he was on the floor, clutching his face. A Nazi German with a face full of unclean, unshaven hair with dirty black eyes stood above him. He kept on punching Jonathan as his friends and the bar staff tried to hold him back. Jonathan was completely still as he received punch after punch. He laughed inside as he remembered his brother’s advice. He was literally facing his fears. At the moment he repented ever going to Frauenkirche to prat for Germany. He wished the entire country to burn down in flames. At last when the man had fulfilled his urge of using Jonathan as a punching bag, he got up and left. Jonathan lay in a pool of his own blood and with a million bruises all over his body. The staff at the bar helped him clean up and patched up his cuts. Herr Aufbau apologized a gazillion times for the inconvenience he had caused to Jonathan.

Jonathan took his pay and left the bar without a word. He went home and kept the money on the dining table. He went to his room ignoring his brother’s and mother’s unanswered concerned gazes. He still had his accordion in his hand. It was broken and almost irreparable. Jonathan laid on his bed and cried the entire night.

Two weeks went by, but Jonathan never once stepped out of his house. He had confined himself in the dreary arms of misery. He came out of his room only to use the toilet and during meals. His brother tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t answer any of his questions. His mother just wept. Gradually, they stopped asking him any questions and ate their meals in complete silence, just like Jonathan had wanted.

Almost a month passed by when the news of the factory fire spread around Dresden. Jonathan did not weep a single tear as he saw his brother’s burnt body being lowered into the grave. His mother shattered into a million scattered pieces right in front of him. He told her, “You needed to face your fears, Ma”, and went back to lock himself in his room.

It was the month of January, the first time they heard the sirens. Everyone ran to the bomb shelter under Herr Meyers house. Jonathan was woken up at midnight by the loud banging on his door. His mother had almost knocked herself unconscious trying to wake his only son to save his life. They ran to the bomb shelter together.

Jonathan had carried his accordion with him. He had spent two months fixing it, locked in his room. The accordion defined him, it was who he was, the accordionist.

Jonathan had never seen so many people in a single room. They all looked extremely scared, and vulnerable. The kids held on tightly to their parents. He saw familiar faces, the faces which looked so regal before, now cowering in fear for their lives. The room contained various assortment of clothes. Most people were in their night garments , few were still in their suits from work. Jonathan had stopped himself from feeling anything for the fast few months, but the accumulated fear and anxiety of all the people, made him afraid for his life.

All the people in the shelter were huddled together, like a cattle of cows in front of their predator. All of them hoping to make it through that night. The sirens had stopped a while ago, now it was just silence and stuttered breath, accompanied with a few cries and heaves.

In the middle of all of this unspoken terror, suddenly the shrill sound of a C minor key was heard. Some people let out gasps and some clutched at their hearts. Jonathan looked wide eyed at the small outstretched hand that belonged to a baby girl. She was in her mother’s arms when her curiosity took over her shyness and she pressed the black coloured key. The mother apologized to everyone and Jonathan for scaring them. Frau Hermann was the only woman who refused her apology. 

“Mein Junge, you should play a tune to calm our nerves.”

Jonathan was surprised and offended at Frau Hermann’s request. He had promised himself to not play the accordion in front of an audience ever again, and she had asked him to do just that, in front of at least seven hundred people. Jonathan politely declined her offer when few of the kids started crying. Parents and elders circled them and tried to coax them. They told the kids that it was all written in God’s book of plans.

Frau Hermann took the advantage of Jonathan being distracted and pressed one of the keys on the accordion. The shrill sound in all of the silence attracted the kids’ attentions and they topped crying. They looked at Jonathan expectantly.

“Go on.” Frau Hermann urged.

Jonathan timidly ran his fingers over the keys; before he knew it he was playing beautiful symphonies on his one and only accordion. The tension in the shelter tangibly reduced and the weeping people looked up from behind their hands. Jonathan saw their faces light up one by one. He heard the sirens again, they were clear to go back to their homes. As he walked home, the lit up faces of all his neighbours played in a loop in Jonathan’s mind.

He slept peacefully after a long time.

The sirens became more common in the next few weeks. Everyone would run to the bomb shelter dressed in their night suits , holding their dear ones and praying to the Lord. Every time Jonathan would play different melodies on his accordion, to ease the tension of the people.

Jonathan was extremely happy and extremely scared. He was afraid that he would lose all of this but he was content to have fulfilled his mission on Earth. He wanted the people to forget their worries, sadness and fears, and enjoy music like he did. He wanted them to see the music that he saw, feel the things that he felt and to be happy. 

Jonathan felt accomplished. 

The sirens went on and Jonathan’s music went on with it. His fingers moved over the keys and brought ease to the people who had already given up on life; and so on the 3rd of February, 1945, when the world that he knew went up in flames as his mother held onto him Jonathan realised that he had made his mark o this planet and that even if war divides all, music will forever be bringing them back together.