“Ah, I am sure it does…” He nodded back at Katrina. “But if he is really your student, we can give him a very good price on a proper instrument. His parents can pay in installments if they cannot afford the full price up front.”

“Her parents aren’t helping her, so sorry to say,” Shizuka said.

“Then, what do you expect me—”

“But I am. And I expect you to examine my student’s instrument and provide me an estimate.”

Helvar looked at his technician, who looked at the floor. Then he turned to Shizuka.

“I am sorry, Ms. Satomi, but I don’t work on this Oriental junk.”

Shizuka peered at him over her sunglasses.

“Oriental junk?”

“Shizuka, please.”

“Goodbye, Helvar. The world is changing, you know. A pity you aren’t ready to live in it.”

She took the violin and walked out of the store.

“Come, Katrina, let’s have brunch.”

Most likely by coincidence, it was a half hour later when Helvar Grunfeld’s heart decided to stop.

“Wait for it.”

Shizuka held her hands to her ears. Katrina looked at her, puzzled, before she heard the noise of an oncoming siren.

“As you were saying?” Shizuka asked, once the ambulance had passed.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you,” she repeated.

“Sorry? Why? That was a violin shop. This is a violin.”

“Miss Satomi, I don’t want to doubt you, but did you see that place?”

Shizuka nibbled on her quaint and picturesque crêpe. Apparently, this café was new, for the rustic courtyard furniture and French language signs still had price tags from Home Depot and Cost Plus World Market.

“Grunfeld’s? That’s actually Helvar, Jr. At least that was. His father started the shop. He had never gone bald.”

Miss Satomi could not have said that, could she?

“Wasn’t his head shiny?” Miss Satomi continued.

Katrina knew she shouldn’t, but she giggled, then started laughing, first from the chest, then from the dark of her belly. It was so mean … He couldn’t help losing his hair, but she didn’t want to apologize.

How long had it been since she had felt able to laugh?

“Like a brand-new cake of rosin. You know, the kind the hair has never touched,” she said.

“Good one! Good one!”

And now Miss Satomi was laughing, too.

“But, Miss Satomi, my violin is not the sort that they normally repair,” Katrina finally was able to say.

Shizuka rolled her eyes.

But Katrina was right. In part, this was Shizuka’s fault. She had brought what she thought was a normal violin to a normal violin shop.

But this violin was not normal, was it?

“Finish your crêpe, and let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” asked Katrina.

“Somewhere not normal,” Shizuka replied.

10

Matía & Sons

Fine Woodworking and Violins