Hale was surprised by a visitor at his home. Mother! he said sharply dressed in his unifrom. Hello Will, said his mother, who was bespectacled now. She adjusted her glasses trying to have a good peek into the house. Come in Ma, said Will. She sighed and entered the house. She had a small baggage with her, which she gently rested it against the side of the sofa. Can I have a glass of water, she asked as she took another long look at the house. "I'am not married," said Will as he handed the glass to her mother. I can see that, she said in a snarky way seeing the shabby state the house was in. You are still afraid that your child will be born with superpowers, she said again a little too sarcastically for Will to digest. But what good son had ever got angry with his mother. Yes, mother. I'am afraid that my child would turn into a beast like me. She could not help but laugh. She opened her purse and took out a letter that she had received from Will a lifetime ago. She read it aloud and reminded Will that he had not changed one bit. She made sure to show that her hands were shaking. "I'am getting old," she said to him as she kept the letter back in her purse. And you have not aged much, she said. For how much longer could I carry you in my heart, she said. Will fell silent. His mother was the strongest person he ever knew and such words caused him a lot of distress. Do not speak such worlds again, mother, he spoke in Shakespearean dialect. Won't you find someone who loves you, she asked him. Will sat on the old dusted piano he sheltered and gave life to a man who had long since gone. He birthed him majestically in a new fashion every once and then. Bach, his mother said in a teneous fashion as Will rolled back the years. She was reminded of her husband who would so well play the many great tunes of geniuses whose wind had stopped its sails centuries ago. And every note Will played, a ship took sail leaving its harbour, faring far into the majestic seas. She giggled as she did when her husband played, as she would often imagine herself sitting atop a nice white boat and dancing to the winds that echoed the tunes of these long haired men. Her mood was beginning to shift instantly and she started to clap.
Will had always got enthusiastic as she clapped and put on an even bigger show. He played and played till Bach himself had said enough! Her mother got up, "Mozarts always been more forgiving," she said. He never pointed out your mistakes. But mother! Will had said. Only because his notes always had mistakes in them. Ha! his mother waved her handkerchief and went around the kitchen to make her son a sandwich.