Poor Tutor, judging from his recent notes "home" to me here in the Dumpster, is quite hopelessly smitten by Tess, his super-wealthy client, she who owns a controlling interest in all the world's wealth. Tess is not what you would call conventionally beautiful, but she is striking - tall, lithe, with large intelligent eyes, expressive lips, and a mass of unruly brown hair. She is not at all concerned about her appearance, seldom wears makeup, and shows no interest in any suitor, though each day brings massive floral arrangements by helicopter from the world's most eligible men. She stays fit by practicing fencing. Her fencing master, Andre, is French, an Olympic Gold Medalist, yet with Tess evenly matched. She fences as she trades stock, in the moment, in a flow state. Andre will say privately that he would never fence with her without a mesh mask, padding, and a "button" on the tip of her rapier. She forgets herself in the heat of the moment, and her ritual tap might in one thoughtless thrust go deeper than skin. She also hates to lose, to a man, particularly.
Is Tutor so star struck because Tess is so phenomenally rich? Surely, not! Please think better of him than that. His vow of poverty has been kept for centuries, even to an extreme. (As to his vow of chastity, what happens in Wealth Bondage stays in Wealth Bondage, but he has been doing better since Molly the upstairs maid gave him the back of her hand. Apparently, she considered a 1,000 year old suitor, no matter how rakish, a bit antique. Molly is now dating Andre, but that is another story.)
Is it that Tess is such a good mother, as busy as she is? That helps, no doubt. Tutor treasures the bedtime moments, as Audrey falls asleep, hearing one of his cock and bull stories, starring Audrey and her Rescue Dog Rex. Tess pretends not to listen, but Tutor notices how her fingers stop trading stock on the iPad, and how she sometimes murmurs and chuckles, and how Tess's breathing falls into synchrony with her child's breathing. As Audrey nods off, the world is saved for one more day. Rising to leave, often Tutor finds Tess as fast asleep as her kid. To both he offers his benediction. (Once he did kiss the top of Tess's sleeping head, but he confessed it the Bishop, when the Bishop visited the Castle, and has done appropriate penance.)
But truly what has Tutor star struck is Tess's flute. In the evenings, after dinner, as the moon rises, she will go out to the ramparts, alone, and play to thw waves. Her music is all her own, improvised, to the waves, moonlight, and the creatures of air and sea, who seem to answer her, dancing, weaving, swooping, in the airy or liquid element. (Once to her tremolo, a whale rose and the spout kept time to the music.) She is ungodly gifted, and daft. Wealth, the patterns in the market, also answer her call. Hence her astronomical, ever-growing wealth. But when Tutor stands at the casement, in his chapel, beneath the upper rampart, he is brought almost to his knees, as he hears her music, lifting and sad, yet vital and hopeful, too. He has the illusion that her music calms the troubled waters, and gives life to fish and the birds struggling to survive as the world changes so fast.
Is Tutor in love with Tess, her music, or with what streams through both? In any case, if you noticed any jealousy of Master Jack, you now know at least part of the reason. If you wonder if Tutor's experience is strange, or feel it is unique, you may be wrong. Petrarch and Laura, Dante with Beatrice, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, Astrophil and Stella, Yeats and Maude Gonne attest to the same infinite ache, only in this case the art flows from Tess directly, not through the man smitten. Maybe times change, and the holy spirit or the muses, being women, have become feminists themselves, and are working to save the world directly through women, cutting out the middlemen. It may be earth's last chance, Tess and her kid. Tutor is grateful to be cast in a supporting role.
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