Charlie's Piano Teacher

I was with another student
When I got the call
About Charlie

About what he had written

About us and our...

He had been my student
Since he was a little boy

A little boy

And I noticed
When he turned fourteen or so
That he had developed something of a crush

Or perhaps he'd always had one
It's hard to say

Little boys develop crushes
On their teachers
It's not unusual

But I assumed that he'd grown out of it
By the time he was...

He wrote, in some sort of story for class or something
That we were having a relationship
An inappropriate...

I suppose he wrote it because he was upset
That I wasn't showing any sort of affection for him in that way
Or perhaps he just wanted to write it out
To make it more real for him

Or--

Oh God, who knows?

Who knows why boys that age
Do what they do?

It wouldn't have mattered to me
Except that he handed it in to a teacher
And then...

Well, I was mortified

I was absolutely mortified

My husband had to come home from work
And--

I had to go stay in a hotel
Because by that evening
Charlie's mother had called
With...

Saying terrible things

Not even questioning her son
Not even questioning whether or not
He might be lying about the whole thing

I mean, he wrote it in a story
I mean, my God

It was...

I had known him since he was a child
I would never--with any of my students

It would never even cross my--

I'm sorry

It's still very emotional
To talk about

Even though
I've been dead for quite some time

After what happened with Charlie
I begged my husband
I begged him to move us
Somewhere else
Because I couldn't...

There was an investigation
And it was determined
That there wasn't any sign of wrongdoing
But of course
Nobody believed that

Luckily, it never reached the paper
But it was still a small town
People still talk
And when I would go to the grocery store
If someone was looking at me
I could never figure out why
And it drove me...

I spent time in a hospital
A, uh, not a normal hospital
But a...

And after I got out
My husband agreed
That we should move

So we did

But I couldn't play the piano ever again after that
Let alone teach lessons
It was too...

I once played for the President
When I was a little girl

It was at a ceremony
In Washington
My school choir was chosen
To go and sing for the President
And there was time in the program
So they let me play two songs on my piano

I had the picture of that
Next to my bed
The day I died

Such a proud moment
Ruined

Ruined forever

My husband and I eventually divorced

He had wanted children
And I...

Knowing what children could do

We had trouble conceiving
But we were going to think about adoption and then--

I just couldn't

I couldn't knowing the awful things a child could do
And that there aren't repercussions for it

That you have to forgive them instantly
Because they're children
Because they allegedly don't know any better

I couldn't accept those things
So...he left me

Years later, I saw him

Charlie

In New York
Riding the subway

He was wearing a tuxedo and I...

I was there to visit my sister

I walked up to him
Walked right up to him
And said--

'Hello Charlie, do you remember me?'

I was so mad
So angry
Even after all those years

Angry that he looked healthy and happy
In his tuxedo
As if his lie hadn't touched him at all

But I suppose lies don't touch the liars, do they?

What I didn't expect was that look on his face
That look as if...

As if he were the one who should be mad
As I was...

He asked how I could talk to him
How I could even speak to him
After what I'd done

He called me a monster
Said I'd...that I'd done things
That I'd hurt an innocent boy

How could I do those things, he asked

How?

That was when I realized that he believed it
He really believed what he had written
All those years ago

And now I wonder

Did he believe it then
Or only after living with it for years?

Does the frog in the boiling water
Not notice the temperature change
Because he's swimming in it?

Is that what happens?

Charlie got off the train
And I never saw him again

But I'm sure you've heard about what he said I did

And now that I'm dead

What's the truth?

Or is there any truth at all?

We live
We get old
And we did

And we trust that people will accurately portray us
And tell our stories
But that doesn't happen, does it?

Instead we have to hope
That the people who outlast us
Feel the urge
To speak the truth
About who we were

Charlie outlasted me
So I'm a pedophile

I'm a child molester

I'm a piano teacher

And if it weren't for the fact
That I can come here today
And tell you he's a liar
Then you would believe him

Right away, wouldn't you?

You'd believe him

Maybe some of you still believe him

Well, that's all right

The truth isn't something I can be concerned with
Anymore