The Heart Asks for Pleasure First

by Antonio Sodre

A piano lay stranded in the sand. The tribal chief forbade his people to touch it. They had already honored their bargain with the white men: unloading the ship, hauling the strange cargo to the governor’s house. The governor’s wife had pleaded for the instrument, but her husband refused the cost. “Let it rot,” he spat. Regardless, the chief would refuse another deal. His people had endured enough. The only ground he and the governor yielded to one another was that the piano was useless. The tribe would send tribal women to serve in the governor’s house high upon the cliff. From there, the whole island was visible. In return, the tribe would be left alone. It was a fragile thread between war and peace.

Yet, every full moon, she came to play. Alerted by scouts, the chief watched her fingers coax melodies from the piano. He was spellbound. Horrified by his own enchantment, he ordered the piano destroyed. Nothing worked, even fire. The piano was finally carried into the chief’s cabin. To break the curse, he commanded his musicians to learn its secrets. They composed songs of beauty, yet none as mesmerizing as the woman’s nocturnal performance. Each full moon, through the window, the chief saw her shadow standing in the forest. One night, he commanded: “Come and play!”. The pale woman entered silently, sat before the piano, letting the melody flow. The chief, trembling, stroked her body as she touched the keys. Her moans mingled with the music. After the final note faded, they lay naked together.

On the horizon, a warship cut through the morning haze, bristling with cannons and crowded with armed white men.

BIO: Antonio Sodré is a student of English Literature and Linguistics at the University of São Paulo, Brazil. He enjoys turning stories into short tales and has been published in several literary magazines, anthologies, and through literary contests, in English, Portuguese, and Spanish.