Gus Keller turned away, and his eye was caught by the sight of a baby grand piano in an adjacent alcove. He stared at it, and his fingers twitched a bit.... did he know how to play the piano?
He drifted over to the gleaming black instrument, sat down, and placed his fingers on the keys. Then he began to pick out notes...slowly, and then with more assurance....he knew it all..the scales, the keys from A to F and back again, he knew how to play.
It was a soft, melancholy little tune that he picked out...and he knew its name was Comptine d'Un Autre Été.
How could he know that, he wondered as he played. He couldn't remember his own name, or where he came from, yet he could remember how to speak, how to play the piano...he could remember history, for god's sake...just not his own history.
He looked up from the piano to see that he'd acquired an audience. He flushed. "Sorry," he said to Pretorius. "I should have asked permission."
"Not at all, mate," Pretorius returned. "It was lovely. Play something else. Something..." he glanced down at Taran Tula. "Something to dance to, maybe?"
Keller forced a grin. "I'm afraid my repertoire is a bit limited," he said. He placed his hands on the keys again and then began to pick out the notes, the music from the dancing scene between George C. Scott and Joanne Woodward in They Might Be Giants. He stifled a sob as he played. He could remember sitting in ...in his living room...while he watched this on a big screen TV...
But he couldn't remember where that living room was...
Taran Tula and Pretorius began to dance, a slow dance, with their bodies pressed close together. Pretorius had one hand on her hip, and she was gazing up into his eyes. The rest of the dinner party had gathered to one side and were watching them dance...
Keller gritted his teeth and played on.
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